Tumgik
#I’m sorry y’all have to deal with such filth
Text
Hey guys, I know she’s really beautiful, but don’t forget SHE IS A REAL BEAUTIFUL HUMAN behind her tumblr account, so treat her like one. R-E-S-P-E-C-T her as a person because she is one. Don’t be creepy and nasty and weird. Let her enjoy her tumblr experience in peace. Thank you for coming to my TED talk.
230 notes · View notes
Text
Bad First Impression
dealer! reader x first time stoner! Choso SMUT, 18+ MDNI
Choso makes a really bad first impression on you after catching you selling to his younger brother. When he finally apologizes, he reveals he has never gotten high. You two change that. and then....ya know....
Tumblr media
8.9k words of pure filth. I wrote this because I was horny and high and reminiscing about my dealing days. support your local drug dealer. Enjoy. ao3
content warnings- SEX, drug use, subby choso, kind of in charge reader, choso has a tongue piercing because i made it up, riding, eating pussy, a lot of talk about spit, like a lot, also a lot of talking about smell, again its nasty (im kind of on my high horse about weed, sorry, )
You met Choso a few weeks back. The air was hot and thick inside of the long ranch house. Bodies packed together, music blaring, lights of all colors and strobe speeds dancing through the space. You had been invited by the party's hosts to help “supply” the partiers with anything and everything that could keep them going all night. You didn’t deal in anything that hard, mostly weed, mushrooms, you could get acid easily if it were requested of you, occasionally you helped distribute the stray gram or two of coke for nights like this. But you tried to cap your work in hard drugs there. That night you were only holding ten or so pre rolls, and a quarter of unground flower, ready to help any first timers learn the process of smoking all the way from the beginning. You had already sold the single gram of coke you had been asked to bring with you, mostly to the wilder of the pair, who was currently grinding so hard with his boyfriend, the other host, that you were beginning to worry they’d lose their clothes soon. A few other lines had gone out earlier in the night, their users sweating away on the dance floor in front of you. You didn’t partake yourself, but you enjoyed seeing the results of your labor in their smiling, energized faces.
You kept to the side for now, sipping a warm light beer out of a flimsy solo cup. A hand tapped your shoulder and you turned to face a fresh faced girl with a cute auburn bob.
“Hey you’re the …..dealer….?” She kept her voice low when she uttered the street name of your profession
You matched her hushed whisper, “yeah. But you don’t have to whisper. Everyone here is already pretty fucked up. Anyone undercover would certainly have incriminated themselves.”
You were intending to make her laugh and put her at ease but she looked a bit panicked, smiling wryly with big wild eyes.
“I’m joking, babe.” You smiled at her, “what do you need?”
She giggled a bit, exhaling her anxiety, “I was hoping you had some more pre rolls for my friends and I?”
She gestured behind her to a pink haired guy and a taller black haired guy standing off to the side. The two of them were watching her nervously, but trying to remain cool, turning away quickly when you looked, one of them even whistling to convey his faux nonchalance. These kids are freshmen for sure.
“Sure.”, you nodded at her friends and at her before opening your bag and pulling the jar of pre rolls you kept sealed, for maximum freshness.
You picked through them briefly, “how many do y’all want? Are you guys pretty heavy smokers or still getting the hang of it?”
“We’ll-uh— I guess just whatever you smoke? I’m sure that’s good.” She shrugged, clueless.
No chance they could take what you take.
You pulled two of your lowest level strains. These kids were for sure just figuring out what they liked and you didn’t want them greening out in the middle of the party. Both because you had your own memories of over serving yourself and spending the subsequent eighteen hours truly and utterly miserable and you didn’t want to potentially cheat yourself out of three eager new customers.
“Why don’t you start with this, I’ll give you the second one as a freebie for your first time. it’s Zelato, mid strength hybrid strain, you won’t be too up but you won’t be couch-locked either. I think you guys will like it. If you do, you come back and see me, okay?”, you offered her the two pretty pink pre rolls along with your contact info and she gave you a clean crisp bill in exchange before fluttering back to her friends.
You watched the trio excitedly hurry out to the backyard, like kids on Christmas wanting to play with a shiny new toy fresh out of the box. You liked the job, you enjoyed gathering more and more knowledge about strains and terpenes and sharing what you had learned with your customers. Patients felt like a better term, but it also felt a bit self congratulatory. But it felt true, you loved how natural weed was, it made you feel more like a botanist or a healer than a pharmacist. Still helping people manage anxiety, pain, depression, or just to have a fun night and relax, but without all the side effects and the regulation.
You hoped she and her friends would call on you again. They seemed nice and like they could use someone like you. Especially if they were already experimenting with drugs and partying, it helps to have a dealer you can trust. One that isn’t just wanting to make money, but wanting to educate as well.
You were considering heading outside to smoke a joint of your own, a treat after a job well done. You would probably bail soon, the party seemed to be declining from its apex, and soon your services would no longer be needed. Before you could turn to head to the back yard you felt a strong hand clap around your shoulder. This was so different from the timid shoulder tap of your earlier customer, it almost made you laugh. You didn’t laugh, however, at the grip that stayed on your shoulder, pale knuckles clasped tight around your bone.
You followed the hand up the arm and finally turned to face your assailant. Dark, angry eyes ringed with smudgy purple eyeshadow met yours. A large black bar was tattooed across the bridge of his nose, in the dim, colored party lights you thought it almost looked red. His dark hair was messily tied up in two knots on either side of his head, you thought you could see piercings up along the sides of his ears and he was irate, staring right into your eyes, his lips were moving but you were so stunned and the music was already so loud, you couldn’t hear what he said. You found yourself opting to watch his mouth move for a moment, admiring the fullness of his lips, and the wicked snarl they held.
He was hot. Like really hot. But who the fuck did he think he was grabbing you like this?
You came back to your senses and smacked at his wrist, “back off, dude.”
“Did you sell drugs to my little brother?” He repeated, and this time you heard him. His voice was rough and low, he didn’t release your arm, instead gripping tighter.
“I don’t know who your brother is, I don’t know who you are. Get your fucking hand off of me, asshole.” You gripped his wrist tight and tried to pull it from you. Your touch was like nothing to him, this guy was strong.
He didn’t let up, gesturing behind him with his other hand to the pink haired boy from earlier, red faced with embarrassment,“The fucking kid that you sold drugs to. He’s not even twenty and you’re trying to dope him up?”
“Dope him up? What are you, ninety? Get the fuck off of me” Finally you pulled his hand off of you and pushed him back, hard.
“He’s still a kid, he doesn’t need your shit. Stay away from him.”
He had stepped too far by insulting your craft.
“I never even spoke to your brother, his friend is the one who bought it. Take it up with them if you have a fucking problem.”
The boy, the brother you now knew, and his two friends rushed up, trying to deescalate the quickly rising situation. People around you were starting to take notice.
“Choso, come on relax, we were just experimenting a little. It’s not anything crazy! Everyone smokes weed in college!” Little Brother tried to laugh off the stakes of the situation but his trembling voice betrayed him.
The man in front of you hadn’t stopped glaring at you, he seemed to be calming down a bit, but you could practically hear his blood boiling.
“Yuji, I told you not to come here. You’re here to study, not to mess around and get high.” He barked at his younger brother, who seemed to crumple lightly.
You were seeing an opportunity for a somewhat graceful exit so you started to withdraw, “sounds like this is a family affair, so I’m gonna head. Fuck you, don’t grab random women you don’t know. Kid, your friend has my card if your cop brother decides to let up.”
With your last comment you glared back at the older brother, before turning and leaving the party, Choso seething in your wake, anger now directed at the trio instead of you.
You figured that would be the end of it. That asshole ruining your night and probably never getting another sale out of those three. It was a week later that you got a message from the girl, Nobara, who you had spoken to. She wanted to buy again and you set up a date with her to come by your place and pick up from you. She seemed apologetic in her texts, but you couldn’t blame the girl, you were just thankful she reached out again.
It wasn’t until you opened the door that you realized why she had sounded so sorry. Swinging open your front door you were met with the same asshole who had been bouncing around in your mind making you furious again and again, it was a set up.
“Fuck off.” You slammed the door in his face, locking it loudly.
He knocked before speaking through the thick wood of the door, “I’m here to apologize.”
Yeah, right.
“Don’t care. You can go.” You were already retreating from the door, pissed that not only did you have to see this clown again, but you wouldn’t be getting the money from the deal you had lined up.
“Please let me apologize. I was way out of line. Yuji asked me to come here. Yuji’s my brother, from the party, please I want to apologize.” His voice came muffled from the other side of the thick wooden front door.
He sounded…..desperate. Embarrassed, maybe even ashamed. It wasn’t okay that he grabbed you, yelling at you without even knowing what had happened, but you couldn’t help but think he sounded genuine.
Kicking yourself already, you unlocked the door and opened it. He looked pitiful; big, brown eyes that once were so angry, now turned down giving him the look of a hurt dog. You could see now, in the light, that he had dark bags under his eyes as well, he looked like he had barely slept. His hair was down instead of pulled up like the other night, it hung in loose waves, stopping right at his shoulders. The black tattoo across his face was somehow less threatening, it looked almost like a bandage. The makeup from the other night was present again but softer somehow. You should have been so mad, you should have yelled at him for putting his hands on you and demeaning your work. But seeing him like this, you couldn’t help feeling bad for him. You opened the door and he looked down at you. He was taller than you remembered, a head or so above you. You met his eyeline and leaned against your door frame, crossing your arms in an attempt to maintain your cold demeanor despite how quickly you were forgetting why you had been angry.
“I never went to college.” He blurted, your face must have betrayed your confusion because he elaborated, “I don’t really know how it’s supposed to work. I guess drugs and parties and whatever are part of it. I overreacted. I want to make sure Yuji has a future and a good one, he was the one who deserved to go to college and I didn’t want him to mess up his chance. But that’s not fair. He deserves to have the full experience and I can take that from him.” He huffed out the last part quickly.
You raised your eyebrows. His admission was wandering and full of half offerings that you could piece together to create a clear-ish picture of an older brother pushing his younger brother to try his best and remain undistracted. You could empathize with that, but it doesn’t give him a pass to put his hands on you.
“I told him not to go to that party, I know the guys who were throwing it and I don’t want them taking advantage of him. Yuji’s a really great kid and he’ll go out of his way for pretty much anyone, and I didn’t want to see him get involved with people who don’t care about him. So I went to the party to bring him home, but when I saw him and his friends smoking I figured they had already started working him over and I took it out of you instead of them. I should never have grabbed you like that, or spoken to you like that. I’m sorry.” The words spilled out of him like a boiling over pot, fast and bubbly, quickly falling back to a simmer once out.
Choso looked lighter, still hanging on anxiously at the prospect of forgiveness, but lighter after bearing part of his soul to you. His hands that had been clenched into fists at his sides now hung freely, shoulders dropping slightly with less tension pinning them back. You felt lighter too, clearly the other night had been a misstep, and he obviously felt terrible.
Now that you felt saited in your week old anger, you could finally allow yourself to acknowledge how hot he was. Your anger towards being harassed had distorted your memory of him, he was tall and toned. You would have guessed he was a swimmer or did some kind of daily work that kept him in such incredible shape. The T-shirt hanging loosely over him was cropped enough to end right at his hips, a small sliver of skin peeking out underneath. He wore a simple pair of dark jeans and boots, nearly identical to what he had been wearing at the party. In the daylight you could see he did have a few piercings in each ear, hoops through his earlobes, silver barbells riddling asymmetrically along each ear's cartilage. His nose was strong and structured, lips full and pouted. You had never seen a tattoo like his before, obstructive and obvious right across the bridge of his nose, pure blackout work.
God that had to hurt.
“Why didn’t you go to college?” You pried, resting the top of your head on the doorframe as you looked up at him.
He looked surprised but shrugged, tucking his hands into his pants pockets, “Families are….complicated, I guess. When our parents died, I wanted to be there to look out for Yuji. He was always special, if either of us deserved to have an education, he would have been the one to do something with it.”
You couldn’t help but feel moved. This guy had quite the sob story, dead parents, a younger brother he was the caretaker of, it was noble for him to have sacrificed his own aspirations to support those of his brother. You admired it. A silence settled in between the two of you, wind rustled the trees outside of your house, you could see the chill set over Choso, he had turned his gaze to the ground, jaw set, hands still in his pockets.
“You want to come inside?” You opened the door more, allowing him to see inside.
He cocked his head a bit at you. You couldn’t blame him, you had told him to fuck off the moment he got here, and now you were inviting him inside. Still confused he nodded finally and you moved aside to let him in. He stepped in tentatively, as he passed you you could smell something metallic and organic, like wood stain or metal grease. He stood awkwardly in front of your door as you closed it.
“The smell is kind of…intense in here.” He cleared his throat.
“Right, I’ve gone a little nose blind to it. I hope it doesn’t bother you too much. Would you like anything? Water, coffee, I don’t know if you like tea. I have some beer or something like that if you’re feeling like drinking at 2pm.” You offered, realizing you didn’t actually know why you had invited him inside. Sure, he had looked cold but really you didn’t want him to leave yet.
“Coffee, if you have it.” He perked up a bit.
“Always.” You walked over to your small kitchenette.
You lived in a one bedroom. It really should have been considered a studio, but technically your bedroom did have a door. The living area, entryway, and kitchen were basically all one large room. You had a brown couch along the wall next to the door facing the tv, an afghan blanket draped over the back, a low coffee table in the middle covered in various hobbies of yours: books, your bong, half done crafts. A two chair dining set sat mostly unused against the far window across from the front door, you never sat there unless you were working, you took nearly all your meals in front of the tv. A bad habit you knew you should avoid, but just couldn’t bring yourself to break.
Your bedroom was off to the left, with the bathroom attached behind the door. It was a pain to have guests over, knowing they would have to walk through your bedroom in order to use the restroom. But it was a good incentive to keep your room tidy! You were suddenly thankful your anger had fired you up to do some cleaning this week, grumbling to yourself while folding laundry, “another thing-s” and “if he fucking tries again-s” leaving you as your scrubbed the bathroom and made your bed.
Choso was still standing, watching you, hands in his pockets.
“You can sit down if you like,” you nodded towards the couch, pulling two mugs down from where they hung above your sink.
You heard the sounds of his clothes rustling, some jewelry jingling, and the creek of your old couch adjusting to new weight. You tried to stay focused on pouring the coffee, pulling some sugar packets from a small drawer beside your coffee maker.
“Black is fine for me.” He piped up from the couch, he was sitting so stiffly, hands folded in his lap, back straight, thighs rigid as if just his presence would break something.
You dressed your coffee how you liked and grabbed his black cup and brought them over to the coffee table, sitting next to him. You sipped your coffee, watching him take his time doing the same.
“So if you didn’t go to college…” you started carefully, “how do you know Geto and Gojo?”
“Geto and I used to work together. Before he went back to school. He’s not a bad guy, neither of them are.” Choso held his mug close to his lips, he was being so honest, you got the sense he struggled with hiding his feelings. Hence the temper.
“Earlier, when I said I didn’t want Yuji around them. It’s not about them. They’re fine guys. I just don’t want Yuji getting distracted.” His voice was even and firm, he really did sound like someone’s parent.
“I get that. Those two…they’re kind of their own breed. I know what you mean.” You leaned back a little on the couch, letting one leg cross over the other.
Gojo and Geto were intense, and they had a reputation for throwing wild parties and nearly getting kicked out every year. You let the camaraderie of shared secrets hang between the two of you before pressing further.
“So I take it you and Yuji had a talk about casual drug use?” You couldn’t help but smirk a little, taking a mental tally of the bong on the table, the joints rolled and packaged on your dining table, the bag of flower tucked beside your tv.
Choso let out a strangled laugh, clearly an unfamiliar sound for him, “yeah he uh…he kinda let me have it. I know I made an ass of myself, but I didn’t realize how much I had embarrassed him.”
You joined his laugh thinking of the smiley, awkward kid laying into his much more intense older brother.
Choso turned his body toward you, “look, it’s not you. It’s not even the drugs. I just don’t want him losing himself to anything before he has the chance to figure out who he is and what he wants. I don’t want him stuck with something when he’s just barely starting his life.”
You couldn’t stop the laugh that left you. Quickly it progressed to a fit of laughter. Choso was not laughing, he was watching you laugh at him. Something serious that he had shared with you, a real fear and concern of his that you were now cackling at. You could see the hurt in his face start to give way to anger again, and you came down from your fit.
“I’m sorry, I really am. I get what you’re saying, but don’t you think you’re kind of overreacting. It’s just weed, he’s not shooting up in alleyways. He’s not dedicating his life to anything, he’s just relaxing and having a little fun with his friends.”
“It’s my job to make sure he stays focused and I don’t see how smoking is going to help him.” He crossed his arms, starting to get agitated.
“Seriously? A little weed, a big cup of coffee, and you feel like you could knock out all the work you’ve been putting off for weeks. It can help you get rid of all that noise in your head that makes little tasks feel big and scary. You know what I mean?” You were a little on your soapbox now, but when he shook his head silently it dawned on you.
“You’ve never tried it?” You marveled at him. He had to be 26 or 27, and he hadn’t tried it once?
He shrugged again, “I don't really have a lot of free time, I guess?”
You gasped happily, suddenly all the anger was erased under a new beautiful light of discovery.
“Choso, you have to try it. If anyone needs it, it’s you. All that responsibility, you’ve got to be stressed out, give yourself an hour or two to get away from it. You’ll love it.” You had moved onto your knees now, energy shooting up your body.
“I don’t know…”He was smiling despite himself, hesitation in his voice but excitement leading the charge.
“ If you try it, and really try it, right now and afterwards tell me you hate it, we can forget all about this and we’ll be square and I won’t sell to Yuji and his friends anymore.” You offered already thinking about whether a joint or glass would be better for him, “but if I’m right and you like it, I get a new customer and you get completely forgiven for the other night.”
Choso looked into your winde, eager eyes and felt his reservations melt, how could he say no.
“Okay. Just a little.” He agreed, finally cracking a smile onto that stern, beautiful face.
An hour later, one coughing fit from him attempting to use a bong, and half of a joint later, you and Choso sat side by side on your couch beautifully high. Smoke hung thick in the room, his head was leaned back against the back of your couch, his ropey neck on full display, adam’s apple bobbing as he swallowed again and again trying to wet his dry mouth.
You rested your head on your wrist, watching him grapple with the high for the first time. You had turned some music on, something low and vibey, just to keep up the ambience and avoid any paranoia brought on by old house noises or -god forbid- silence itself.
“Did you want some more water?” You offered, gesturing to his mostly full cup that he had kept forgetting about.
He sat up slowly, “Yeah, that sounds good.”
Leaning forward, he grabbed the cup and drank it down furiously, wayward droplets spilling out of the sides of his mouth. You watched closely as the little stream of water slipped between his lips, down the side of his chin, across the cut of his jaw, and down the column of his throat, passing the chain he wore and trailing underneath the neckline of his t-shirt. Your mind raced before you could catch it, you imagined how it would feel to slide your tongue up its wake, the cool water contrasting against his hot, flushed skin.
Quickly blinking away the fantasy, you saw he was looking back at you. He had been watching you, his dark brown eyes moving all over your face in an unreadable expression.
Could he read your mind? Could he tell how you had been imagining him?
He finally blinked and looked away, drawing in a breath and leaning forward to place the glass back on the coffee table, “Sorry.”
Before you could brush away the apology he continued.
“So how long have you been…..doing this?” he settled back down against the couch, the weed soothing any lingering nerves.
“A couple years, it's a good way to keep myself in school and avoid any debt. Plus you get to make your own hours, it's flexible.” You shrugged, “and, I don't know, I guess I like that it helps people. To have fun and relax or like, helping them just get through the day. I like that I can help people feel better.”
He looked surprised at you, and you shrugged again, feeling your face burn slightly.
“I get it's a dumb thing to say, and I know I'm really patting myself on the back here, but that's why I like it.” you pulled slightly at a loose thread on the hemline of the couch cushion underneath you, avoiding his gaze, avoiding his judgment.
“I dont think it's dumb. I know what you mean.” the sincerity in his voice was so simple, as though thinking anything else hadn't even crossed his mind, “I already feel more relaxed than I have in years. I didn’t know it was like this, so you helped me. I like that you want to help people.”
You smiled, you couldn't believe this was the same guy you had met so poorly the other night. He smiled back at you, a crooked, unpracticed smile that seemed as shocking to him as it was to you. You let the smoke linger between the two of you, both inside and outside.
“So obviously you know my job, but what is it you do?” you scooted a little closer on the couch.
He slumped a little, “a couple things, I do tattoos, piercings, that sort of thing..I’ve been working at an auto shop for the last few months, on days where I don't have appointments.”
“Do you do your own?” you asked, you had only seen the one across his bridge, you weren't sure if he had anymore.
“A few. I didn't do this one,” he gestures to his nose, “Not the one on my back, but a few others, yeah”
“Do you like it?”
“I do. I always liked to draw,” he stretched to scratch the back of his neck, “a buddy of mine let me into his shop a few years ago. I only started the car stuff when Yuji went to school, it's a good skill to know, helps me feel useful.” he shrugged, “I like working with my hands, it keeps me out of my head.”
“Are you in your head right now?” you asked, hoping being with you was relaxing him as much as the weed had.
“No.” He smiles just to himself, closing his eyes and taking a few deep breaths, enjoying how clear and simple his usually racing mind felt, “I kind of forgot it's supposed to feel like this.”
You laughed a bit, “It can be.”
He laughed too, a calming, easy chuckle.
“I’m glad you came by today, Choso.” You said softly
“Me too. I know I said Yuji asked me too, but I wanted to come and apologize. I was out of line, the over protective big brother act is so lame, I know. We’re just…all each other has.”
He suddenly was struggling to find the right words, he didn’t usually talk this much. The drugs had made him chatty, you had made him relaxed. Choso realized he hadn’t been alone with a woman in months, going on a full year. He spent nearly all of his time working, rarely went out with his few friends, and almost never went out on dates. He hadn’t even thought of being interested in a woman in weeks, choosing to rely on himself whenever the rare sexual urge did arise. He wasn’t a man without libido, but he was usually so focused—stressed out— sex just kind of lost priority. But here, sitting next to you, nerves hazy, voices soft, it was quickly climbing back up his priority ladder. He hadn’t noticed the first night how beautiful your eyes were, now they were slightly lidded and sensual as they looked over him, pupils wide and hungry. Your lips were full and shapely, a little dry from the smoke, but your wet tongue would dart out occasionally to moisten them again. His neck grew hot thinking about how soft your tongue looked. He bet you tasted so good, the lingering taste of coffee and smoke in your mouth, sliding your soft tongue against his, running your skilled hands over his body. He had watched you rolling the joint earlier, it was so routine, so ritual for you, but it was so intricate. You had clearly perfected it, nimble fingers filling, rolling, and sealing the flower inside of the pretty pink paper. Looking at them now, he wanted to put them in his mouth, to suck on them, to feel them tangle in his hair while you rode him right here on your couch.
He thought he would burst into flame when your fingertips touched the top off his hand, derailing his perverse train of thought from continuing.
“Choso?” Your voice was so soft when you said his name, it sounded right coming out of your mouth. You liked the way the letters tasted, he liked the way your tongue slipped around each sound, directly into his ear.
“Thank you, for giving me another chance.” He said finally.
Neither of you were sure when or how, but you had become very close. You could smell the sting of tea tree oil on his skin, now identifiable, and see every little crack in his glossy lips. You were staring into his bottom lip, as if summoned he drew it in, whetting it before releasing it again. He could see you watching him, he was watching you right back, he could feel your hot breath against his face, he could smell your shampoo, he could see the small coffee stain on the corner of your mouth, he wanted to be the napkin or shirt sleeve you’d use to wipe it away. Before he realized it, he was leaning closer to your lips. Your heart raced as he came closer, you weren’t sure how you had gotten here, just minutes ago the conversation was so benign and so casual, and now there was this…heat… between the two of you. You watching his mouth, him watching yours, you felt the electricity in your body ignite. The fingers that had been on the back of his hand trembled slightly as he leaned forward. He was moving so slow, being so careful to not push you. You gripped his hand tightly and pulled him closer, connecting your lips.
Your eyes were closed tightly, or else you would have seen the way his flew open before rolling back in his head. The same hand that had first grabbed you a week ago now moved up your arm and up to your jaw, pulling your lips harder against his. His kisses were hungry and desperate, yours were just as fevered as you felt his spit combine with yours.You moaned, lips parting enough for him to slip his tongue inside of your mouth. To your shock and delight you felt a small metal ball slide against your tongue, his tongue was pierced. You shivered, already thinking of how that cold metal would feel along your body, across your nipples, flicking against your clit. You thought you might faint as he pulled you over his lap.
He was faring no better, his hand pulling at you desperately, your jaw, your hair, your waist, your back, anywhere he could reach. He felt clumsy and a little pathetic, but he was too desperate to care. You were so hot, you smelled so good, your lips were so soft, he couldn't stop himself if he wanted to. When you finally did pull away, needing to catch your breath, he followed your lips eagerly, opting to kiss your chin or the underside of your jaw instead.
“Choso” you whimpered, pulling lightly at the hair at the back of his neck.
He continued kissing along your neck, moaning happily at the feeling of your nails against his nape. The sun had set outside, leaving the two of you in warm lamp light, the amber auras setting the deep brown of his eyes ablaze as he gazed up at you. Once your breath returned he moved one hand over the side of your face and pulled you in for another, softer but still passionate kiss. You relaxed into him, moving your hands over his chest, feeling the taught muscle and pleasure heated skin.
“I want you to tell me what you like.” He muttered against your lips in the form of a lover's secret, “I want to make it up to you. I want to please you.”
You felt yourself start to drip at his words, so devoid of the ego you were so familiar with in other men. A fast learner, too, his hands were carefully tracking your reactions, already finding erogenous zones that you usually had to demonstrate, tongue matching pace with yours. Kissing him deeply, tongues tangling, saliva and moans losing their origins points in the mess of shared wetness, you rocked your hips against his. He jerked up, unwillingly, a long, throaty moan leaving his lips as he threw his head back against the back of the couch, his hands on your hips gripping tighter.
“Baby….fuck”, he was getting hard so fast just from kissing you, it was embarrassing.
“You feel so big, Choso.” You rocked against him more, grinding into his erection over and over.
He blushed, the bar on his face doing nothing to hide the deep red settling across his cheeks. Feeling emboldened by the effect you had on him, you pulled your shirt off, leaving you bare chested on top of him. He was awestruck at the sight of your nearly naked body, his shock only growing when you grabbed his hands and brought them up to your breasts,squeezing them through his hands.
“Touch me here, like this.” You showed him how you liked to be squeezed and groped, all while keeping up your gyration on his lap.
He followed your lead immediately, mouth watering at how your breasts moved in his hands as you moved. He wanted to put them in his mouth, he wanted you completely naked, his own clothes felt so stiff and tight now. Choso removed his hands from your chest in a flash to quickly remove his own shirt before putting his hands on you once again, groping and squeezing the mounds freely. You moaned both at the sight of him bare and at how well he was following your directions.
“Fuck Choso… you look so good.” You marveled at him through your heavy lashes.
He was so toned, so well cultivated. His body was like that of a swimmer or a rock climber, lean and muscled, clearly focusing on mobility and functional strength above vanity. Tattoos littered his body, classic things, sigils and birds and quotes you couldn't quite read. All in due time.
In a move surprising you he sat up, abdominals rippling, keeping one strong forearm around your waist to hold you firm against him and he brought one of your nipples into his mouth. Even the fatty flesh couldn't muffle the haughty moan that escaped him, nor could it hide the way his eyes rolled back in his head. Your hands pulled at his hair, bringing him as close as possible, letting loose mewls of pleasure at his sucking. His tongue piercing circled around your areola, teeth quickly following to bite lightly at the rising peak. His dark eyes, now almost entirely black from blown out pleasure, looked up at you. The pornographic display in front of you was enough to have you whimpering already, the feeling of him so solid and throbbing underneath your hips wasn't helping, or was it, you supposed it depends on the goal; Longevity or absolute pleasure. Choso moved his mouth over to your other breast, repeating the same routine of circling and biting and suckling, he was completely blissed out, barely registering anything beyond the taste of your skin and the weight of your body on his. When you pulled at his hair to get him to face you again, you had to pull harder than you expected to get his attention. When you finally did, his head tipped back dramatically, a drunken smile across his wet, swollen lips.
“Take your pants off,” you whimpered breathily, “please.”
You stood up in front of him, feeling a slight ache in your hip hinges from your previous position and quickly rid yourself of your pants. He did the same, removing his belt, and kicking his shoes off before pulling his jeans off and tossing them aside. You stood in front of each other, in only your panties, him in black boxer briefs, length straining against the fabric. Breathing hard, you took each other in, it was so simple, but so sexy to be just standing before each other nearly completely naked. Not touching, not distracted by embracing hands or mouths, just taking a moment to appreciate the unguarded form of one another.
He was so taken by you, the swell of your hips, the curved lines of your silhouette, scars and lines and tattoos adorning your skin in a completely unique and deeply personal pattern. He liked the panties you were wearing, he wanted to keep them, maybe you would let him. They were a dark purple mesh fabric, his favorite color. There was no way you could have known, but it felt like fate. Your neck was starting to show little bruises from his kisses earlier, soon they would be purple too, he couldn't wait to see. Finally, he stepped toward you, his strong hands finding yours, bringing them to his body just as you had earlier. Your hands followed down the lines of his body, the muscles so hard under your touch. He moaned at your touch, chills rocking through his body, he was so reactive for you, every twitch of your fingers being amplified through his body like an electric current.
“You want to stay out here, or do I get to see your bedroom?”
“I’m a little partial to riding you right here, what do you think?” you flirted up at him, pushing on his stomach lightly, he was practically drooling.
You had chosen his exact fantasy from earlier and once again he found himself thinking that it was impossible you could have known, but it had to be fate. He kissed your lips again, the fever from earlier returning as you pushed him back down onto the couch, following him closely to keep your lips connected. Before you could move to straddle him, he gripped your hips.
“Please. Wanna taste you first, please baby, please.” He begged. He sounded so good when he begged.
You weren't one to argue with someone asking so nicely, so you did as he asked, sitting where he had been earlier, loving the feeling of the warmth he had left behind embedded in the cushion. Choso moved between your legs, his hands sliding up your thighs and pulling your panties away from your aching sex. He couldn't stop himself from bringing the panties to his face and taking in your scent, he didn't care if it made him a pervert, he loved the smell of a good, wet pussy, and yours may be the best he had ever had. Your jaw dropped at the unabashed display, catching his eye as he exhaled luxuriously.
“Fuuuuck, can I keep these?” It was like he was high all over again, one hit of you knocking him on his heels more than your highest testing strain ever could.
You nodded slowly, too shocked to speak. You didn't even care that you liked that pair, they were comfortable and sexy, nothing could compare to the thought of Choso keeping a pair of your used panties for himself.
He set them on top of his pants on the floor, before resuming his migration across the sensitive skin of your inner legs. You could feel yourself dripping onto the couch, you didn't care, you were too turned on to care about anything except him. Lying on his stomach on your couch, he was finally face to face with your bare pussy. He could feel himself starting to rut into the couch cushion, aching cock desperate for relief. Finally, with one last cautious look up at you, Choso slid his fore and middle fingers between your lower lips, separating them slightly to look right at your weeping folds. Even the light brush of his fingertips separating you had you ready to arch your back, you were so wet, his long tongue swiped up your slit, and a strangled gasp ripped itself from your throat.
One hand flew to his hair, struggling to decide if you wanted to push him away or pull him in deeper, opting to just pull. Choso was completely lost within you, your taste, your smell, the feeling of how wet you had gotten already, he wanted to drink up everything you had. He moaned into your dripping pussy as you pulled his hair harder, loud squelching and slurping sounds filled the room alongside your gasping, frantic moans of curses garbled with his name.
“You taste so good, baby,” he complimented, his round tongue piercing flicking so deliciously against your clit as he spoke, “I knew you would. Fuck, you’re too good to me.”
You could barely hear him. Too fixated on rocking your hips against his face, trying desperately to amplify the pleasure he was giving you. Choso kissed your pussy with long, flat tongued laps, his piercing circling your clit in a delicious rhythm that had you wailing. You had never been so thankful to live alone, one of your hands left his hair so you could bite hard on your knuckles, a foolish attempt to stifle your moans. Wisps of his bangs fell in his face, blocking you from his eyeline, he attempted to blow the strands out of his way, needing to see you struggle to quiet yourself. You were putting on such a beautiful show for him, panting and moaning above him, showing him exactly how good he was making you feel, he didn't want to miss a second of it. Breaking away only momentarily to brush his hair away from his face, only to have them fall back in their place, Choso huffed in frustration, his hot, irritated breath sending tingles across your slippery folds. You looked down at him, feeling him pull away briefly to pull a black hair tie from one wrist and hand it to you. Your instructions were clear as he dove back in, once again devouring you; you pulled his hair into a small bun, tying it quickly and returning your hand to cover your mouth. His own hands were clasped around your thighs, bringing them into his ears and diving in even further.
The lower half of his face, from top of nose to under his jaw, was shimmering, he was losing all sense of himself. He wanted to die between your legs, he wanted your thighs to crush him, he wanted to drown in your cum, he wanted the last sound he ever heard to be your squeaking whimpers of his name. His cock was pulsing against your couch, swollen nearly to the point of pain, with every lap it was getting harder. He didn’t think he would ever stop, your hands in his hair, nails against his neck and shoulders, your smell in his nose, your taste on his tongue, he could have stayed there forever. It wasn't until you started to pull him away by his roots that he finally came up for air again.
You shuddered as you peeled Choso away from your pussy. A thin, glistening string of spit and your arousal joined his wet lips to your sex, it was so erotic. He was panting as well, eyes wild with pleasure, damp face, swollen lips, looking to you for why you would have deprived him of his meal.
“Please, Choso, please let me fuck you,” you begged.
He protested weakly, “But I want you to--”
“Please, baby. I need you inside so badly.” You pointed out, moving your hand over the side of his face.
He pressed his cheek into your palm and nodded, sighing hard trying to catch his breath. You pulled him up to you, he followed, crawling on his hands up to your lips. Your kisses were now wet after his pleasuring you, you could taste yourself at the deepest part of his mouth you could reach. Choso ground his erection into you, sliding his length across your slick pussy and panting into your mouth. Gathering all your strength back you sat up, moving to assume the position from before. In the movements, he had finally freed his aching cock, gripping it hard at the base as you climbed over his lap. You slotted your lips against his over and over, tongues tangling, hands moving over hot, prickled skin. You rocked your hips up and down your slit, drenching him and building your anticipation. Choso pressed his forehead against yours, you could feel the sweat of his skin and the sweat of yours combining in between your skin. He angled his now dripping cock right at your entrance, you hissed as you made your way down his length. Moans escaped both of you as your tight walls sucked him in, head still pressed together, his hand bruising your waist. It had become so intimate, he filled you so entirely, pushing hard against the barrier of your cervix. You started to grind against him, moving your hips up and down, whimpering pathetically, arching your back. Your hands settled on his shoulders and stomach as you rode him faster and faster.
“Fuck, yes, you feel so good. Thank you.” Choso’s eyes were locked on your bouncing breasts. He leaned forward and caught one of your puffy nipples in his mouth again, sucking hard.
The feeling of him so deep inside of you, your increased sensitivity from him eating you out, and now his hot mouth teething and pulling at your chest had you so close already. You were almost embarrassed, but you couldn't keep yourself from bouncing more and more, grinding right up against his pelvis. Your hands moved up the back of his neck, keeping his head buried in your breasts, he switched to suck on your other nipple, moaning against your hot skin. One of his big hands squeezed at the fat of your ass, he couldn't get enough of you; he wanted to keep his hands and his mouth full of you, his cock buried inside of you forever. Your moans rose in pitch quickly, the hair at the base of his cock rubbing right against your clit. You pulled away, arching into his hand on your lower back, and humping against him even faster.
“Cho-Fuck baby, I…” You mewl out.
“Cum, please cum for me, baby. Make a mess on me please, cum on my cock, pleasepleaseplease.” he babbled, holding your hips in a bruising vice and helping you to raise and lower yourself.
He planted his feet on the ground, thrusting up to meet you halfway. You were so tight and hot, he could feel your wetness dripping down his balls, he could taste your sweat on the backs of his lips. Your cries started becoming intense and your body was shuddering against him, you could barely string together any thoughts beyond your desire to cum. FInally it all became too much, the hot pleasure that had been building all bursting out from you at once.
“Choso! I-- I--I’m cumming!” You cried against him, his thrusts under you were relentless, not stopping even as your orgasm peaked and valleyed before him.
“Fuck baby, yes. More more, please, fuck please, im--,” Choso’s own orgasm ripped through his body with nearly no warning, finally slowing his thrust, opting to press as deep as he could and dropping his head back against the couch. He moaned your name scrambled with curses and his throaty raspy groans.
Coming down from your shared high, Choso thrust up into you a few more times, shuttering at the feeling of spilling long spurts of cum inside of your hot, wet walls. You stilled your motions completely, hips aching, sweat dripping down your body, you pressed your head against his again, trying to catch your breath as quickly as possible. Choso kissed your jaw, your neck, your lips, your cheek, your temple, anywhere his lips could reach, sturdy hands massaging your hips and ass as he did. You smiled down at him, his face was tinted pink, his eyes were wet and full, he looked so fucked out, and so beautiful. The bun you had styled for him was barely hanging on,his bangs now stuck to his damp forehead. You dipped your head down and kissed him, the kiss now lazy but just as wet. Slippery mouths joining again and again as he rubbed your back. Once you felt you could move again, you moved off of his lap, his softening cock sliding out of you and flopping against his stomach. He panted in recovery once you had taken your place on the couch next to him, he pulled your legs into his lap, wanting to keep as good a hold on you as he could while still inside this bubble of intimacy you had created. He moved the back of his knuckles up and down your shin, turning his face toward you and gazing at you.
“That was…” He started, trailing off as words failed him once again.
You nodded blissfully, reaching over to grab his hand. He kissed the back of your hand.
“You’re….” this time he found his finishing words, “wow.”
You chuckled, “You too. I’m really glad you came over.”
“Me too.” he laughed a bit as well, gesturing to the half joint on the table, “You’re a bad influence on me.”
“I think you liked it.” you sat up taking the joint between your fingers and taking a lighter from the table.
You held the pink joint in between your lips, lighting it and puffing once before passing it over to Choso. He accepted and took a hit, then another, exhaling happily.
“I did. I do.” he answered finally.
You took the joint back, sitting up to his eye level as you puffed.
“I hope you don't think I’ll be giving you a discount because of this, I’m not that kind of dealer.” you joked.
A flirtatious smirk pulled at his lips, “If you had let me finish making you cum in my mouth, I think I could change your mind.”
You rolled your eyes, already feeling your pussy dampen and your nipples harden at his candor. He slid one arm around you, pulling you close and kissing your smoke warmed lips.
“Could I, maybe, come over again?” he asked against your lips, “Without needing to apologize to you for making a total ass of myself?”
Your heart squeezed, you had not yet started to worry that this was a one and done, his expert work leaving you already craving more. Everything that had happened was so unexpected, you started the day still seething from the first impression, but he had melted your icy demeanor instantly. You did want to see Choso again, you wanted him to make you feel like that again, you wanted to spoil him the way he had spoiled you. You wanted a chance to show him how good he had made you feel, and now you had the chance. You knew his situation, you knew yours, it was incredibly likely that this would be temporary, but even one more chance to share a night with him was enough for now.
I hope you guys enjoyed! As always, i did! Remember to use drugs responsibly and not give in to peer pressure, unless you think itll make people like you, then succumb. (im joking). alright bye! -- <3 Doodle
192 notes · View notes
bihansthot · 7 months
Text
Name: Mid-Autumn Festival 1,000 Follower Spectacular!
Rating: Mature
Pairing: Bi-Han x afab!Reader
Word Count: 4,000
Summary: You and your husband Bi-Han enjoy a nice family dinner at Madam Bo’s for the Mid-Autumn Festival and later enjoy some alone time with one another, experimenting in ways you never have.
Author’s notes: Happy Mid-Autumn Festival lovelies! Have I got a treat for you and it involves mooncakes but that’s not all! Y’all wanted Bi-Han getting a prostate massage and fuck if I didn’t deliver it! This is kind of a mash up of things I wanted to write, one being festival stuff, the other being a celebration of hitting over 1.000 followers here on tumblr! It’s so wild to me that a blog that just rambles about Bi-Han and writes about him has so much love but here we are! This story has some dirty talk and possessive Bi-Han in it but also has some soft moments, its a good mix of fun and filth and hopefully y’all enjoy it! If you do please don’t be shy with the likes, comments, reblogs, DMs etc. Let me know you liked it please! Enjoy lovelies!
You giggle and shove Bi-Han’s heavy body off of yours, “Polar Bear, stop, we’re in public,” your words are slightly slurred as you find yourself pleasantly buzzed. You look around the expansive tea house and despite the size everything seems warm and homey, you’re always happy when you’re out with Bi-Han at Madam Bo’s.
“Come on qīn, it’s the Mid Autumn Festival it is all about the love between Chang’e and Hou Yi, you shouldn’t be stingy with the affection,” Bi-Han laughed and you could tell by the blush high on his cheeks that the cryomancer was drunk, or at least tipsy, Bi-Han could hold his liquor quite well and you didn’t think you’ve ever actually seen him drunk.
“Brother, why don’t you have some more to eat, that’s what the Mid-Autumn Festival is really about, sharing food with your family,” Kuai Liang chimes in pushing a delectable-looking bowl of steamed crabs toward Bi-Han. “Father always used to talk about the importance of spending time together as a family.”
“Fuck Father, I’m glad he’s dead,” Bi-Han slurs before reaching for a steamed pork bun instead as he bit into the light, fluffy bun.
“Polar Bear, please not tonight, tonight is about family, don’t upset your brother’s please,” you urge, your face clouding with worry.
“Tch, sorry qīn, you’re right tonight it about celebrating family and being together,” he grumbles reluctantly and motions for you to pour him another cup of baijiu.
You’re hesitant to pour another cup for him, but you don’t want to deal with his complaining and posturing if you don’t so despite your better judgment you pour the liquor into his cup. You reach for some of Madam Bo’s delicious har gao and happily eat the plump, juicy shrimp dumpling leaving the crabs for your husband and brothers-in-law to share.
“It was a good idea coming down to Madam Bo’s for Mid-Autumn Festival this year, none of us have to clean up afterwards,” Tomas laughs and takes one of the crabs for himself. “I know I appreciate it! Do you know how much work it is cooking and cleaning up for the three of you?” You laugh and take a sip of oolong tea, trying to pace yourself on drinking, you’re well aware you can’t hold your liquor quite as well as Bi-Han can, well not baijiu at any rate.
“Who cleans up qin? Huh?” Bi-Han raises his eyebrow at you and you have the decency to look sheepish knowing full well the cryomancer always did the cleanup when you did the cooking.
“I, uh well,” you shove some roast duck in Bi-Han’s mouth to silence the cryomancer’s protests. “Tomas, how are things lately, I feel like I haven’t see you or Kuai Liang in ages,” you switch the topic.
“Things have been challenging but very rewarding, work with the Shirai Ryu are going well and we’ve even managed to find a promising new initiative, his name is Hanzo,” Tomas answers with ease in between sips of his own glass of baijiu.
You were so pleased the brothers had managed to work out their differences after Fire God Liu Kang and intervened and the two of you had talked some sense into Bi-Han. Kuai Liang and Tomas had still kept their Shirai Ryu to be the guardians and protectors of Earthrealm whereas Bi-Han kept his Lin Kuei and they were granted more of a prominent role in the tournament and guiding Earthrealm. It had been harder to convince Sektor that his army of drones were no longer necessary, but thankfully Bi-Han had seen sense and had commanded Sektor to stand down. There was still definitely tension between the brothers, but you were content that you were all in a good enough place that you all could come together to celebrate the Mid-Autumn Festival as a family. The festival was a foreign concept to you when you first arrived in Fengjian, but you had fallen in love with the holiday when Bi-Han told you the story of Chag’e and Hou Yi, their beautiful, tragic love story made you weep, but despite the sorrow you loved the idea of being able to celebrate their love. “Hanzo huh? Well that’s good, I’m glad to hear things are going well, but I will admit things are lonely without all of you.”
“Earthrealm needs the Shirai Ryu, its a sacrifice we all have to make,” Kuai Liang interjected before you could get too involved in clan politics.
“Yes, of course, I understand,” you reply, sneaking another dumpling and a sip of tea, the table was laden with so much food there was no way the four of you would be able to finish, you regret not inviting Sektor and Cyrax, but thought it was better they weren’t there as there was still bad blood between the two clans.
“Who’s ready for Moon Cakes?” Madam Bo suddenly interrupts, placing a heaping plate of assorted pastries on the table.
“Moon cakes!” You squeal with excitement and suddenly you somehow feel hungry again, you had never had the pastry before you started dating Bi-Han, but after trying them you were hooked on them, the custard-filled ones were your favorite. As if she were a psychic Madam Bo pops a mini custard-filled one in your mouth and you can’t help moaning with delight as the flaky pastry gives way to the luxurious custard inside.
“Madam Bo, you spoil us,” Tomas smiles at the elderly patroness as she smiles at your happy reaction to the confection.
“Nonsense Smoke, it’s Mid-Autumn Festival! Everyone gets moon cakes! I can’t have my customers unsatisfied on such an auspicious day,” Madam Bo chirps happily.
“Thank you Madam Bo,” you manage after finishing your miniature moon cake, a look of satisfaction plastered to your face.
“The one with the black dot is the sesame one Bi-Han,” Madam Bo laughs before slipping him the bill and heading off to tend to her other customers.
Bi-Han doesn’t hesitate grabbing one of the ones with the black dots, sesame moon cakes you know are his favorite and he acts like a little kid when he gets one, to the point that you’re surprised he doesn’t ask you the make the confection year round. He finishes off his moon cake before draining his umpteenth cup of baijiu, he counts out his bills carefully before adding some extra for Madam Bo, despite tipping not being customary in China, it was a holiday after all and Madam Bo deserved it for her warmth and hospitality. “Shall we?” he asks standing up and swaying on his feet slightly.
The four of you make your way back to the Lin Kuei Temple as you bid good night to your brothers-in-law and giggle drunkenly toddling after Bi-Han.
You flop on your shared bed as Bi-Han struggles with getting his belt off, he finally works his way through all the layers of his belt and lets it fall on the stone floor. You watch him wrestle with the rest of his complex uniform, in no state to be able to help him with the various layers and complex knots holding his layers off. After several long minutes, Bi-Han seems to finally work his way out of his excessively complicated robes as he flops on the bed next to you. “I’m proud of you Polar Bear, I know letting your brothers leave and create their own clan isn’t easy for you, but you did a very good job acting very civilized tonight.”
“I don’t want to talk about them, show me your tiddies,” he smirks at you reaching for the hem of your qipao you had worn at his insistence.
You laugh at his immature behavior, “help me unzip it then,” you whisper running your hand along his smooth cheek.
“Fine, fine,” he agrees, giving you a slightly petulant pout as if to say, how can’t you just become instantly naked, as he tugs the zipper down and carefully helps you out of the garment.
You’re pleased that even in his inebriated state Bi-Han had the common sense to remember this was your favorite qipao, one based off of one of his mother’s, and he was gentle with it. You lay next to him in just your lingerie, one of your favorite sets, dark blue and lacy, it was equal parts delicate and sexy, it also fit perfectly, there was no overflow or pinching and the underwear hid your imperfect little belly.
“Fuck your tits are huge,” He laughs drunkenly burying his cold face in between your ample chest making pleased little noises as he rubs his face back and forth.
“Polar Bear,” you giggle as you tug his hair loose from his tie, his ebony locks spilling down his well-muscled back, you stroke his silken locks as your husband continues to amuse himself with your breasts.
“I love your tits so much, they’re so soft and so jiggly, they’re like big ol’ flans,” he chuckles as he reaches around to undo the clasp of your bra to be able to manhandle them with ease.
You let out a soft sigh of pleasure as his cold, calloused hands squeeze and grope your sensitive breasts. “I want to play with you tonight, please?” You pull Bi-Han’s head up to look him in his beautiful chocolate eyes as you give him your best pleading look.
He sucks in a low breath and reluctantly rolls off of you to give you free rein of his body, “what did you have in mind qin?”
“There’s something I want to try, keep an open mind Polar Bear, its supposed to feel really good for you, I promise,” you bite your lower lip, sucking it into your mouth as your eyes roam over his flawless body.
“What?” He asks sitting up on his elbows, trying to fight off the pleasant floaty feeling the baijiu has given him.
“I’m not going to tell you, you just have to trust me, you know I’d never do anything to hurt you, but it might be kind of weird,” you explain running your warm hand along his aching, cold cock.
He leans back with a pleased groan as he lets you stroke his cock with slow, gentle strokes, “fine, but it better feel good,” he mumbles, bucking his hips up slightly.
“Where’s the lube,” you ask pressing a kiss to his cold cheek.
“Lube? What the fuck do you need lube for?” Bi-Han bristles immediately at the mention of the lubricant.
“I need it to jack you off, you said you’d keep an open mind Polar Bear,” you frown at him as you straddle his narrow hips.
The cryomancer grunts unhappily as he relents, “its in the draw in the bedside table,” he tells you as he squirms under you trying to get some friction for his neglected cock.
“Got it,” you grin triumphantly as you pull the tube from the drawer and make your way back to Bi-Han’s dripping cock, it's so pretty you lick your lips, huge, dripping, and heavy against his perfectly cut abs. “Mmm Polar Bear your cock looks delicious right now, I’m a little jealous of my hand,” you sigh almost wistfully as you squeeze some of the lubricant in your hand as you grasp his big cock and give it a gentle tug.
“You can suck it instead,” the cryomancer grins at you as he lifts himself back up on his elbows to watch you.
“Maybe I will,” you muse sticking your tongue out playfully as you fist him gently, not applying much pressure yet, just teasing the cryomancer, loving the feeling of his thick, veiny cold cock in your hand. You lay with your head on his rock-hard abs as you can’t help but let your tongue dart out and gather the pearly fluid leaking out of Bi-Han’s cock, it’s cold but not bitter, salty but not unpleasant, musky and masculine and perfectly him.
“Mmm qin, that feels nice,” the cryomancer practically purrs in his drunken state, something you absolutely loved was how Bi-Han didn’t seem to care about how vocal he was when he had been drinking.
Your hand works along his cock, stroking him with a firm grasp as you twist your hand in a circle when you reach his soft, velveteen head, “Bi-Han,” you whine his name as you look up at his pretty flushed face, his hair hanging loose around his face as he bites his lip with pleasure, it was the perfect picture a sight no one but you were privy to see. Your hand moves faster now, pulling another groan from the cryomancer as you jack him off, you seize your chance while he’s focused on the feeling of your hand gliding over his dick, you switch hands so your lubricated hand is no longer stroking the cryomancer, who hisses at the added drag your other hand offered. You take a deep breath and swallow audibly as you carefully nudge his legs further apart and there it is, the little pucker that you have your sights set on. Slowly, carefully you trace the outside of the hole with your slicked-up finger and before Bi-Han can react or stop you, you slowly sink the finger inside.
“Wha-what the fuck!? What are you doing qin?!” He starts, body going rigid, his ass clamping around you instinctually.
You ignore him though and fish around inside him for that little bundle of nerves that you know in spite of himself is going to make Bi-Han feel good, and you find it as you stroke it with a come hither motion.
“Huh, wha, why hnnnggghhh,” the cryomancer can’t hold back the pleased noise as you stroke his prostate, “fucking stop this is weird,” he starts to sit up.
Your hot mouth drops over his cock, swallowing him down as best as you can in a practiced motion, your finger wiggling further in his tight hole.
“Ah, fuck qin, that, that feels kind of good, do… do it again,” he pants and squeezes his eyes shut as he relaxes against the bed enjoying the feeling of your warmth encompassing his cold cock.
The noises he makes are like heaven to you as your mouth works his cock over, your tongue laving every inch of it as you suck it further into your throat. Slowly you work a second finger into the tight ring of muscle as you massage the cryomancer’s prostate, your fingers dancing across the fleshy nub.
“Ta ma de,” he groans deeply in his native tongue as he subconsciously grinds his perfect ass against your fingers, the baijiu loosening his inhibitions enough to enjoy this very rare role reversal.
You pull away from his delicious cock to echo his sentiment, “fuck,” you take in his flushed, blissed-out expression as you thrust your fingers in and out slowly, applying steady even pressure to the small organ inside the cryomancer.
Bi-Han lets out a low moan as your fingers speed up, his body starting to tremble with his impending release, “shit qin, that feels really good, keep going, please,” he practically bites his own tongue to stop himself from begging like a little bitch in heat.
Your tongue massages the underside of his shaft as your fingers keep moving in and out of the cryomancer’s tightness, you never actually thought you’d get this far, you thought maybe you’d get one finger in before he wigged out and stormed off for the night but actually getting to finger fuck your husband made your brain short circuit. You shift and rub your thighs together trying to alleviate some of the mounting pressure, seeing Bi-Han look so fucked out had you nearly cumming from the sounds he made alone. Your stomach feels tight as arousal pools in it and you don’t know how much longer you can keep yourself from making the cryomancer fuck you, you want to see him cum though, you want to taste his cold, viscous fluid filling your mouth, so you don’t stop, you can’t stop, you ignore your own desires and focus solely on his. You bob your head along his cock, forcing as much inside as possible, it burns as it stretches your throat, but the little shout Bi-Han makes is worth the discomfort. Your finger twist and screw in and out of the cryomancer’s tight confines, each press and thrust of your fingers massaging his prostate more and more.
“Qin, I’m gonna,” he gasps and lets out a choked-off cry as he tries to warn you, but you get the message, your fingers double their efforts as you pound into his prostate and you pull back until only the tip of his huge cock is left in your mouth. With a loud growling shout of pleasure, Bi-Han is cumming in your mouth.
You moan as the icy liquid splashes against your tongue the saltiness coating your mouth with the thick liquid. Your tongue swishes the cold fluid around as you swallow frantically trying not to spill a drop of the cryomancer’s cum, you can’t help it though, Bi-Han cums so much more than a mouthful as some of his release flows down your chin.
Bi-Han just moans with satisfaction as his release keeps seeping from your hot mouth, his hips still as do your fingers, “fuck me, what was that?”
“A prostate massage,” you answer, pulling off his cock with an audible pop as you swallow down more of the cryomancer’s essence. You wipe your chin off and make a show of licking your finger clean watching Bi-Han’s lust-darkened eyes, you raise an eyebrow as you look down at his still-hard cock. “Someone’s not done apparently,” you comment gesturing to his huge dick.
“Well of course not, my girl hasn’t cum yet, I still have a job to do,” he growls before pouncing on you and pinning you down. The cryomancer all but rips your soaked panties off as he rubs the velvety head of his cock against your dripping walls.
“Fuck Bi-Han, please, I need to cum so bad, seeing you like that has me so turned on, you were so hot,” you babble as his dick slowly opens you up as his cock sinks into your tight pussy. You cry out loudly at the feeling of the cryomancer rearranging your insides to make room for his massive cock, it feels so good, the stretch and slight burn as he buries his cock inside you.
“Mmm fuck qin, you were made just for me weren’t you? You’re always so pretty and so wet for me, such a good little slut,” he growls possessively as he holds himself inside you balls deep letting you get used to his huge cock.
“Ahhh, Bi-Han please,” you whimper as he starts to move, the pressure in your stomach teetering on unbearable, you knew your little pregame session sucking his cock and finger fucking the cryomancer had turned you on, but you didn’t realize how much it had turned you on. One thrust from the cryomancer and you were practically seeing stars, you shout and throw your arms around him tangling your fingers in his loose hair.
“Hold on tight qin, I don’t feel like taking things slow tonight,” the cryomancer shoots you a smirk and all you can do is moan in response.
You cry out his name over and over as he begins to piston in and out of your tight, wet hole, everything feels too much all at once but perfect all at the same time. Each stroke of his cock drives deeper and deeper into your welcoming pussy as the fat head of his cock assaults your sweet spot. You’re dizzy and lightheaded within minutes and it had nothing to do with the alcohol you consumed, it was all from the cryomancer’s actions, the way his cock moved in and out of your body, the way his weight bore down on you, the way he claimed you as his own.
“Such a good little slut, whining and whimpering so prettily for me, you just love getting stuffed with my big cock don’t you? It’s what you were made for, taking my cock and only my cock, no one else gets to touch you qin, you’re mine,” the cryomancer growls, possession dripping from his words as his grip moves from your hips to press the undersides of your thighs towards your stomach.
“Only you Bi-Han, I’m only yours,” you cry out as the pressure becomes unbearable and heat pools in your stomach despite your body being chilled from the inside out. You cling to the cryomancer, trying to ground yourself but only wind up pulling his hair causing Bi-Han to let out a low, warning growl.
“Only I get to touch you, only I get to fuck you and only I get to paint that pretty little pussy white with my cum, but you’re such a little slut you love every minute of it don’t you,” Bi-Han continues, his words edging you closer and closer to your peak as his cock rams into your cervix over and over causing your entire body to tremble and shake in his grasp.
“Only you Bi-Han, oh fuck only you!” You cry out as your toes curl and the pressure bursts, you cry out his name shrilly as your head thrashes back and forth as your tongue lolls to the side as you cum hard around Bi-Han’s perfect cock. Stars burst before your eyes and pleasure floods your body as you shutter and heave below Bi-Han’s flawless, thrusting body.
Bi-Han groans deeply as he presses your thighs almost flush to your stomach, plowing in and out of your body with little regard for how oversensitive you were in this state, he was only concerned with his own orgasm. He keeps fucking you hard, pounding your cervix open with each thrust as he chases his high, loving the way you cry and tremble for him, “what a good little slut, such a good girl for me, I’ve going to fill you up with my cum now,” he grunts out in between gritted teeth as his hips start to falter and lose their rhythm. “Oh fuck, that’s it, that’s my good slut,” he lets out a low bellow as he stills inside you.
You cry and shake as the cryomancer’s final onslaught brings you to your peak once more, hot fat tears drip down your cheeks as he pushes you past reason. The sensation of Bi-Han’s cold viscous cum painting your walls white does you in, with a weak little sob of his name, you’re tumbling over the edge hurtling towards darkness as your orgasm consumes you.
Neither of you move for a while, you couldn’t even if you wanted as you’re trapped under the weight of the cryomancer as you finally regain consciousness. You whimper softly, unable to find your voice yet as you shiver with cold brought on by the cryomancer being buried deep inside you still.
Reluctantly the cryomancer finally rolls off you to the side of the bed, “fuck qin, that was, well that was something else alright.”
“That was so good,” you whisper, barely able to form coherent thoughts yet, “your cock is too good, I still feel drunk, but I don’t think it’s the liquor anymore,” you giggle softly as you grab one of the fur comforters from the bottom of the bed and roll up in it before slotting yourself next to Bi-Han, laying your head against his rock hard pecs.
“We should, uh maybe try that again sometime,” Bi-Han admits, his cheeks colored with a rosy shade of pink as he looks away not wanting to make eye contact.
“Anytime you want Polar Bear, anytime you want,” you agree and smile before slipping into a very deep and very restful sleep.
160 notes · View notes
supernaturalgirl20 · 3 years
Note
hi baby! if you’re taking requests might i indulge you in the scenario of Din where he captures you, the bounty, and you try to persuade him to let you be his “mechanic” instead, but like y’all wind up fucking 🙈🙈
You can choose how everything goes and add anything else you’d like love 💜💜
Thank you my dear for this delicious ask 🥰 I had loads of fun writing this 😏
Tumblr media
Mechanic
Pairings: Din Djarin x reader
Warnings: Smut 18+, p in v smut, blowjob, Lil bit of dark!Din, cursing.
A/N: this is pure filth and I’m not sorry 😏 blame @anaaaispunk for fuelling the fire 😉
Sitting in the cantina, you scan your surroundings for immediate threats. Realising your ok, for now at least, you let out a sigh of relief. You’d lost count of the number of weeks you’ve been on the run, and for what, killing some ex empire general or something. You did them a favour really, pity no one else saw it that way. So here you are on another planet hiding. God I hope this isn’t going to be my life. It’s exhausting. You make your way to the bar and order another spotcha, the door to the cantina opens, nothing note worthy except the whole place goes dead quiet. Intrigued, you look to see what’s grabbed everyone’s attention. It’s like you’ve seen a ghost, except it’s not a ghost, it’s a man covered in a silver armour. Fuck! They sent a fucking mandalorian, they must be desperate now. You try to act normal, grab your drink and sit back at your table. Shivers run down your spine as he walks past. Closing your eyes, you wait, wait for him to point a blaster at your head, but it doesn’t come. Opening your eyes slowly, you see he walked right past you to another booth. He doesn’t even look in your direction. Maybe he’s not here for me after all. I’m just being paranoid.
***
It’s late when you finally leave the cantina, walking slowly back to the inn. There’s a tiredness in your bones and you can’t wait to lie in bed and finally get some sleep. Entering your room you switch on the light. When the room becomes illuminated you let outa scream.
“Jesus, what the fuck Mando, you scared the shit out of me. How did you know this was my room? Actually how did you get here before me, when I left you were still there sitting, stiff as a board.” You snigger at that.
“Are you done?”
“Oh lighten up, Tin can.”
You both just stare at each other, daring the other to make the first move. He’s on his feet and has you pinned to the door quicker than lightning.
“Not so smart now, are you?”
“Hhmm, I like where this is going, Mando, how did you know I like it rough?” You have a sly smirk and you quit laughing your eyebrow at him. You can hear him let out a sigh.
“We’ve been doing this for too long, you’ve had your fun, enough is enough. Time to bring you in.”
He lets go of you and stands back slightly.
“Get your things, your coming with me.”
He can see your shoulders drop a little, “fine you win.”
He’s stunned. Eyes wide in shock that you haven’t resisted harder. He’d expected you to. Silently hoped you would. Not that you could see, his face hidden behind the helmet.
“Do I have to cuff you? Or will you behave?”
“I promise I won’t run.” Pushing you in front of him, “walk.”
***
Walking towards the crest you ask Mando if you can freshen up. Pointing you in the direction of the fresher, he makes his way to the cockpit setting the coordinates. He doesn’t feel right about this, bringing you in. As far as he’s concerned you did the galaxy a favour. One less imp to deal with. Your worth a lot of credits though and bounties have been slow lately, the ship needs some repairs. He’s lost in his own head when you make your way towards him.
You slipped into something more “revealing” , a dress you’d picked up on tattooine. You put your hand on his pauldron and he looks up at you through his visor.
“Mando, do you really have to bring me in? I mean I’m a nobody, you could pretend I got away?” He is scowling at you under the helmet. “Ok I know, I wouldn’t get away from you, not believable. You killed me then?”. If you could see his face you would see the awe in his eyes. It’s like you can read his mind. You slide into his lap and straddle him. He doesn’t move, doesn’t touch you. You adjust yourself so your right over his hardening member. You swear he lets out a growl. Leaning into him you whisper beside where you think his ears are.
“You know, you could keep me….here..with you. I work as your mechanic, you need one right?”
“Do you even know anything about ships?”
“Eh..well no, but I’m a fast learner.”
“No.”
You slowly grind your hips over his cock. He grips the seat a little tighter, smiling to yourself you let out a low moan. He’s completely hard now, you can feel him at your core. Then an idea strikes. Biting your lip you lean into him again.
“I’m sure you could think of something for me to do. You know…like you!” His hand grips you hard, stopping you in your movements. His voice is harsh now.
“Enough!”
You slowly lean back so your face is directly in front of his visor. You need to try something else!
Slowly, you lift up your dress, revealing your dripping cunt to him. You hear him take in a breath. Placing two fingers in your mouth you suck on them before moving them downward. Once you reach your aching core you slip them inside, moaning at the sensation.
“Oh god…yes…just that like that Mando…yes….fuck me so good.” Without warning he pulls your fingers out, brings them to his helmet, lifts the bottom revealing his mouth. That mouth, Jesus he has a moustache. He sucks them clean before placing the helmet back down fully. Suddenly he stands, gripping your ass tightly. You wrap your legs around his waist as his walks towards the ladder. Putting you down, “go down, put these on, and wait.” He hands you his magnetised cuffs. Unable to speak you just nod in understanding.
Once you secure the cuffs, your suddenly drenched in darkness. What the? A hand grips you around the neck, pushing you towards the wall of the ship. Your arms are placed over your head and secured to the wall. “Think you can tease me do you, that you can fuck your way free, is that it?”
His voice it’s so deep, even without the modulator. Then it finally dawns on you, he’s helmet-less. His stubble is rough against your skin, sending heat straight bro your core. You try moving your hips against him, but he grips your waist tight stopping you.
“Ah ah, you’ve been a bold girl, bold girls don’t get to come.”
“Do you think you deserve to stay here with me, for me to forgo my credits on you?”
“Yes, Mando please, I’ll do anything.”
“I’m going to release your hand now, your going to be a good girl and get on your knees.”
When he releases your hands you drop straight to the ground. He pulls his pants down, grips you at the back of your head and brings you toward his cock. “Your going to take my cock in your mouth aren’t you pretty girl? Show me how badly you want to stay with me!”
He tilts his head back and groans as he feels your hot, wet mouth take him in. You run your tongue up the length of him and tease around the tip. He’s desperate for release, having you tease him all night, so he shoves his cock further into your mouth and begins fucking your face.
“That’s it pretty girl, your doing…so well….taking my cock like that.”
He comes down the back of your throat and you swallow it all. He steps back, stripping completely before he lifts you to your feet. He moves you to his cot and rips your dress off you. You let out a slight squeal as the cool air hits your bare skin.
“Can you take off the cuffs please?”
“Only if you promise not to touch?”
“I promise.”
Once he removes them you go to rub the skin on your wrists. He stops you and brings them to his lips and gently kisses around them. “Did I hurt you?”
“No it’s ok, I’ve had worse.”
“I bet you have.”
“Hands over you head, remember no touching.”
He kisses around your neck, slowly kissing his way down, over your breasts, taking a nipple in his mouth and sucking hard. You moan at the sensation of his stubble on your bare breasts. He moves down again, begins kissing your inner thighs, your a writhing mess below him. He licks a strip over your folds before shoving his tongue inside. Your body is tingling all over. There’s a heat in your core threatening to combust. Hey sucks on your clit before pumping two fingers inside you. He takes you over the edge and…pulls away.
“No! Why did you stop. Please please I need you Mando. Fuck me.”
He hovers over you and kisses you gently on the lips.
“Din.”
“Hmm what?”
“My name….it’s Din. I want you to know what to call me when you come.”
“Din, it suits you. Now fuck me.”
He lines himself up and fills you completely with one thrust.
“Fuck….so tight….take me…so well.”
He grabs your leg and wraps it around his hip, giving him a better angle. His thrusts are hard and fast and you come screaming his name.
“Fuck, Din….yes.”
You move your hands down to gently hold his face and he freezes. You forgot yourself, caught up in the moment, forgetting he asked for you not to touch him. You reckon it’s something to do with his creed. Worried he will pull away from you, you go to pull your hands away.
“I’m sorry, no touching.”
He kisses you gently on the lips. Grabbing your hand in his own, he slowly brings it back to his face. He closes his eyes at the feeling of you there. Something he hasn’t felt since he was a child. “It’s ok.”
He kisses you again before thrusting into you again. He’s slower this time and you feel all of him now, every ridge, every vein, it’s so intimate even though you can’t see him. Your coming hard again in no time, cunt clenching him tight as he spills inside you. He rolls off you and pulls you into his side.
“So does this mean I can stay?!”
“I suppose. I might need more convincing.”
You laugh as you straddle him, “you better buckle up so, your in for a long night.”
Tagging:
Everything: @lunaserenade @day-off-inkyoto @librariantothejedi @seasonschange-butpeopledont @elinedjarin @maievdenoir @pascal-rascal424 @kirsteng42 @thorins-queen-of-erebor @dihra-vesa @loserrlauraa @asta-lily @absurdthirst @ikinmahlen @javierpinme
Din Djarin: @agingerindenial @covidihateu
153 notes · View notes
kylorengarbagedump · 3 years
Text
Defy Your Authority: Chapter 2
Read on AO3. Part 1 here. Part 3 here.
Summary: So, like, what's the big deal, buddy?
Words: 3800
Warnings: None. Yet.
Characters: Kylo Ren x Reader
A/N: Hello!! Firstly, thank you so much to @bastila-ren​ and @elmidol​ for listening to me talk so much about this fic, for reading the first two chapters, and helping me with their generous feedback.
Secondly, I want to thank all of you for your EXTREMELY generous response to this fic. I admit I was very nervous to post this, and still am very nervous to write it, but I can't explain how helpful it is to know that people still enjoy the story and want to read more. It's definitely a story I want to write!
Y’all have truly been too kind to me. I don't have a posting schedule, just yet--I'm hoping every week or every other week. :) Love y'all SOOOOO MUCH.
Like the smarmy bastard he was, Hux fought off a smirk. But Allegiant General Pryde gazed at you with what some might refer to as sheer, indignant horror.
Kylo Ren stopped feet from the throne, his gaze wandering your grungy hair, dirtied uniform, the cell filth on your face.
“Hm,” he said. “That’s one way to greet your Supreme Leader.”
Embers tickled your cheeks. Your Supreme Leader.
You looked at the two other men. What was on your tongue: Would you prefer I get on my knees instead?
What you ended up saying: “Uh, sorry. Sir.”
“I believe the Supreme Leader requires an apology a little more comprehensive than uh, sorry.”  Pryde stepped forward, as if to explain. “Sir, this woman was brought aboard by General Hux without prior approval.”
Kylo glanced between the older men, stare drifting to you, the darkness in his eyes reviving an animal within you that had been placed on life support. 
“Yes,” he replied. “I don’t recall providing authorization for this.”
“Supreme Leader,” Hux said, “we both know your TIE has been out of commission for several cycles. I thought it prudent to--”
“You thought it prudent to ask a manager of a remote outpost to come aboard the flagship of the First Order. I assume that’s what you’re about to say.” Pryde paused, waiting for Hux’s contrition--but none came. He turned to Kylo. “Sir, again, please forgive me. Had I known he’d be bringing aboard a rim-dweller who would defy your authority, I would’ve denied his request, entirely.”
“Defiance.” Kylo’s gaze drilled you. Much like you had dreamt of something else of his drilling you. “I hadn’t noticed.”
Pryde balked. “Well, I hardly find it appropriate to address the Supreme Leader of the First Order as dude, for starters.” He spat the word onto the floor like poison. “Really, General, you and her both should be begging for his pardon.”
You swallowed, attention on Kylo, trying to hide your glee. “Please, please forgive me,” you murmured. “Supreme Leader.”
Hux cleared his throat. “My apologies as well, sir.”
“Hm.” If he’d understood your tease, he didn’t acknowledge it. You frowned. Kylo looked to the cloaked mercenaries behind you. “Escort her back to Orinda.”
Disbelief smacked you across the face. “I’m sorry, what?”
Sputtering, Hux stepped forward. “Supreme Leader--”
“You don’t belong on this vessel,” Kylo said, glimpsing you, then the cloaked figures again. “Report is postponed. Prepare the Buzzard for departure.” 
Like droids, they activated and brushed past you, stalking toward the turbolift. The Supreme Dickhead gazed at you expectantly.
“They’re not patient.”
You shook your head, crossing your arms. “If you think I’m leaving--”
“Supreme Leader,” Hux said again. For once, you felt like both of you were stuck in the same flabbergasted pod. “Repairing your fighter has already wasted the time of numerous engineers, we don’t need to add--”
“Perhaps every engineer aboard deserves to have their time equally wasted, General.”
Hux’s jaw tensed. “If you wish, sir,” he replied. “But we could resolve the issue now.”
“We won’t.”
For whatever reason, Kylo Ren seemed dedicated to preventing you from working on this ship, as if he didn’t know your skill level. As if he believed other engineers deserved a shot at it over you. Ignoring the furious trembling of your fingers, you dug them into your sleeves. 
“What, you don’t think I’m capable?” you asked, frowning.
Pryde sighed. “Supreme Leader, the Council--”
Kylo pivoted to you. “No.” There was no hint of mockery or deception in his tone. “You’re capable.”
You swallowed, shrugged your shoulder. Tried not to sound hurt. “Then why won’t you let me try?”
Hazel eyes lingered, held you in silence for deafening seconds. There was something very, very tired inside of them. 
“Sir,” Pryde said, “as much as I love the rousing debate over whether or not this rimrat should be deemed worthy of working on your starfighter, the Supreme Council meeting is in minutes.” He turned to you. “I believe you’ve been directed to leave.”
You furrowed your brow, but miraculously managed to say nothing. The muscle under Kylo’s nose twitched. 
“You’ll get two hours.” He didn’t seem excited about the idea. “After that, you will return to Orinda.”
“Yeah, sure. Whatever,” you sighed. “Sir.”
A huff escaped him. “The Supreme Council meeting.” He turned, strode to the exit. “Come.”
Pryde frowned. “Sir, shouldn’t Hux return her to the hangar?”
“No.” Kylo’s voice ricocheted in the chamber. “She’s coming.”
Something like joy sparkled in your heart. Hux jutted out his chin, smirking at Pryde, who frowned and looked to you. You resisted the urge to stick your tongue out at him. There was a puzzle in his mind regarding your identity, a puzzle he was struggling to put together without the missing pieces. You weren’t interested in offering them. 
The three of you followed Kylo into the turbolift. Out of irritation, you stood as far away from him as possible. Awkward quiet settled in the air, and you grit your teeth, ignoring the sting of humiliation at your cheeks. Sure, it was nice he was inviting you to his little meeting, but that hardly compensated for the fact that it had been four entire months since you’d seen him and he was intent on booting you without so much as a parting fuck. 
Not that you wanted to fuck him after that stunt. 
Mostly.
The lift descended. Kylo hadn’t even looked at you, despite your best attempts at petty distancing. Hundreds of words hung on your tongue, and so few of them were appropriate for the ears of Hux and Pryde. Luckily for you, you could think them, instead.
Jackass.
The blast door slid open, and Kylo exited without response, the two generals on his heels. You lagged behind them, glare boring into the broad-shouldered bastard with the flowing cape.
Can’t believe this asshole was here the entire time, knowing everything, with all of the power in the galaxy, just doing bantha-shit about it.
Stormtroopers passed in formation, nodding in deference to the men in front of you as you turned a corner. The clomping of boots was the only sound for meters.
Leaving you for four months, horny as hell, lonely as hell, all while he was here doing what? Jerking off? As if he hadn’t begged you to stay. Please.
At the end of the hall, a set of blast doors parted, and you trailed the group inside, greeted by a massive, jet-black table with a hologram projector buried in the center. The occupants of about a dozen chairs turned, their eyes stuck to you, assessing you. Kylo crossed to the head of the table, Hux and Pryde taking spaces near him. The only open seats were at the back, relegated for only the most irrelevant attendees. You slunk over to one, sinking into it.
Apparently you’re not relevant to anyone in this room, anyway.
“Who’s this?” A balding officer of high-rank stared at you. “Supreme Leader?”
Pryde leaned forward. “She’s the Chief--”
“Who she is,” Kylo drawled, “is none of your concern.” 
Blood heated your face. The room rumbled with uncertainty, but only for seconds. 
“Sir,” said an older woman with slick blonde hair, “Multiple locations on Kamino refused entry to officers seeking out junior recruits. Our entry-level ranks are suffering. Requesting additional--”
Kylo glanced at her. “Yes.”
She nodded. “Thank you, sir.”
“Supreme Leader,” said an older, white-haired man. “Surveillance indicates that a fuel depot located in the Inner Rim has received communications from Resistance starships.”
“Have they responded?”
“Yes, sir.”
“Eliminate them.”
“Yes, sir.”
Another, dark-skinned woman inched to the edge of her seat. “Supreme Leader, ground troops found no evidence of Resistance sympathizers on the most recent patrol of Aeos Prime.”
“And the infrastructure.”
“Seems salvageable, sir.”
Kylo blinked, as if the answer hadn’t even mattered. “Move to the next outpost in the system.”
“Of course, Supreme Leader.”
Yet another man cleared his throat. “Supreme Leader, if I may…”
Swallowing, you stared into the gleaming tabletop, tracing the rivets of white light bordering the projector. Voices rose, offering status updates and seeking approval of the man at the head of the room. Obviously, there was nothing attractive about how competent and powerful Kylo Ren appeared in this setting. And this definitely did not tingle pride in your belly watching every single person in this room vie for his favor, knowing that out of all of them, the one he’d fucked was you.
Then again, maybe that was the very crux of the issue. His time and attention was desired and demanded and split between thousands--he directed and delegated an entire, galaxy-wide government. He commanded armies. Strategized operations. Balanced every need, tangible and intangible, with only two hands.
You spent your days bathing in ion dust.
The Allegiant Asshole cleared his throat, breaking you from your pity party. “General Hux,” he said, “didn’t you have your pet project to present?”
All eyes turned to Hux, his face dull with irritation. Lips pursing, he straightened his spine, fingers whizzing over the data screen at his seat. One swipe, a quick field entry, and the projector hummed to life, shooting a blue hologram of a TIE fighter above the table. It flickered, rotating like a display.
“The First Order has regularly demonstrated deficient performance during naval engagements, despite our superior numbers and resources,” Hux said. “After gathering data, we discovered that during our most recent missions, the TIE fighter is regularly out-piloted by Resistance sympathizers.” He tapped the screen, and the hologram split into a cross-section. “Thorough research indicates the TIE model is obsolete.”
The room crackled with whispers, officers turning to each other and looking to Hux, their faces twisted in disbelief. Kylo Ren sat, saying nothing, trained on the display. 
Sighing, you gazed at your hands and cleaned your nails. To you, this was obvious. Of course the basic TIE models--the TIE/fo models--were obsolete. The ships were highly inflexible, carried little firepower for their unwieldy construction, and had no hyperdrive application. In comparison to the model used by the Special Forces, the TIE/fo was practically useless. 
It was less obvious why these high-ranking strangers seemed unable to handle the truth.
“General,” said a dark-skinned man. “Are you proposing we abandon the TIE corps?”
Hux pressed the screen again, and it zoomed in on an exposed ion engine. “At the very least, the most basic TIE corps is woefully unequipped in comparison to Resistance fighters.”
“That’s ridiculous,” he replied, “our pilots are extensively trained.”
Pryde sneered. “Admiral Griss is correct,” he said. “Our elite troops don’t demonstrate any issue with crushing Resistance burrows.”
“Elite troops are never the ones defending a new occupation.” Hux gestured to the engine blueprint. “We sacrifice our progress because of this antiquated construction.”
“And what’s so antiquated about it?” Pryde sneered. “The construction is based on the Imperial TIE. These ships were a well-known symbol of naval superiority.”
“Updated for modern needs,” added Griss. 
Hux’s voice rose a decibel. “Not modern enough, given how frequently a single X-wing will decimate an entire unit.”
You wanted to groan. Against your will, you had to admit Hux was right. Orinda regularly saw straggling, crippled TIEs smash into the valley outside the hangar in attempts to land for repair. Mirna had pulled more pilots than you could count out of blazing wreckage.
“Do you suggest we change the basic TIE unit, then?” Griss asked.
“Perhaps,” Hux replied, “or we move to a different construction entirely.”
The other officers chuckled, murmurs rippling through the ranks again. 
“Supreme Leader,” Pryde said, “what he’s suggesting is absurd. Sienar-Jaemus manufactures perfectly appropriate and functional fighters at an affordable price to the First Order. It’s been done this way since the Empire.”
Rolling your eyes, you sat back in your chair. For a General of a government allegedly interested in innovation and progress, Pryde seemed to love sucking the Empire’s dick. The fact that they were refusing to even entertain Hux’s idea was, well…
“Perhaps we should place a double order for the basic fighters, sir,” Pryde continued. “To demonstrate their capability.”
You snorted. “Now that’s absurd.”
Every voice in the room died. Leather squelched, and you glanced up from your nails in time to see a dozen bodies shifting in their seats to turn and look at you. Inwardly, you cursed--you hadn’t had to practice volume control in months. 
At the head of the table, Kylo Ren stared. His expression, even to you, was indiscernible. But even if he was mad, you wouldn’t have cared. Not as long as he still intended on kicking you off the Steadfast without another word.
Shrugging, you said, “General Hux is right. The original TIE model is flawed. They lose out one-on-one almost every time.” Kylo still said nothing, the rest of the room too confused to interrupt you. “I guarantee there’s more credits spent on replacement models than it would cost to invest in something more versatile.”
Griss’s nose wrinkled, and he looked between you and Kylo. “I…” When Kylo offered no response, Griss settled on you. “I’m not sure what brought you here, ah… Lieutenant, but regardless of your purpose, you’re surrounded by superiors of the First Order. Don’t speak out of turn.”
“Right,” you said, “I do apologize, sir.  But you have to admit that this all is a little absurd. I see busted up basic TIEs all the time. They’re a failure.”
“Yes,” he replied, “and you are?”
“Chief of Operations on Orinda.”
“An outpost?” The room echoed with laughter, and you bristled. Griss gestured to you. “Supreme Leader, please, why is this woman here?”
Pryde nodded. “I know you have your reasons, sir, but surely she doesn’t belong in this room.”
“Maybe this woman knows what she’s talking about,” you mumbled.
“Excuse me?” Griss whipped around, leering at you. “Mind repeating yourself, Lieutenant?”
Volume control. Really needed to get better with that. 
Gathering a breath, you swallowed your ire. You could not spend all two hours on the Steadfast immediately making enemies with the military leaders of the First Order. Given Kylo’s state, you doubted he’d encourage your attitude. 
“My apologies,” you said, bowing your head, “I’m just. Nervous. Being on this ship for the first time.”
“Perhaps you’ve spent too much time on Orinda,” said Griss. “You’ve forgotten the hierarchy.”
“She needs re-education,” said the balding man.
The dark-skinned woman huffed. “Or a demotion.”
“Some form of discipline, surely.”
“Yes,” said Pryde with a glare. “Perhaps that should be arranged.”
Your heart skipped.
“Enough.”
Every person in the room spun, attention on Kylo Ren.
He was still inscrutable. Still gazing directly at you. 
A shiver spilled over your spine. Like instinct, your thighs pressed together. 
“General Hux,” he said. “Prepare a plan for the replacement of the basic TIE model.” A pause. No one spoke a word. “Dismissed.”
You remained in your seat as the other officers rose, their lips sealed as they filed out of the room. Hux scowled at you--ungrateful prick--and acknowledged Kylo’s order before leaving. Pryde scrutinized you, his focus flipping between you and his Supreme Leader as he stood from the table. 
“It’s time to leave, Lieutenant,” he said.
“I need a moment,” you replied, glancing at him. “Sir.”
Pryde turned to Kylo. “Sir?”
Kylo’s face was blank. “Dismissed, General.”
Whatever Pryde was thinking, he didn’t say. He offered deference to the Supreme Leader before strutting out, the blast door shutting behind him.
The moment it closed, the room thickened with heat, like stars vaporized the air. Sweat beaded your hairline, your tongue drying to paper. Every movement you thought to make was paused, paralyzed by confusion. Had it been four months ago, you’d be getting railed on top of the table or in his chair, you were sure of it. But Kylo seemed almost indifferent now. It neutered every response that came to mind.
Here you were, alone with Kylo Ren for the first time since you’d left. He was only meters away from you. And you had absolutely no idea what to do.
“Your time is limited, Lieutenant.”
A reminder he wanted you gone. You shook your head, chewing the inside of your lip. 
“The silencer is free to be inspected.”
Indignance tightened your chest. Your face was on fire.
“Or perhaps,” Kylo said, “you’d rather travel directly to Orinda.”
You whirled on him. “So you knew I was on Orinda the entire time?” Your frustration was unfettered. “You knew and just didn’t do anything about it? For four months?”
His stare didn’t yield. “Yes.”
“Yes?” you said. “That’s it? That’s all you have to say for yourself? How do you expect me to respond to that?” More heat gripped your neck. He was still. “Why do you want me gone so badly? You act like you don’t even want me around.”
“I don’t.”
The words were switchblades to your chest. You shook your head, gulped your pain.
“Uh. Okay. Wow.” Sighing, you continued, “But don’t you--I mean. You pleaded with me to stay.”
He said nothing.
“You... I know how you feel. You can’t hide that from me. Do you…” Your throat was tight. “Did something change?”
For four months, you had wondered what had been going on in Kylo Ren’s mind. Seeing him draped in the responsibility of the Supreme Leader of the First Order, hesitation crept into your gut. Within his gaze, perhaps only apparent to you, there was a black, terrible emptiness, like shadows reined in by his rage. Exhaustion hung in dark circles under his eyes and at his cheeks. His presence was as breathtaking as it ever had been, only haunted with the weight of the galaxy. 
For four months, you had wondered. You didn’t know, now, if you wanted the answer.
“You don’t belong here.” Kylo paused, then stood, moving toward the door. “Your presence is not warranted.”
“Warranted? That’s not what this is about.” You shot to your feet, intercepting his path. “You knew where I was, and you never once came to me! You left me there! Alone!” He side-stepped you, and you followed him, keeping your eyes chained to his. “Didn’t you miss me?” you asked. “Didn’t you think about me?”
He stalled. Exhaling through his nose, he spoke through his teeth. “Yes.”
“Then why didn’t you find me?” you said. “You promised!” 
Kylo stood, trapped in your stare, his fingers furling into fists.
“I know how you feel about me.” You advanced on him. “I know it.” 
You were so near you could feel his breath, count the individual strands of his hair, bask in the warmth of his body. A short inhale, and memory slammed you like gravity--the scent of his skin, his palms gripping your waist, his lips brushing your ear. The ache in your hands at night when they were not full of him, the bedtime yearning in your limbs when they were not wound around his. You had known him, known him, as if his blood ran in your veins.  
This was the closest you’d been to Kylo Ren in weeks upon weeks. Somehow, you only felt further away.
“Why?” you asked. “Why didn’t you find me?” After all of it, he only stared. It lit you with rage, and you bumped your chest with his. “Say something!”
The muscle in his jaw tightened. His shoulders rolled. But he was silent. 
A peal of bitter laughter escaped you. Whatever issues he had didn’t mater. You deserved more than what he was offering.
“Wow. Okay.” You shrugged, stepping back. “I don’t know who I was thinking about for these past four months, but it definitely wasn’t you.” Shaking your head, you turned toward the door. “Whatever, dude. Fuck you.”
You took a single step, and Kylo snatched your wrist, whipped you against his body. 
“You say that,” he breathed, “as if you haven’t been thinking about getting fucked since you arrived.”
Oxygen fled your lungs. Every blood cell in your body piled onto your cheeks and between your legs. In seconds, you were a throbbing, pent-up, swell of lust. 
You swallowed. “Oh, please,” you muttered. “You can’t distract me that easily. You know I need answers.”
“Hm.” Kylo scanned your figure. “So you say.”
“You’re such an asshole.” You tried to peel your wrist free. “Why didn’t you do this weeks ago, huh?”
His face darkened, his hold on you tightened. 
“You ask questions that have no answers.”
“Ugh. Get off.” Grunting, you shouldered him, body buffeting his like a flaccid wave. It would’ve been arousing, his strength, how utterly solid he was, if he wasn’t making you miserable in this moment. “You’re so full of it, man. Let me go. I’ll go repair your dumbass ship and you can send me back to Orinda, like you so clearly want.”
“You presume to understand what I want.” His voice was severe, a dull blade. “You will not stay here.” The ghost of a smirk fled his face. “But you won’t escape punishment when you’re gone.”
You shuddered, stuck out your chin. “Your punishments don’t scare me.”
Kylo growled. “Really.” A leather palm cupped the back of your neck, tugged you close. “Such confidence.”
You couldn’t help it. A tiny, excited whimper left you. Kylo shifted, his hand squeezed--
The projector in the table beeped. An incoming transmission. The both of you froze, staring at the blinking request on the interface.  You coughed, patted his chest as a signal to answer it. The knot in his throat bobbed, and he released you, crossing to the console and accepting the message.
Hux appeared in hologram form. “Supreme Leader,” he said, voice even more snivelly through the broadcast. “We received a distress signal from Orinda. Multiple Resistance fighters have been detected on radar. Requests for response from the officers stationed there have gone unanswered.”
The joints in your body locked. Your mouth opened, but nothing came out.
“Permission to dispatch TIE units, sir,” Hux said.
Kylo was still. “Dispatch.”
“Yes, sir.”
The hologram winked out. Before you could process, your feet were moving you toward the door.
“I gotta go.” Your pulse pounded in your temple. The entirety of your crew was down there. By themselves. “I gotta go there. I gotta get there. I’m sorry, I know I said I would repair your ship but--”
“Stop.” 
“--it’s probably for the best anyway, I just gotta find some way there, I--”
He spoke your name like a command. You stopped. Stared into his tired, empty eyes. 
His chest fell in a small sigh. “We’ll take the Buzzard,” he said. “Come.”
Kylo Ren tread past you, through the blast doors, into the hallway. The tatters of your bewildered heart weren’t a priority right now. You followed him--your Supreme Leader.
191 notes · View notes
Text
Rules
Tumblr media
Anons are coming for me with the spicy Boba prompts. Boba Fett x fem!reader Rating: E (18+) Warnings: Boba. Explicit sexual content, dom/sub relationship, masturbation, spanking, degradation (use of slut), dirty talk, unprotected p in v sex. It’s just more filth y’all.  (Per usual let me know if I missed anything or if there is something you want to see warned for/tagged) (36) “Don’t touch me. Just watch.”
Boba did not leave you alone all that often. If he could send someone else away to deal with business, he did. If he absolutely had to travel off-world, he often brought you along and made a small vacation out of it, stopping off at some new planet you’d never been to so you could explore together before heading back home to Tatooine. This time however had been serious enough that he left you back at the palace with Fennec to manage things in his stead. It was not supposed to be long, a week at the most, a bearable separation. As much as you craved his presence and attention you told yourself you would be alright until he returned to you. He’d gone out of his way to fuck you senseless before he’d left, leaving you sated and sore but ultimately alone in your shared bed. It seemed to have done the trick, the first few days you were content with the lingering reminders of him on your skin, but as the days drug on you found the ache deep in your belly growing. You needed something to soothe the craving, but Boba was nowhere to be found.
As you found yourself alone in your bed at the end of the week you began to weigh the risks. Boba had a standing rule, you were not allowed to touch yourself without his express permission. “I’m the only one allowed to play with this pussy,” he’d said. When he was around the rule never lead to any issues. He was always happy to indulge you when you found yourself needy and wanting. Now however, you found yourself debating breaking one of Boba’s rules for the first time. You did not often push Boba on such things, you rather enjoyed his praise and rewards over his punishments, but in that moment, all you could think of was how much you needed him and all you had were your fingers.
As your fingers slip beneath your sleep shorts you tell yourself he’ll never have to know, there would be no way to tell after all. Maybe you would be extra good for him when he got back too, just to even things out. That sounds like a perfect plan as you sink one finger, then two into your aching pussy. With a sigh you lean back into the mountain of pillows and let the building pleasure wash over you.
“Look at this,” Boba’s voice is dark as it startles you out of your bliss, “seems you’ve forgotten the rules while I was gone, little one.”
Wide-eyed you freeze, caught in the gaze of his dark visor. “Boba, I-”
Shaking his head, he stalks over to the end of the bed. “No excuses. You broke the rules, and you know what that means.”
Oh you had fucked up.
“Strip,” he orders before turning away to shed his armor.
You jump out of bed, quick to obey. Maybe if you are good and take the punishment, he’ll have some mercy on you. It takes just moments to have your pajamas and underwear on the floor. You quietly wait for Boba to finish and give you further instructions.
He strips down to his black underclothes, carefully storing his armor and helmet away. Even in the low light you can see how dark his eyes are when he finally turns back to you. He drinks in your bare form, evidence of your disobedience shining between you legs. You shift under his gaze, nervous anticipation building for what’s to come.
He’s wordless as he takes a seat on the edge of the bed, knees spread out. Patting his thigh, a small grin breaks across his face, “ass up, princess.”
You’re silent as you lay yourself across his lap, bottom lip held tight between your teeth. It had been quite some time since Boba had used this as punishment. He runs one hand over the soft flesh of your ass and squeezes, drawing a startled squeak from you.
“You know why you’re being punished, little one?”
“Yes.”
“Why?” he prods.
“I touched myself without permission.”
He squeezes again, “that’s right. I’d say that earned you fifteen. You are going to count the for me. If you stop, we start over. Understood?”
“I understand.”
“Good,” he grins, running his hand over you one more time before he brings the flat of his palm down to the sensitive skin.
The spank stings but the pain in brief as he rubs at the spot moments after. Boba knows exactly how much you can take. Even when he’s punishing you, he’s beyond considerate.
“One.”
The second hit comes down on the other globe of your ass.
“Two.”
The next returns to the first spot, leaving a tingling heat behind, even after Boba soothes the skin.
“Three.”
The pattern continues, each sharp slap alternating across your ass as the heat blooms across your skin. It’s not long before you notice Boba’s own arousal poking into your side. You try to focus on that, hoping it means he’ll offer you some sense of relief before the night is over, instead of thinking about the growing stinging of your skin.
“Look at that, been such a good girl, taking your punishment so well,” his voice swells with pride as he massages your warm skin with both hands, “just one more, little one.”
You nod against his thigh, bracing for the last swat. It’s light, most likely a reward for behaving and not losing count.
“F-fifteen,” you whimper, trying to ignore the heat that has bloomed between your thighs at Boba’s touch.
“So, what did we learn, little one?” he asks, helping you back onto shaky legs.
“Not to touch myself without your permission.”
“Good. I really don’t want to have to go over this again.”
“It won’t happen again, Boba,” you promise, sticking your bottom lip out in a pout for good measure.
“That’s what I like to hear,” he rumbles, running one hand over the apple of your cheek, “it’s always more fun when you’re a good girl, isn’t it?”
You nod, leaning into his gentle touch.
Boba grins, pulling his hand away. He holds it out in front of you, expectant. “Spit.”
You quickly oblige him, letting your saliva coat his palm. He quickly frees himself, bringing his now slick hand to pump his thick cock. You’re nearly drooling at the sight, Boba spread out, face smug as he pleasures himself. Kneeling between his spread legs you reach up, hoping to take over, bring him to release in apology for your disobedience. He smacks your hand away, sharp eyes glaring down at you. “Don’t touch me,” he snarls, “you just watch.”
Lowering your hands to your lap you whimper. This was crueler than any other punishment he could inflict. Sitting at his feet, needy beyond belief as he fucks his hand.
“Boba,” you cry, “I’m sorry for breaking the rules. I promise I’ll be good.”
He grunts, eyes fixed on you as he continues to jerk himself off.
“Please let me touch you Boba. Let me make it up to you!” you beg, eyes following the frantic pumping of his member.
He arches one eyebrow at you but continues to say nothing.
“Please, I need you Boba. That’s why I touched myself, because I needed you so badly. Please let me touch you!”
“Such a needy little slut, aren’t you?” he groans, pulling his hand away.
You nod, frantic, “so needy for you, Boba.”
“Well, if you want it so bad then you can work for it.” Sliding back onto the bed, he lays out on his back. “Ride it.”
You waste no time, crawling over him till your core rests over his throbbing member. “Thank you, Boba,” you smile, gently placing a quick kiss to his lips.
“Go on, earn it, little one.” He leans back, arms crossed behind his head. This was all on you.
Taking him in one hand you are quick to take him into your heat, taking him in all at once. The burning stretch is a familiar pain. A long moan bubbles in your throat as his cock fills you to the brim.
“Such a needy slut for my cock,” Boba groans as you hold tight around him, “and yet your cunt is still so tight.”
Your pussy sings with the praise as you slowly raise your hips before slamming back down to the hilt. Boba grunts, eyes trained on you as you begin to find a rhythm, riding him with all you have, chasing both of your releases. Dirty praise falls from your lover’s lips, spurring you on as your legs begin to shake.
“Fucking made for my cock, isn’t that right, little one?”
“Y-yes, Boba. Yours,” you stutter, hands planted on his chest to keep you going.
“That’s right, my little slut.”
His words tighten the coil deep in your belly. Head thrown back in pleasure you can feel the edge fast approaching. “Boba!”
“What? You want to cum, slut? Do you want to cum all over my cock?”
“Yes!” you cry out, “please Boba!”
“Then cum, little one.” He plants his feet against the bed and pushes up, slamming his hips up into yours. White hot pleasure crashes over you as you unravel around him. Boba surges up, flipping you over onto your back. He continues to roughly thrust into you, chasing his own high as you ride out your own. He curses as his hips stutter, burying himself in your heat as he fills you.
Panting, he holds you to him as he softens inside of you. Your combined mess slowly seeping out of you. He brushes your now messy hair away from your face, the softer Boba slowly returning. “You with me, mesh’la?”
You nod, not trusting your voice as the bliss slowly recedes.
Satisfied, he slowly pulls away from you, leaving you fucked out and full, spread out across the bed. He returns moments later, a warm cloth to clean up the mess you both made between your thighs. You whimper as he brushes over your sensitive folds.  
“Can you turn over for me, cyare?”
It takes a moment to gather your bearings, but you eventually manage to turn onto your stomach for him. You hiss as he runs his hands over your tender ass.
“Just some bacta, cyare,” he soothes, spreading the cool cream across your skin.
“Thank you, Boba.” You’re quick to curl up against him as he slides you both under the covers.
“No need,” he presses a kiss to the crown of your head, “get some rest. We have lots of lost time to make up for tomorrow, little one.”
107 notes · View notes
thedevildomdaily · 3 years
Text
Demonic Possessions Ch 6: The Design Diva Strikes Again!
Here's the first of TWO chapters coming to ya on my days off as promised! Thanks for being patient and the well-wishes. I'm recovering pretty well.
Note: Here's the Master List for the full story. I recommend reading my stuff on my actual Blog if you enjoy OM! official music! Thank you so much for the support. Please let me hear from you in the comment section. I wanna talk OM!
Warnings: Swearing, NSFW (I told you I'd get to it soon lol)
Lilly squirmed around in her bed. Her pink and purple curls were sticking out around her pillow that she used to smother her own face. A hand with beautiful galaxy nails, courtesy of Asmodeus, was planted in the middle of it. She moaned and groaned, not wanting to wake up. That was until she felt movement in her bed!
Her hand clutched the pillow and tossed it quickly from her face in a hurry. She immediately looked down at the foot of her bed. There was a large mass beneath her giant, fluffy comforter. There was something in her bed!
Slowly mustering all of her courage, the human eased the comforter up and open. Her eye were squinting, afraid of what she was about to see at her feet. One eye opened, then the other.
“Hello~” there was a very sensual, yet familiar voice. A set of icy blue, glowing orbs stared at Lilly before she registered the female nephilim peering at her from the darkness beneath the covers.
Yes, it was Lena! A nearly naked Lena at that: she wore a lacy black thong that was completely see-through and an oversized tank top. Because she was on all-fours, the giant opening hung low enough to reveal her full chest. She giggled devilishly and licked her lips, staring at Lilly like a predator.
“L-L-Lena!?! What are you doing!?” Lilly gasped. Her beautiful, tanned skin was now bright red as she looked at the nephilim crawling closer, between her legs.
“You, if you’d let me babe…” she smirked and crawled closer, now close enough to anchor her hands on either side of the human’s hips. She tilted her head to the side, letting her long hair fall to the side, gently touching Lilly’s leg. She awaited her answer, knowing very well how tempting she looked in this precarious position.
Lilly gulped, and parted her lips for a moment, staring at Lena in almost a trance. A nod followed, then a motion for Lena to approach her further. The nephilim crept up and over the petite human and kissed her softly.
“Good choice…” Lena purred. Lilly laughed and pulled her into a deeper kiss. Her lips tasted sweet and her skin was like the finest silk in the three realms. The human wanted to explore every inch of her body.
The nephilim wasted no time to straddle her. Lilly gasped as she watched her remove her top, revealing her beautiful large breasts; They nearly made her cry, “You’re so fucking gorgeous Lena…”
Lena giggled, “Look who’s talking...you’re fucking hot. I’ve lived for thousands of years and never seen such perfect caramel skin and those lovely violet eyes. You’re bewitching Lilly.” She pulled the human into a deeper, more sensual kiss. Her hands wandered to the small of her back, slowly lifting her shirt up and off.
Unable to wait any longer, the mortal reversed their positions, pinning Lena on her back. She was dominant by nature, and while she knew she was no match for a powerful being like the nephilim, she wanted to take control. Lena seemed very welcoming to the idea.
Lilly ran her tongue across Lena’s left nipple as she softly groped the other. Hearing the other woman moan was music to her ears. It’s been so long since she’d shared her bed with anyone; a dry spell since the exchange program began.
Just as she began to inch Lena’s thong down, Lilly began to wonder why she was thinking so intently about things other than this drop-dead gorgeous creature beneath her and what was that sound in the distance…
“WHAT THE ACTUAL FUCK IS THIS MESS?!!!!”
The human woke to those words. A fucking dream!? NOOOOOOOOO! Pouting, she looked over at her temporary roomy, waking up on her couch; fully clothed and oblivious as to what was going on.
A series of profanities filled the entire House of Lamentation. Lena knew who it was and wanted to jump out of the nearest window and run away.
Mammon gave his one knock warning and popped his head in. “Are ya guys alright? Who was that?” Awe, he came to check on them.
“That was just my darling brother discovering my room you guys are lending me...and the sound of a nephilim experiencing a heart attack I’d imagine…”
*~*~*~
Lena quickly put on a robe and followed a series of ‘motherfuckers’, ‘sons-a-bitches’, and ‘dirty rat bastards’ to the attic. Both Lilly and Mammon accompanied her, despite the many warnings she gave them. “Major Diva warning alert...just saying…”
When they arrived upstairs, the trio found a raving mad Azri, Asmo, and Satan. The demons were standing in the doorway, quietly observing the nephilim as he inspected the room. He was listing every single thing that was wrong with the room.
“Good morning, my darling big brother…” Lena grinned evilly at him. This caused a chain-reaction of giggles.
“There’s not a damn good thing about it!” Azri responded with his hands on his hips, “Why didn’t you tell me sooner that they put you in the filth and squalor like those poor ‘Flowers in the Attic children’?! These are abhorrent living conditions Azralena!”
Lena had to fight hard not to laugh or tell him it was cleaned-up compared to what it was like after Belphegor took his stuff out that first night. He’d scream and faint like a goat if she did. “It’s not that bad bro. If anyone can fix it up, it’s you!”
Azri stopped his pacing and approached his little sister. Everyone held still, afraid of his reaction. He put his hands on her petite shoulders and looked down at Lena with a severe expression, “Lena,” he paused, “I may have to actually pray to celestial realm and every angelic fiber of my body for a fucking miracle to fix this abomination…”
“Is it really so horrible?” A deep voice boomed from behind them. Apparently, Lucifer had joined the fray.
“Oooh, Lucifer’s involved now...this is gonna be good…” Asmo whispered to his brothers and Lilly. There were smiles exchanged, but nobody was brave enough to laugh at this in front of the eldest brother.
“As a matter of fact it is Lucifer,” Azriel responded, “My sister deserves better than this. Are we not guests of Lord Diavolo’s? My sister has told me about ‘how cool Leviathan’s room is with the jellyfish and mega aquarium…” he then looked over at Asmodeus, “and his room is ‘absolutely beautiful’ she says. And it has a giant bathroom that looks like Regina George’s...and you give a dust-filled, cobwebbed attic with loose boards and….ARE THOSE EYES!!!!!?”
Azriel pointed to a whole in the wall on the north side. “This is unacceptable! As the eldest brother you must take responsibility to make sure my sister is staying in comfortable living quarters during her stay!”
Lena just tried to hide her face out of embarrassment. Why was he such a diva? She of course appreciated him looking after her like this, but sometimes he was just too much. This was definitely one of those cases.
“And what do you propose I do about it? My brothers each fixed their rooms on their own. This IS the House of Lamentation, not a human world resort.” Lucifer responded dryly. He did have a point there. One that only irritated the eldest nephilim. Lena felt the need to intervene before things got ugly.
“Hey guys, let’s just take a chill pill for a moment…” she said, holding her hands up as if to surrender to this mess.
‘Chill...pill…?” Lucifer looked at the female nephilim with a weary and perplexed expression.
“Yeah. I mean, it’s a metaphor…” Lena chuckled, “Look, I never meant things to get out of hand and Azri...you shouldn’t barge into someone’s home and go off like this...apologize. Now.”
After looking down at his short, little sister, Azriel sighed, “Sorry. Lena is right. I tend to...overreact when it comes to my siblings. I am in charge of the both of them.”
“I...can understand that.” Lucifer was willing to meet him halfway. From one eldest sibling to another.
“And Luci...fer” Lena almost tried a nickname but was not brave enough to go there yet. “Uhm, please allow my brother to remodel this room. I promise he is a professional in interior design as well as fashion. He will make structural repairs that could save future incidents. It’d give him peace of mind, I’ll be cozy, and you get a new roof out of it...for free.”
Lucifer eyed her, then her brother. They were both strangers, but if he was a professional, the demon believed he could be trusted enough for the task. “Very well. The two of you can do what you see fit in this room..and the roof if necessary. You’re not to do anything with any other room without my immediate permission alone. And, of course, you’re responsible for the remodeling costs. My brothers paid for the own rooms to be remodeled into what they are now. Even Mammon.”
All eyes shot to the Avatar of Greed and he felt it immediately, “HEY! What y’all look’n at! Of course I paid for my room to look as amazing as me, The Great Mammon!”
“He says that like we could actually believe him…” Satan muttered and the others agreed with him.
“Bet it was paid for from stolen belonging or money laundering schemes…” Lilly added.
“Most definitely.” Amso agreed.
“STOP TALK’N AS IF I’M NOT HERE!!!” Mammon yelled.
Lucifer cut his conversation with Lena and Azriel short to deal with his siblings. “MAMMOOON! Quit yelling so loudly. Get downstairs and eat breakfast. Now!”
The group, sans Azriel, did head down to eat breakfast. Those missing at the scene were filled in about the construction that was going to be done to Lena’s room by her brothers. Azriel was the design genius, but it was Zak that was the brawn behind the project. He was just more sensible and refused to show up so early in the morning.
~*~*~*~
The rest of the day went by fairly quickly. In just a couple of days, the nephilim had adjusted nicely into their classes. Belmont Academy had a similar curriculum blended with human education as well. It was “hybrid education for hybrid youth” as Lena explained it. She talked Lilly into checking into it once she returned to the human realm after the exchange program.
At lunchtime, the group joined together and talked about the events that started their morning. Asmo and Mammon dramatically told everyone what happened, getting everyone laughing about it. Well everyone but the two nephilim.
“Why the fuck didn’t you stop him from showing up so early?” Lena asked Zak, pointing her fork at him.
“I told him not to. He lied, saying he wouldn’t, and took off when I hopped in the shower. For being the supposed ‘responsible one’, he’s horrible when it comes to using his design skills or cleanliness…”
Lena sighed and nodded, “The. worst.”
“You do have to hand it to him though,” Asmodeus chimed in, “Azri did stand toe-to-toe with Lucifer without batting a silvery eyelash. That’s crazy! And Lena! You got between them quickly to intervene and stopped them from bickering!”
“Well of course. The root cause is ultimately my fault. So I took responsibility for it. Besides, it was pretty stupid to begin with. Arguing over interior designing an attic. Really?” Lena laughed.
“OOOOH I GOT IT!,” An otherwise quiet Leviathan exclaimed, “Your superpower is the ability to calm even the most powerful foes, like Lucifer, down!?!”
Lena paused for a moment, then burst into laughter, her brother joining in. Even Solomon couldn't help but chuckle at the notion. “THAT’S HILARIOUS!!!” She began to choke and punched her chest to stop it. “That’d be great. And it would have probably stopped many of earth’s wars. But nope. That’s definitely not it Levi-kun!”
Her response embarrassed the third eldest demon brother. That was, until she called him Levi-kun; It brought up a whole different reason to be embarrassed.
~*~*~
The rest of the school day passed in the blink of an eye. The RAD students disbursed, with the Purgatory students wishing everyone good luck with the remodelling go on. It was code for ‘good luck not getting into another fight over it’.
On the way home, they decided to grab Hell’s Kitchen burgers to go. Of course Beel wanted to eat a dozen there first, so they divided between those playing arcade games, those ordering the food, and Belphie watching Beel eat and hopefully not go on a rampage.
“Yes! I got it!” Lena screamed. She was at the claw machine with Lilly and Leviathan.
“That’s amazing!” Lilly cheered.
Leviathan gave his signature scream of excitement and proceeded to tell the girls what character it was, and their backstory, and everything in between.
“So what I’m hearing is…this is a valuable part of a set...and that you’re collecting that set aren’t ya?” Lena asked.
“Yeah. I’m missing her and two others.” Levi admitted.
Lena grinned and handed it over to the demon. “Then you’ll get more value out of having this than I will. So you’d better take it then.”
“R-Really?” Levi asked, shocked that she would just give the figurine to him.
“Yes, really!” Lena chuckled, “I just wanted the thrill of winning. You can have the figure. I don’t know what I’m gonna have room for when Azri’s done and that clothing haul is moved in from Lilly’s room.”
“ARIGATO!!!!” Levi cheerfully thanked the nephilim and held up the figurine into the air to admire it.
Lilly lingered back, watching the two nerd-out, sighing inwardly. It was clear that Lena was getting a little attached to Leviathan. He wasn’t catching on, and it made it more adorable...and sickeningly sweet to her. Oh well, she’d have to rely on her dreams still, until she could find a hot demoness that was interested in her and not devouring her soul.
14 notes · View notes
samcrobae · 4 years
Text
Tumblr media
Nanny, Part 5
gif credit: @ada-carisi
I’m adding my second and final update for today. I most likely won’t be able to update tonight but I will be working on part 6 to have up by tomorrow night. I’m writing and posting as I have the ideas fresh in my mind otherwise I fear I will lose my drive again.
Thank you SOOOOOOO much for all of the feedback, thoughts, comments, suggestions I have gotten on this, honestly, y’all got a bitch hype as shiiiiit! I love you ! 💕
Anyway, a lil more filth to fill your Angel needs, it deff took my mind places 😈 . As always, if you’d like to be added to the tag list, let ya girl know!
——————————-
You had packed plenty of snacks, water, and Natalie’s juice for the beach. You had spent most of the day there and she was getting exhausted. She was sat on Angels lap on the beach towel drinking her water when she started fidgeting.
“What’s the matter amor, you’re getting tired huh?” He shifted her in his arms so that she was resting her head back on his chest when she just started whining. You were laid out on the towel and all she wanted was you.
She had her tiny arms outstretched towards you and continued to whine. “It’s okay princesa dsddys here.”she continued to squirm in his arms and reach for you.
“Mama! Mamaaaaaa!” She screeched. Everyone stopped and looked at Angel, then back at you, then at Natalie. You shot up and looked at Angel, a look of defeat flashed across his face and then he flashed you an apologetic look. You reached your arms out and took her.
“It’s okay, here let’s go lay down.” You glanced around Angel. “Hey do you mind just throwing all this back in the bag? I’m gonna just put her down, she’s exhausted from being out in the sun all day.”
Everyone watched as you carried her back inside. Angel was a mix of emotions. On one hand , he knew you weren’t Natalie’s mom, but that girl knew no different. You cared for her, for her dad, those around you. You were gentle and patient and kind. You loved her. She loved you. Angel also knew that you didn’t ask for the baggage of acting as someone’s mom, but at the same time if there was any possibility of you being part of Angels life in more ways than just his nanny, this is what it was.
Coco sat next to Angel. “You good hermano? That was pretty intense.”
“I don’t know man.” Angel began packing up Natalie’s stuff and headed back to the house. He walked in just as you were putting Natalie on the bed, she was out cold.
“Poor thing, she’s so tired,” you said as you placed a light sheet over her.
Angel walked up to you and pulled you in for a tight hug, burying his face in your hair, before kissing your head. You ran your hands down his back.
“I can’t pretend that just didn’t happen Y/N. I’m sorry. You know she’s little she doesn’t really know the difference. She just loves you. I mean we all do.”
“No, Angel it’s okay. Really, I know. You know, I love her too. I spend so much time with her I don’t really see her as just a kid I watch. And you know, I like you. I like you a lot. And I know that whatever we decide, if we decide to take things further, that she’s a part of your life. I’m fully aware of that.”
Angel let out the breath he had been holding. “Yeah? I mean, you sure? That’s a big deal querida.”
You looked up at him, “well yeah, I mean we would figure it out, but I’m up for it.”
He leaned down and kissed you, “come on, let’s go wash this sand off. If you behave, I might even let you have sex with me in the shower.”
Shower sex with Angel was nothing short of amazing. Careful to keep quiet since you were both in a house full of people, he had you bent over, hands against the wall as he slammed into you, occasionally reaching around to squeeze your nipples as you bit your lip in ecstasy.
After your shower, you dressed and headed downstairs. All eyes were on the both of you as your hairs were visibly wet. “Have a nice shower?” Letty asked, a smirk on her face.
Angel squinted his eyes, “aren’t you like, 12? Don’t worry about grown people business.”
“Alright hey I ordered pizzas so whose gonna get the alcohol? This has been nice but I need a drink.” Coco shouted.
Angel and EZ volunteered to go on a liquor run, Angel texting you when he left.
-“You want anything special? Wine? Truly? Anything?”
-“nope, whatever you get is fine with me.”
——————————————————
You were 3 drinks and 4 tequila shots into the night and felt good. You hadn’t been drunk around Angel before but he was loving watching you let your hair down and have fun. You had put Natalie bed earlier in the night and now you were dancing to the music Coco hooked up the speaker.
You could get used to this, the people, the vibe, the family. Angel wasn’t drunk, but he was a little buzzed, mostly just taking you in.
“So what’s the deal there kid? You guys together?” Bishop asked and took a drink of his beer.
Angel chuckled, “I don’t know boss, we haven’t figured it out yet. I like her though. I really do. “
Bishop nodded in agreement and pat Angel on the shoulder, “I know, we all know. She’s a good fit for you. Good fit with the club. You gotta make a choice to keep her in the dark or tell her everything though you know that. That might scare her.”
Angel nodded his head, “yeah man. I know.”
Just then you made your way over to the two Mayans. “Bishop, sorry to interrupt but quit hogging him!” You took Angels hand, “come dance with me Angel, it’s our last night here... make it a good one.”
He moved off the wall and to the middle of the living room where you danced and laughed the rest of the night through. When the night had died down it was around 3AM, and everyone had went to bed. Angel lie awake in his bed, tossing and turning, trying to quiet his mind but no matter what he did, his thoughts raced back to you. It was almost as if you could hear what he was thinking because he was snapped out of his thoughts by a quiet tap on the door then the knob twisted.
“Y/N? You okay?” He asked, he could hardly make you out but knew it was you from the way you’re footing sounded on the hardwood floor. You climbed into bed with him and he pulled you in close, facing each other. The smell of liquor on your breaths as you talked to one another.
“I like you Angel. I had the biggest crush on you from the day I met you you know that?” You lightly laughed and he kissed your forehead.
“Yeah? That’s funny. Me too.”
You leaned into him and kissed him, his hands roaming your body under the covers and you grinding your body against him, needing to feel him closer. Between the mix of alcohol and pure adrenaline you had felt whenever you were in his presence, you felt incredible. You pushed him back so that you could straddle him, lifting your shirt over your head and his Hands immediately came up to squeeze your breasts. You were grinding yourself into him and you could feel how hard he was under his boxers. You lowered yourself so you could remove them and you lips were so close to his dick that he could feel your breath on it.
You slowly toook him into your mouth, never taking your eyes off him and from this angle, the street lights shown on you perfectly and he swore you looked like a goddess. He took your hair in his hands and lowered you further into him til he hit the back of your throat and held it there for a few seconds before letting you come back up for air. You moved your head up and down and you wanted him to know how badly you had wanted this very moment. It was sloppy and sexy and filthy. He finally pulled your head up by your hair.
“Come here mama, sit on my face, lemme taste you.” You wiped your mouth and he lowered himself further down the bed, allowing you enough room to get on and steady yourself. As soon as he delivered that first lick down your center, you felt your legs shake.
“I wanna hear you querida, let me know how good I’m making you feel.”
He dove back into you like you were the last thing he’d ever taste, and the way he flicked his tongue over your clit had you gripping the headboard for dear life. You moved your hips in unison with his tongue.
“Right there, yeah, right there baby... please keep going...” he sucked on your clit a final time before turning you over onto your stomach, and pulling you flush against him, he slid right inside you with ease, your orgasm nearing.
He pulled you up by the back of your hair and thrust into you, “you fuckin like that? You like the way I’m fuckin you? Tell me mami tell me daddy fucks you good.”
You were barely able to speak, trying to be as quiet as possible so others didn’t hear but obeying Angels orders.
“I said I wanted to hear you, tell me.”
He thrusted into you faster this time, making the headboard smack into the wall at an insane pace.
“I’m fuckin done sneaking around. You’re mine. If I wanna fuck you ima fuck you, tell me how good I fuck you, let them know whose in this.”
“Fuck Angel, you fuck me so good!”
Coco, EZ, Bishop and some of the other Mayan men all came out of their rooms and into the hallway, staring in the direction of Angels room.
“What the fuck...” Bishop groggily muttered.
“I fuckin knew it. That’s a nanny kink right there!” Coco said.
Letty rolled her eyes and pretended to gag. “You’re so gross.”
*******
Angel turned you over and nestled his head in your neck, your nails digging into his back, biting onto his shoulder as he thrust into you some more.
“I’m gonna full you up again, you’re so fuckin dirty, walking around with my cum dripping out of that pussy all day, you want some more?”
“Yes baby, please fill me up again..” you were sure the headboard was going to break from how hard it had been hitting the wall, but in this moment you didn’t care, all you were focused on was how good he felt inside you, the way he stretched you out and you quickly adjusted to his size was almost as if you were made perfectly for each other. His hand came up and intertwined with yours above your head.
“Fuuuuuuck!” He growled as he thrusted into you, coating your walls with his cum. You were both trying to catch your breath and he kept his head in your neck.
“God damn, I think I fuckin love you girl.”
Tag List: @starrynite7114 @woahitslucyylu @briannab1234 @gemini0410 @ifoundmyhappythought @cind-in-real-life @scuzmunkie @iambabyharry @sadeyesgf @carlaangel86 @everyhowlmarksthedead @notsobuckybarnes @wrcn9fvlcver @elcococruz @jenny885 @general-tiny-mouse @loud-midget @danie1432 @strawberrywritings @justanothermonstah @whatdoyoumeme @thickemadame @jadert15
167 notes · View notes
icyharrington · 5 years
Text
Is It Wrong?- The Epilogue (Michael Langdon X Reader)
Tumblr media
HELLO ALL!!! here is the long-awaited epilogue to finally finish the is it wrong series. i sincerely hope y’all enjoy this, and i am SO sorry for taking forever to write this!! i had some kind of mental block stopping me, but i finally forced myself to sit down and JUST DO IT. i wanna thank every last one of you who’ve supported this series of filth, especially the ones who’ve been here since the beginning. when i published that first chapter, i never realized just how much joy this fucked up little story would bring into my life. y’all are the best. 
plot: it’s been 5 years since your whirlwind fuckfest-turned-romance with your stepbrother, michael langdon, came to its angst-filled end. life is good, but there’s just one thing missing.
warnings: fuckboy michael, fem!Reader, post-high school au, fluff, some angst, cursing/talk of sexual shit/yanno the deal lmao. no smut..... IM SORRY LOL IT JUST DIDN’T FIT INTO WHAT I HAD PLANNED!!! but i hope y’all still like it regardless lmao
word count: 4k
tag list*: @alicecooper19 @wroteclassicaly @ritualmichael @sloppy-little-witch-bitch26 @trelaney @avesatanormalpeoplescareme @kissydevil @sloppy-wrist @michael-langdon-appreciation @ccodyfern @sojournmichael @starwlkers @theinevitableprophecy @divinelangdon @maso-xchrist @space-princesssss @ahslangdon101 @isabellaserpentiawesson @stupidocupido @bademliimagnum @nana15774 @urlocalgothb @hexqueensupreme @gold-dragon-slayer @pr1ncessd1e @langdonsboots @langdonstrash @isoldedax @fckinsupreme @hisgirlwonder @venusxxlangdon @obsessivenostalgicbaby @noelle525 @kleinegamerin @lambofcairo @kiiteiru @littledemondani @beriveri @dcvilrising @grossgayartist @featherpool-852 @discocalico @cryptid-coalition @nu-tt @diamcndscarred @chocolateandhorror @michaelsfrenchtoast @ms-mead @sarcasticbxtch20 @ringpop-poppy @coollangdon @s7venwonders @imjustasadhoe @melodylangdon @bahsasblog @codycrazy @sojournmichael @perfect-ginger-maniac @baphomet-wears-gucci @bigstudentpatrolbonk @langdonsgothgf @jazzcowgirl @a-n-t-s @blind-daydream @langdonsblood @ritualmichael @myluciferiscody @fentycoven @gracebtw @bongwaternation @fckinsupreme @thewalkingtrenchcoats @king-of-mischief-and-bitchez @hoseokchild @witchywcmans @satanicbimbo @mallorys-winter @langdonskillerqueen @anantarora @aradevil @anemia-doll @muralskins @funtomimagines @mrssgtjamesbuckybarnes @our-mrlangdon @lotsofhunny @sevenwonderwitch @horrorstreet @kpopmademedo-it @naughtygranger @codyshands @krazycags01 @skullag
*if you asked to be tagged but aren’t on my tag list, i apologize!!! some blogs just can’t be tagged for some reason :(
You looked out the window and onto the rain-slick city streets, captivated by the way the rows of glowing neon signs reflected in the puddles, and you smiled.
Everything was as it should be.
Sandwiched between your two best friends in the back of the Uber, you couldn’t help but feel a rush of pride at the thought that you’d made it. You’d graduated college, managed to land your dream job, and, most recently, you’d finally been able to get yourself a spacious apartment in the city you loved most. It was the first time in your life that you’d ever felt truly in control of things.
Tonight was a celebration of those accomplishments; you and your friends had arranged to go to the bars by your new apartment that night and get shitfaced like you were college freshmen again, just enjoying each other’s company. You could already feel the warmth of the shots of Fireball you’d pregamed with earlier that night, cheeks flushed and rosy. Life was good.
The Uber screeched to a halt in front of the bar, your friends’ resulting drunken squeals drowning out the rap song that drifted loudly through the speakers. You grinned, waving a quick goodbye to the bored-looking driver before dispensing onto the street with your group, one by one.
Through the glass windows, you saw a lively scene; it seemed as though you’d chosen the perfect night to go out. The bar was dim, lit with overhead lights that shifted from color to color, a band stationed at the stage in full action. People danced, drank, sang; you could see couples making out sloppily in booths. This was going to be a fun night.
Outside the bar stood two skinny boys, dressed casually in ripped jeans and band t-shirts, who you were nearly certain were underage. They chatted as they smoked cigarettes, seemingly unfazed by the chilly breeze and light drizzle coming down over their mops of overgrown hair. One of them, the lighter-haired one of the pair, almost reminded you of…
“Hey ladies,” said one, blowing cigarette smoke from the corner of his mouth with a smirk. You could feel his alcohol-glossed eyes travel up and down your body, drinking in your fishnet-clad legs and prominent curves, accentuated in a maroon leather miniskirt. “You trying to have some fun?”
At this, you and your friends erupted into giggles, long fingernails gripping at each other’s forearms as you fought to balance yourselves.
“Isn’t it past your bedtime?” your friend said, resulting in a fresh wave of laughter.
Ignoring the boys’ scowls, you continued inside, sighing in relief at the warmth, which was only reinstated by the slew of sweaty bodies flowing throughout the building. The music was loud- perhaps not the most accurate in terms of pitch, but it was certainly good enough to dance to, and, luckily, you were in a dancing mood.
“You shoulda gave them your number,” your friend joked as you made your way to the bar, her voice raised so you could hear her above the noise. “When’s the last time you’ve gotten laid?”
You rolled your eyes. Ever since you’d broken up with your ex a year before, your friends had been nagging you to engage in causal hookups to help you get over him- they’d tried setting you up with any single man they could get their hands on, and had even gone as far as creating a Tinder page in your name. In all honesty, you had no interest in men at the moment; you were far more focused on your career, which was your top priority for now. Sure, you got horny sometimes, but wasn’t that what vibrators were made for? You were twenty-two. You had your whole life ahead of you to find some good dick.
Besides, most men you’d been with in the past could hardly satisfy you, so it seemed almost better to do things on your own. The only man you’d ever actually enjoyed being with was…
You flinched, pained by your second reminder of a certain blond-haired fuckboy that night. Even now, nearly five years since the last time you’d seen him, it hurt to think of his name.
“Three Sex on the Beaches, please,” your friend said to the bartender, before turning back to look at you. “Sounds like something you’re in need of.”
“Shut up,” you mumbled, drumming your fingers on the wooden surface as you turned to watch the band, which seemed to be some kind of punk-pop-rock hybrid, the members decked in leather and chains.
“You know I’m right,” your friend shouted, running her manicured fingernails through her hair as she craned her neck to look at the bartender over her shoulder. “Hey, the bartender’s pretty cute. And he even kind of seems like your type.”
You glanced back disinterestedly, hardly breaking your attention from the band to look at the man in question. Right now his back was to you, and he appeared to be talking to some drunk girls as he fixed your drinks; his blond hair was slightly outgrown, fraying out in unkempt curls at the base of his neck, toned bicep flexing under the thin shield of his form-fitting white t-shirt as he reached for a bottle of peach schnapps.
From what you could see, he did seem like your type- almost too much so, it almost starting to creep you out how similar this guy looked to He-Who-Must-Not-Be-Named. You looked away.
“Oh yeah, he is cute,” your other friend said, leaning her elbows back on the bar. “(Y/n), you should pull some moves on him.”
You groaned. “Why are you guys so obsessed with getting me fucked?”
“Because, (y/n). You’re gonna get cobwebs down there if you don’t get your shit clapped soon. Eventually you’re just gonna forget how to fuck altogether,” your friend said, her voice earnest.
“Yeah,” agreed your other friend. “Your vag is gonna close up like a pierced ear when you forget to put in earrings for too long.”
“Three sex on the beaches?” came an amused-sounding voice from behind you, and within the first few syllables of the man’s sentence, you could feel your throat start to close up. You knew that voice anywhere, raspy and rich and warm, even five years since you’d last heard it. But… how? Michael was in California. It had to be some kind of doppleganger working behind the bar. But damn, that was uncanny…
You were almost afraid to turn around, doing so reluctantly, too nervous to care about the fact that you were gnawing all your vampy lipstick off your bottom lip.
“Yeah, that’s ours,” said your friend brightly, accepting her glass, and you decided to rip the band-aid off, forcing your body to turn all the way around.
“So you ladies like sex on the be- (Y/N)?”
Holy ever loving mother of christ. It was him. It was actually. Fucking. Him.
There behind the bar, with plump lips agape and saucer-wide baby-blue eyes, was Michael Langdon, looking almost exactly the same as you remembered. Now, though, most of the baby fat had gone from his face, with one silver earring dangling from his left ear and stubble shadowing his even-more-defined (if that was even possible) jawline. Your mouth went dry, opening and closing as you racked your brain for something to say, heart racing so quickly in your chest you thought you might drop dead at any moment.
“You guys know each other?” your friend asked after several seconds of silence, stretching past you to exchange a glance with your other friend, an immaculately-drawn eyebrow poised in concern.
“Uh- yeah. We, um. Michael, why are you here?” The words didn’t come out exactly the way you’d planned for them to, but his presence had you tongue-tied. In a matter of seconds, you felt like you were eighteen again, broken-hearted and in love and overflowing with red-hot hormones all at once.
“I- (y/n), why are you here?” You could tell that Michael’s lips were beginning to creep into a smirk, and your stomach dipped.
“I just moved to the city,” you said, gripping the edge of the bar and breathing slowly to try and calm yourself. You’d fantasized about finding yourself in this very situation so many sleepless nights before (not that you’d ever admit it), but never had you really expected for something like this to happen. This had to be some sort of profound universe-aligning moment of fate or something, because this was all way too fucking weird to be a coincidence. “I got a job near here. I thought you were in California?”
Michael shook his head with a shrug, sliding your drink across the bar towards you as your friends watched on with quiet fascination. “Haven’t lived there since- damn, has it been three years now? Yeah, I kind of dropped out of college.”
Not really surprising, you thought, relaxing a bit as you lifted your drink to your lips. Michael never had really struck you as a college type.
“So how’d you end up here?” you asked through a wince. The taste of vodka was strong on your tongue even despite the compensating ingredients of your drink, and you still hadn’t managed to get used to the taste of hard liquor even after four years of college.
“Well, I ended up meeting this girl at a party and we became like, boyfriend and girlfriend or whatever,” he said with a half eye-roll, as if he was too cool to admit to something as sensitive as being in a relationship. “But she was in college and I was like, in a band, which didn’t really end up working out, and then she graduated and got a job offer here in the city.”
You licked your lips, picturing Michael as the front man of a rock band, pushing sweaty strands of blond hair back from his forehead as he gripped a microphone with one calloused hand. If only he’d had the talent to match with the look.
“So I was still living with my mom and I needed an excuse to move out, so… I moved with her.” He gave a nonchalant shrug, shirt pulling up slightly at the hem and exposing a sliver of his smooth, firm torso; you were almost ashamed that your mouth began to water.
You tried to ignore the inkling of- jealousy, was it? No, not jealousy, that word was far too harsh for what you were feeling- surrounding the idea that Michael had moved here for a girl, and you went to wash it away with another sip of alcohol. It’d been years. You needed to get over yourself.
“So you live with her now?” you asked coolly, or as coolly as you could manage, looking down into the muddy-organgey abyss of your Sex on the Beach. Your friends, having apparently picked up on the fact that you were in the middle of a very important conversation with a very important person, had taken it upon themselves to join the small crowd surrounding the stage, leaving the two of you alone.
“Fuck no. She ended up fucking my best friend. But I already had this job and I liked the scenery so I stuck around. Wasn’t like there was anything better waiting for me in California.”
You quirked an eyebrow. “Now you know how I felt when you fucked (b/f/n).”
“Oh come on, give me a break. I was eighteen. And she had great tits.” He was leaning forward on his elbow now, resting his chin in the palm of his hand and grinning at you. “Admit it. You were just mad ‘cause you wanted to be the one to get the pipe.”
You snorted, trying not to think too deep into the warm, fuzzy feeling that was starting to flourish in the pit of your stomach and travel up towards your fluttering heart. “Oh, please. I used to fucking hate you.”
“Yeah, but you definitely didn’t hate fucking me,” he said with a wink, pink tongue darting out to wet his full bottom lip. “Though I definitely don’t blame you. I was a huge fuckboy.”
“Was?” you joked, taking another sip. Your eyes fell to a small tattoo on his inner forearm- a simple four-leafed clover, which you secretly thought looked sexy on him.
“Still got that smart mouth, I see,” Michael said, pale eyes glinting with a familiar mischievousness that you hadn’t realized you’d missed until right then. “There must be a lucky guy on the receiving end of all that attitude.”
“Nope,” you said flatly, flipping your hair over your shoulder and leaning forward, perhaps subconsciously hoping for your cleavage to become a bit more pronounced. “Men bore me these days.”
“Men? Or just all men who aren’t me?” He flashed you a devious sideways grin, and your mouth fell open at his boldness. “You’re looking pretty good tonight, baby sis.”
“Hmm. I don’t think that title is quite accurate anymore,” you retorted, hoping he couldn’t tell how flustered his usage of the old pet name had gotten you- apparently he still had that particular talent intact. “But you don’t look so bad yourself.”
“Yeah?” He glanced down at his shirt, which you only just now noticed was stained with some kind of brown liquor. “Not exactly the kind of thing you’d want to be wearing when running into your first love.”
Your heart stirred in your chest, and you could see Michael’s cool smile fade into a panicked wince. First love. You were Michael’s first love.
“First love, huh?” you said softly, tilting your head to one side to regard all of Michael’s handsome features at once. There’d always been some semblance of hope, deep in your belly, that Michael’s feelings for you all those years ago had surpassed simple lust and teenage hormones, but you’d of course had your doubts.
“Well, I mean. Not love, but like. You know.” Michael lifted one hand to scratch the back of his neck, and you could almost swear you saw a dusting of pink cross his porcelain cheeks. “Actually, I mean, yeah. You kind of were my first love. Kinda fucked up that my first love was my stepsister, but…”
“Well, you were my first love too. Unfortunately. You put me through hell, you know that?” You were only half-joking, idly twirling a strand of (h/c) hair around your finger, shifting your weight onto one leg to jut out your hip.
“God, yeah. I know. I suck.” He shook his head, loose waves falling to obscure his hooded eyes, and quickly he tucked it back behind his ears. “I really am sorry, you know.”
You shrugged. “We were just stupid, horny teenagers. It’s all good.”
“Yeah, I mean, but I never really stopped feeling guilty about the way I treated you. You gave me so many chances that I never deserved,” he said, leaning in close so he didn’t have to scream for you to hear him. “You were the perfect girl for me and I took you for granted.”
“Well, like I said…” you paused to take a swig of your drink, nursing your light intoxication, which had affected you to the point where the flavor of alcohol no longer made you cringe. “We were stupid teenagers. And I was very stupid to keep taking you back. Especially after that god awful Applebee’s date.”
He laughed, and your insides warmed at the sound, a light giggle that you only ever reserved for crushes unintentionally passing your lips. Why did this all feel so right?
“Look, I was broke, okay?” He moved in a little closer, crystal blue eyes locked with yours, and for a fleeting moment you thought- or, rather, hoped- that maybe he’d kiss you. Of course, you knew that such a prospect was only wishful thinking, but still you felt a sting of disappointment when he didn’t.  “But I can promise you that if I took you out now, it wouldn’t be to Applebee’s.”
You took a second to respond, your clouded mind trying to figure whether or not that’d just been a proposition of sorts. Fuck it. “You might just have to prove that to me.”
“Oh yeah?” He smiled, this time a little softer than his usual devilish smirk. “A girl like you really wants some loser bartender to take her out?”
You cocked your head. “A girl like me?”
“Well, yeah. I mean, look at you.” He sighed, dragging his gaze up and down your body, which you had to admit looked pretty bangin’ in the outfit you’d chosen for tonight. “I mean, it goes without saying that you’re a fuckin’ ten. But you’re also smart. And successful.”
“How do you know I’m successful?” There was a tiny part of you that was eating this up, having the once-big-and-bad Michael Langdon practically crawl at your feet. “I never even told you what I do for a living.”
“I just assumed, since you said you just moved here, and we both know this city ain’t cheap. But I always knew you’d be successful. I mean, you’ve always known how to go after what you want.” he said. “Plus that outfit looks expensive as hell.”
At this, you struck a dramatic pose, having drank enough that you didn’t really care about making yourself look stupid. “Well, I wouldn’t say it was expensive as hell, but it definitely was worth a few paychecks.”
Michael clicked his tongue but chuckled, a longing expression apparent on his sculpted face. “You’re out of my league.”
You scoffed, slurping up the last of your drink. “I don’t believe in leagues. I mean, I pulled you when we were in high school, didn’t I?”
“You were out of my league then, too.”
“Oh, please.” Such a statement was enough to make you laugh out loud, perhaps a bit too loudly, but you thought that might’ve been propelled by the fact that you were pretty damn drunk now. You shoved the now-empty glass towards Michael, settling your hands on your hips. “You were like, the hottest guy in school.”
He raised a brow, a cocky half-smile stretching across his lips. “Oh yeah?”
You hiccuped (you always had been a lightweight). “Duh.”
He rolled his eyes good-naturedly, picking up your glass and bringing it off to the side to be cleaned. When he returned, he was brandishing a bottle of Windex and a stained washcloth, which was draped effortlessly over one broad shoulder. For a reason that could not, for the life of you, be explained, this view of Michael compelled you to squeeze your thighs together.
“You know,” said Michael slowly, spraying the wooden surface of the bar with chemical blue, “it’s kind of creeping me out how weird this all is. Like, us both ending up here. After five years.”
“I know, right?” Your eyes fell onto Michael’s veined hand, gripping the cloth that was now being used to rub down the bar, and you fought back the sudden urge to run your fingers over it. “I mean, it’s like, everything is aligning so perfectly. It has to mean something, doesn’t it?”
“Didn’t we say that to each other? That night on the beach right before our parents split? That if things were meant to work out, they would one day.” He sucked his lips into his mouth, taking in a sharp inhale and letting his head fall back towards the ceiling.
“It’s like everything’s finally fallen into place.” You breathed, allowing the amalgamated scent of liquor and cigarettes and cleaning chemicals to consume you, hips swaying back and forth to the mellow cover song the band was playing, imperfect but beautiful. “We’d be stupid not to try things again.”
“We would, wouldn’t we?” Michael said, tossing the rag off to the side once he’d finished his cleaning, the surface of the bar now so shiny you could practically see your reflection in it. “I promise this time, if you really want to give me a second chance, I won’t fuck things up. I’ll treat you how you should’ve always been treated.”
There was something about the look in his eyes that made you believe him.
From the crowd by the stage came a chorus of voices, most off-key, as they began to sing along to the band’s cover song, which you were certain you’d heard before, but couldn’t quite place when.
And all that is now
“Hey, I love this song,” Michael said suddenly, as if it hadn’t just been playing for the last several minutes, “fuck, this brings me back to high school.”
You wondered if he still chewed cinnamon gum, remembering the sweet spicy scent of his hot breath on your throat, late at night in the back of his cluttered sports car, the dashboard lights illuminating your half-dressed bodies. You wondered if he still played video games with those ridiculous oversize headphones, if he still liked to take midday naps, if he still fell asleep to South Park reruns.
Most of all, though, you wondered about the things you’d never witnessed, all the things you’d missed over the past five years.
And all that is gone
“Do you still chew cinnamon gum?” you asked abruptly, too drunk to worry about whether or not such a question was weird to ask.
He wiggled his eyebrows, reaching into the back pocket of his torn black skinny jeans (god, he’d always looked so good in those) to retrieve a crushed pack of gum, CINNAMON printed in red lettering across the front.
“Hell yeah,” he said, pulling out a piece and tossing it to you. “That shit beats mint by far.”
You unwrapped the gum and popped it in your mouth, immediately flooded with memories the moment you began working into it with your back teeth.
And all that’s to come
He reached out to flip the foil wrapper over, smoothing out its creases before grabbing a black pen from next to the register. You watched through your dreamlike haze as he jotted down a series of numbers in crooked, loopy handwriting, his tongue poking from the corner of his mouth in concentration. Underneath the phone number he wrote something else, in bold capitals, turning the paper around and sliding it towards you with a wry grin.
666-425-0493
LET’S TRY THIS AGAIN
You took the paper, folding it up and shoving it deep into your skirt pocket, inadvertently sinking your teeth into your lower lip. “Maybe I’ll call you sometime, big bro.”
For a fraction of a second, he landed a glance on your chest, lips twitching upwards just slightly at the corners. “Oh, I’ll be posted up until you do.”
“How about another Sex on the Beach?” you said, even though you were drunk enough on Michael’s presence as it was; it felt like you were floating in the blackness of outer space all while rolling with the soft, turning waves of the ocean, and you couldn’t help but want to feel this way forever.
And everything under the sun is in tune
“Coming right up, ma’am,” came Michael’s teasing reply, making you squirm; your eyes fell shut as you allowed the band’s blaring drum and bass to swallow you whole, swaying aimlessly to the rhythm, your head lolling back and forth.
The music was loud enough to drown out your thoughts, and the sound only increased as the song came to its powerful end, your teeth chattering with adrenaline as an electric chill made its way up your spine.
But the sun is eclipsed by the moon
When you opened your eyes, Michael was back in front of you, and all but the colorful overhead lights had dimmed; the entire bar was potent with color, Michael’s angular features appearing so much softer now, cast with bright purple, then blue, then a shade of pink so vivid it looked almost otherworldly.
Your eyes connected with his for what must’ve been the thousandth time in all the months you’d known him, but you felt, deep in your bones, that this was really only the first.
You had a good feeling about this.
754 notes · View notes
redheadedrenagade · 3 years
Text
Wicked Game
Chapter 1: When the Lights Went Dim
Tumblr media
credit to gamegifsdaily for the beautiful gif. 
Here’s the first chapter to Wicked Game, a Joel Miller x Female OC fanfiction. I’ll be honest, I have NO CLUE where this fic is going to go. I don’t anticipate it being super long, and I still haven’t decided if I’m going to go super in depth into the OC’s past. I really just wanted the chance to write something sweet and smutty for our Joel. And Ellie. I love them both so much don’t loOK AT ME
This takes place 2 years after the pair move into Jackson. OC came along halfway through their first year, so the 3 have had 1.5 years of time spent together so far. In this, Ellie has forgiven Joel for his mistakes and continues to have a healthy relationship with him, though it does still very much bother her now and then.
As far as WARNINGS go, this is an 18+ fic, and I fully intend on keeping it that way. Possible triggers may include sexually abusive language, especially in this first chapter, sexual language and situations (aka SMUT Y’ALL), cursing, gore, death, apocalypse horrors and I’m sure a number of other adult themes. So please, please don’t read if you’re underage. I say that with care, not contempt. 
That being said, I hope you enjoy what I’ve come up with so far. :) If interested, this is the song that inspired the title of this chapter. I felt like it fit really well. 
She had no idea how she’d ended up in this insane situation. Four men with their guns drawn on her, her own gun pointed right at the leader’s forehead as Ellie did as she was asked and stayed behind her. Ellie had no gun on her, just her trusty knife. But they hadn’t thought much of it since Charlotte had her gun, they were hardly out of Jackson to feel true concern. They got complacent. And now, they were in deep shit.
She must actually be afraid if she’s listening. She never listens. God dammit, I have to get her out of this…
“How…how about we make a deal? Hmm? I go with you. Willingly. But you let the girl go,” she says, working hard as hell to keep her voice from quivering as all the possibilities of torture flash across her mind.
“Charlotte…no. NO! You can’t – “
“Quiet, Ellie! I mean it!” she cuts the girl behind her off, her heart breaking at how angry she has to make herself sound so Ellie will hopefully head her suggestion. Charlotte feels Ellie relent as she presses her small body against Charlotte’s back, her forehead coming to rest between her shoulder blades. Charlotte understands the sweet gesture and what it means. She can feel the girl’s anger and love radiating off her. She’s warm, and Charlotte lets herself compartmentalize this nice feeling for another time, when she’ll have to escape inside her own mind just to survive.
I know, honey. I’m sorry. But there’s no other way.
The group of men in front of them snicker and look at each other in a way that makes her stomach twist into a knot.
“Now why in the hell would we do that? You’re both pretty, young things. Especially that one…could be a mighty nice opportunity, trainin’ her to be our little slave,” the leader replies, and she feels her face contort with rage at the sick filth coming out of his mouth.
“We can either all die, right here, right now, or you accept my offer. If not, I’ll put a bullet in your fucking skull, and when one of you shoot me, Ellie will run. Now both of your little fuck-toys are gone. Kinda’ defeats the purpose, don’t you think?”, she hisses at them, her eyes drifting onto each one of them, sizing them up.
Ellie can outrun them. She can do it. I know she can.
Just as she’s about to risk it all and pull the trigger, the man lowers his gun and smirks at her.
“Fine. You’ll just have to care of all of us, then. You think you’re strong, sweetie? Oh, we are gonna’ ruin you,” he says, his dark eyes glittering terribly. Charlotte lets out a long breath she didn’t realize she was holding and gives him one sharp nod, her arm still holding the gun at him.
“Okay. Good. She runs away first, though. Only then do I drop this gun. Then I’m all yours, boys,” she replies, noticing how monotone her voice has become, completely devoid of emotion.
Maybe I’m numb. That’s probably a good thing.
She hears Ellie curse in rage behind her, but before the girl can protest, Charlotte turns her head to the side and lets her eyes find Ellie’s. They are angry, terrified pools of forest green, and her heart clenches hard at how torn she looks.
“It’s okay, Ellie. Go on. It’s okay,” Charlotte whispers to her, giving the girl a smile only reserved for her.
She looks as if she’s about to say something, her mouth parting slightly, but she’s quickly cut off.
“Ellie. We only got one shot at this. Don’t make it all for nothing. Go. Go, Ellie. Now!” she manages to ground out, sparks of agony twisting its way through her veins. Not because she’s scared, but because she knows this is goodbye. Her mind briefly wanders to Joel, picturing his face as he smirks at her and Ellie for doing something weird or obnoxious (which was most of the time). Picturing his dark eyes looking into hers on occasion, which never failed to make her stomach flip flop like a little kid with a crush.
“We’ll come back for you,” Ellie whispers fiercely into her ear, making sure to step to the side and glare acidly at the men, and without another word, the girl turns and starts sprinting away, her form getting smaller and smaller as she distances herself. Not until she’s over the large hill they’d come down does Charlotte sigh in relief, turning her head back to the men.
“Give it five minutes. I’m not stupid, I don’t want you just hunting her down after I give you my gun,” she says matter-of-factly, and the man raises his hands in a passive gesture as he backs up a step and then crosses his arms in wait.
Charlotte hardly registers the conversation a couple of them are having, but she hears enough that she has to physically hold back a shudder of disgust. The time comes and goes in what feels like both seconds and eons, and finally, she slowly lowers her arm and clicks the safety back on, letting the gun fall from her hand into the grass with a soft ‘thump’.
This is actually happening. Shit. But she got away. That’s all that matters. She got away.
“Good girl,” he mocks her in false praise before holding out his hand for hers to take.
She swallows the bile rising in her throat and lets herself remember one last day in the sun with Ellie and Joel. A perfect day, when they were happy, when she’d held Ellie down and tickled her into a laughing fit that made even the unbreakable Joel chuckle and shake his head in amusement. The dinners with Maria and Tommy, in their house which always felt like a haven. The townspeople she’d grown to love like family.
I’ll miss you all so fucking much.
Then, the moment was gone, and all that remained was the hand that would lead her to the end of what her spirit could endure. She takes it and says goodbye to the way things were only hours ago.
══════════════════
Charlotte is jerked awake by the sound of someone’s gruff voice near her, and suddenly, she’s slapped hard across the face. She gasps, blinking furiously while trying to see through the blur of her vision who had hit her. She tries to bring her arms up to protect her face, but she realizes slowly that her wrists and ankles are tied to the chair she’s in. Things come into focus then, the panic of being restrained sharpening her attentions, and she sees the leader of the gang bending down to leer at her, his hands resting on his thighs.
“’Bout fuckin’ time. Been waiting for hours for you to grace us with your presence,” he drawls nastily, and she looks around the small, dingy room and notices it’s just the two of them. The walls and floors are made of concrete, and the only light available are the small rays of sunlight pushing their way through a tiny window high on the wall.
“Did…why did you knock me out, you bastard? I thought…you said – “ He laughs derisively and slaps his thigh in glee, stepping back to walk over to a decrepit old desk that’s covered in various instruments. Deadly looking instruments.
“You really think I give a shit about fuckin’ you, girl? Nah, I’ve got bigger fish to fry,” he replies, picking up a knife that glints ominously in the small bit of sunlight. “We know you two must’ve come from Jackson. We’ve been working for weeks trying to find a way in without being shot, and lo and behold, we come across you two!”
She snorts, despite the consistent throbbing in her head from being cold cocked with his gun and relaxes her head back against the chair casually.
“And you think I can help you…what, sneak in? I hate to be the bearer of bad news, buddy, but it’s impossible. Truly, there’s no fuckin’ way,” she replies with ease, and for the first time since they’d met, she’s being honest with him. It just wasn’t possible.
“I was thinking of something a bit more…motivating. To the people guarding it. Now, I can’t imagine why anyone would give a rats ass whether you live or die, but I’m banking of the fact that they probably don’t wanna’ see you tortured slowly until you die,” he says smoothly as he saunters towards her, slowly making a circle around her.
She feels a jolt of fear course through her, not about being tortured, but about what they’ll do if they see her…would they give in?
God, I hope not.
“They won’t give up an entire community of good people for me, if that’s what you’re wondering. None of us would, for any one person,” she replies, her jaw clenching as she feels his presence behind her where he comes to a stop.
“That so? Hmmm. Well, I think it’s worth a shot, don’t you?” he chuckles darkly before one of his hands comes to wrap itself around her throat in warning.
“Whatever you say, boss. It’s your show, not mine,” she hisses through clenched teeth, wanting so badly to recoil from his touch.
Fuck. This could be bad. Really, really bad.
“Good girl. Let’s get started then.”
Without warning, he stabs the knife deep into the meat of her shoulder, and a sound she doesn’t even realize she can make is ripping its way out of her throat. The unbearable pain is like nothing she’d ever felt as he twists the blade inside, and instead of crying, she roars. Even through the haze of agony, she refuses to let tears fall.
“Aw, I know, honey. But if you cooperate, we’ll save the brutal shit for the townspeople. Have to give them a good show, y’know?” he says as he grips her braid and yanks her head back hard enough to where she can look up into his eyes at an upside-down angle.
She spits into his face in rage, surmising that if this is her last day on earth, she wasn’t going to go out without a fight.
He yanks the knife out of her body and her back arches unnaturally in her chair as she screams again, all anger and no surrender. He walks around to the front of her now, his face far less at ease as he wipes her spit off angrily with the back of his hand.
“Little bitch likes it rough, huh? That’s fine with me.” He then swiftly sinks the blade into her thigh, crouching down close to see her expression. She almost goes deaf from the sound of her own scream in the small room, and out of instinct and adrenaline, starts thrashing against her restraints in earnest.
“What’s that? You want more?” he asks, his expression mockingly soft as he places his free hand against her cheek. She turns quickly and bites a couple of his fingers as hard she can, picturing her canines cracking the bones in half. He wrestles his fingers out of her mouth as he yelps in pain and surprise, then looks at her incredulously as her chest rises and falls rapidly. She stares straight into his eyes, her mouth now filling with a copper taste, and she gives him a bloody, feral smile.
“Do you?” she whispers, and her voice is acid. He blinks a few times before his face twists into rage and he starts to fumble with his belt before ripping it off. She doesn’t have time to anticipate what his intentions are before he’s stomping around to the back of her as he quickly wraps the belt around her throat, squeezing harder, harder, until little white spots start to erupt across her vision.
“Fuckin’ cocky bitch, I’m gonna’ make you wish you would’ve turned into one of those fucking monsters when you had the chance,” he rasps against her ear, but she can barely hear him through the sound of the blood rushing behind her ears. Her heart is trying, and failing, to keep her alive, and the panic of truly not being able to breathe hits like a freight train. She’s turning absolutely animalistic under her restraints, knocking the chair side to side in her desperate attempt to breathe, to escape.
Please, please, air! Please, god!
She’s practically deaf now as the room starts to shrink, dimming around her like theatres used to do before a movie started.
This is it. Oh, god, this is it…
Just as she’s slipping over the precipice of unconsciousness, the belt slackens, causing her to breathe in a horribly painful, ragged breath that claws its way down into her lungs. She immediately starts coughing so hard that she’s barely able to suck in the sweet, precious air given to her, and nothing matters more at this moment than filling her lungs with it greedily. She feels an agonizing pain start to ripple through her shoulder, and then an almost unbearable sensation of the knife being pulled out of her leg in a swift, precise motion. She screams again, her cry broken and raspy after her throat was crushed so tightly by the belt.
“…….hear me?”
“…………I’m here….”
A low, gentle voice rumbles into her senses from across the world and she wonders for a moment if she’s already dead.
She cracks open her eyes as she feels light pressure being applied to her wounds and realizes there must be people here. She croaks out a feeble warning.
“Who…don’t touch – “
She hears it again then, that low cadence of baritone hushing her gently, wrapping something around her leg.
Her understanding seeps back into her brain as her eyes finally start to clear, although things are still a bit blurry as the intense pain throbs and flows through her.
Then, all at once, fear grips her heart hard as memories come flashing back into sharp focus behind her eyes.
Ellie. ELLIE.
“Where’s Ellie?! ELLIE!” she screams, her voice cracking in panic again as the figure of…Joel?…comes into focus before her. Suddenly, she’s awake. Truly awake.
“She’s fine, Char. She’s okay, she’s right here with me, see?” Joel says in a shockingly gentle voice she’d never heard him use before. Not with her, at least. Sure enough, Ellie pauses tending to her shoulder and walks around to look at her, taking her hand gently. The expression on her face breaks Charlotte’s heart.
“God, they really fucked her up, Joel,” the young girl says with a wince that held equal parts compassion and fury as she surveys Charlotte properly.
“Barely…barely a scratch,” she mutters, grinning crookedly at them before furrowing her brows in pain again and letting her head fall back against the chair.
I’m so tired. But I’m safe. Because of them…is this really even happening?
Before she can say anything more, Joel is gingerly scooping her off the chair – when did her restraints come off? – and starts to make his way out of the building with Ellie in tow.
“We know, tough guy,” Joel whispers to her, the barest hint of a smile in his tone as he jostles her into a sturdier embrace. She can’t help but let out a small whimper and she hears him curse under his breath at himself for being too rough. Her vision is starting to grow a bit fuzzy around the edges, and a feeling of calm starts to wash over her as he holds her close.
Suck it up, buttercup. He just saved your ass. Don’t make him feel bad.
In and out, her consciousness weaves as she registers a few bodies here and there on their way out, Ellie marching resolutely in front of them. Joel is so warm, and he’s breathing hard from having to support all of her weight, but he doesn’t slow down for a second. The light of the already darkening day starts to seep into black and white as she starts to black out, and her mind can only think of Joel and Ellie.
They’re okay. She’s okay.
“I’m sorry, Joel…my fault…I’m sorry,” she grumbles groggily into his shoulder, guilt snaking its way into her heart. She’d put Ellie at serious risk. Now, she was doing it again, but this time with Joel in tow.
I’m supposed to protect her. Not the other way around.
“S’all right, sweetheart. Just hang in there. We’ll be home soon,” he replies, and she can feel the comforting vibrations from his chest as he speaks. She giggles lightly at the pet name, her mental awareness no longer coinciding with reality anymore.
“Sweetheart…” she whispers in a small voice, burrowing her face into him closely enough that her lips graze the pulse point beneath his strong jaw. He inhales sharply through his nose and squeezes her a little tighter in his arms but doesn’t reply. Ellie jogs further ahead to keep an eye out, gun in hand as Joel does his best to move as quietly as possible.
The ground starts to be swallowed up by the sky, and she wants to stay awake so badly, but she just can’t. She slackens her hold around Joel’s neck and her body slumps in his arms, all of the fight leaving her at once. She hears him pleading, jostling her a bit to get her attention, but she just can’t. She just needs to rest, just for a minute.
“M’sorry…so tired…” she mumbles before the darkness floods her vision and the world is swallowed by silence.
14 notes · View notes
Text
Joe Mazzello NSFW Alphabet
Tumblr media
Warning: This contains SMUT and like a lot of it so be v v prepared 
Y’all thirsty for this but so am I so let’s do it
A = Aftercare (What they’re like after sex)
Joe might be 50% chaos but he’s also 50% cuteness so you bet his goofy ass is snuggling you while also cracking jokes. I also get the feeling that he’s the type who likes to make jokes with you about the sex you just previously had like maybe you make fun of him for being so sensitive (ticklish) on his thighs and he’s just like “yeah okay but at least I don’t like getting choked ya kinky fuck” and then you guys just roast each other and snuggle until you eventually fall asleep
B = Body Part (their favorite body part of theirs and also their partner’s)
So when it comes to sex, Joe definitely loves his arms. He doesn’t spend multiple days in the gym during the week working his arms just so he looks good in leather jackets no no no, he spends all that time getting built so he can pin you down while he eats you out or hold you up against the wall while he takes you just about anywhere and anytime he wants. He used to like his hips the most (mostly because of the noises he’d get out of you when he slammed into you from behind) but one somewhat drunken night you went on for a solid hour about how turned on you got when you saw his arms and then they just became his favorite since you loved them so much.
His favorite body part of yours was definitely your tits. Speaking of drunken confessions, Joe once slurred out how much he wanted fuck your tits - which would be super sexy except for the fact that it was at a very public bar and in front of Ben and Gwil (who were too drunk to care at the time but definitely brought it up again). You did eventually let him have his way with your chest days later, but not without a proper scolding and then poking fun at him.
C = Cum (Anything to do with cum basically... I’m a disgusting person) (i am so sorry for the FILTH that is this paragraph like w o w )
We already know Joe loves your boobs so obviously he loves to finish on them. Especially after you’ve blown him, his cum hitting your chest is just icing on the cake for him. However, when it came to taking your relationship to the next level (i.e. wanting kids/ baby making time), Joe loved to cum inside of you. He loved when you’d ride him, his orgasm hitting him like a ton of bricks and then watching as you pulled off of him while his cum dripped out of you. If he wasn’t already fucked out, that did him in.
D = Dirty Secret (pretty self explanatory, a dirty secret of theirs)
Clothed sex. The man may be 36 but damn it if he doesn’t love to feel like a horny teenager again, fooling around with you whenever he could. The fact that you can rile him up without ever shedding a layer both stunned him and made him want to fuck you even more. The very few times you made him cum in his pants, Joe was pretty sure he was 18 all over again and also thought he might have seen heaven with how hard and fast you could make him cum and mess his very expensive trousers. He wishes it happened more often but he’d never say a word to you (bc dirt secret duh)
E = Experience (how experienced are they? do they know what they’re doing?)
You take one look at that man and you try and TELL ME he doesn’t know what he’s doing. He could make you cum in SECONDS if he wanted to.
F = Favorite Position (this goes without saying)
If he’s feeling fast and freaky: Joe loved to either bend you over any surface he could find (he’d settle for holding you against the wall if a counter or tabletop didn’t see fit to his requirements) OR he’d lie back and let you ride him and have your way with him.
If he’s feeling in love/soft: Joey boy loves some vanilla sex. Missionary. Hand holding. Eye contacts. I love you’s. All the mushy gushy stuff. He eats that up and he knows you do too. The man loves to love so he does it right.
G = Goofy (are they more serious in the moment, or are they humorous, etc)
It doesn’t matter what kind of sex your having, fast, slow, quickie, or all-day long, Joe will always be a goofball. The first time you guys had sex, he was so nervous that he tried to crack a joke just to ease the tension and it made the both of you laugh so hard that you had to take a break. Needless to say, Joe’s humor in bed kept you guys grounded, and it just made you love your chaotic, goofy boy even more.
H = Hair (how well groomed are they, does the carpet match the drapes, etc)
He’s well-groomed. Nothing too crazy and he isn’t completely stripped either. Just nicely trimmed.
I = Intimacy (how are they during the moment, romantic aspect...)
As mentioned in F, Joe likes a mushy gushy moment, but every sexual moment had some sort of soft intimacy at some point just like it had some type of goofy moment. Joe adores you and he never wants to let you forget it, so even if he’s railing you against a bathroom counter at some fancy LA party, he’ll still look you in the eyes and tell you how much he loves you before and after you both cum.
J = Jack Off (masturbation headcanon)
Whenever Joe had to go away for work, he’d always FaceTime call you so you could lend him a virtual hand. On the days you were anticipating the calls (he’d text you a pic of his not so little problem tenting his boxers with the caption “FaceTime?” and like ten prayer emojis) you’d get out a little lingerie and something to cover up with. Some days you’d throw a big tshirt over yourself to look like you weren’t all dolled up underneath while other days you’d opt for a silky robe or one of Joe’s Yankees jerseys, the latter of which drove him absolutely wild. While he loved to watch you get off while he did too, you always insisted that he was more stressed out so he should be the one who comes first. This was always a relief for Joe as he’d be incredibly worked up before he called you so just seeing your face had him nearly cumming on the spot. On days he couldn’t FaceTime you, he’d pull out the polaroids you took of the two of you during one of your all night escapades and envision that you were there with him, touching him the ways you always did so perfectly.
K = Kink (one or more of their kinks)
Joe is a chaotic being so of course he’d be quite... adventurous. He loved the idea of public sex/ getting you off whenever and wherever he could. The fancier the place, the quicker he’d be trying to get his hands up your dress or have your mouth on his cock in whatever bathroom or hallway he could find. 
He’s also big on nicknames. He preferred giving you them but he never complained when “Joey” passed your lips. His favorites for you were “princess”, “darling”, and “baby” though when you two were getting especially frisky “you little minx” might pop out. 
L = Location (favorite places to do the do)
While he was adventurous, Joe still thinks nothing beats good ole fashioned bedroom sex. The way you looked sprawled out on his bed sheets, hair splayed around your face, the soft light of his nightstand lamp making you look ethereal - yeah, there was no greater sight to Joe. Nothing else could compare to the absolute bliss that came from taking you in his bed and then holding you close, never having to switch locations from love-making to cuddling. 
M = Motivation (what turns them on, gets them going)
Cliche as it sounds, everything you do gets him hard. Joe sometimes thinks he has a real problem, seeing as just the sight of you bending over to pick up something has him adjusting himself or taking you right then and there. But what really gets his cock hard is when you tease him, soft caresses over his jeans, whispering dirty things in his ear, anything you could do to allude to what was to come later got him harder than a rock and usually ended in him whimpering to you and begging for you to touch him.
N = NO (something they wouldn’t do, turn offs)
Joe would never do anything to hurt you or degrade you. Aside from some light mid-sex spanking, Joe would never hurt you on purpose or call you any type of name that was less than your character.
O = Oral (preference in giving or receiving, skill, etc.)
I think it’s a toss up for which he prefers more. You mouth on his cock, sucking him dry while he moans like a goddamn pornstar was always top notch; but hearing you cry out his name and tug on his hair while he gives you as many orgasms with his mouth as he could managed have even brought him over the edge quite a few times. So Joe sees these as pretty evenly stacked bets, but he thinks if he really had to choose, your pleasure would beat his in the end. 
P = Pace (are they fast and rough? slow and sensual? etc)
Joe’s default setting on sex was always and will always be set to soft and sweet. Not too slow, not too fast, just the right pace to have you to both losing your minds while also feeling incredibly intimate. These setting changed of course based on his and your moods. Stressful days called for fast and rough while morning sex was reserved was slow and sweet loving.
Q = Quickie (their opinions on quickies rather than proper sex, how often, etc)
Quickies for Joe were like grabbing a bag of chips instead of eating the full meal. Yes they were delicious and satisfying enough to tide him over, but they were never the real deal and thus he always craved something more substantial. 
R = Risk (are they game to experiment, do they take risks, etc)
Joe’s game to experiment but only after talking it over and making sure there was mutual want and consent for the experiments in question. As you relationship progressed, he’d get bolder and definitely be more spontaneous as long as you were down too.
S = Stamina (how many rounds can they go for, how long do they last...)
Joe usually surprised you with just how long he could last. While there were quite a few occasions in which Joe came sooner than expected (what can he say? you knew how to work him up), he almost always held out until he was fully inside of you and you were on the brink of your final orgasm. On the nights where he was too worked up and came much sooner than expected, giving himself a few extra minutes of working you up and hearing you beg him for more usually got him going again. Needless to say, his stamina was pretty damn good.
T = Toy (do they own toys? do they use them? on a partner or themselves?)
Joe didn’t own any toys himself but when he found out how fast you could lose control with a vibrator on your clit, well, Joe made sure to grab a few different kinds for future use. He mostly used them on you, but he’d be lying if he said he’d never used them on himself (See W for more details...)
U = Unfair (how much they like to tease)
Joe is a pretty straight to the point kind of guy so he’s not one teasing. He leaves that job to you since you seemed to do it so well. There were moments when he’d lightly tease you, usually when he went down on you. He’d run his beard along your thighs, plant open mouth kisses on your lower stomach, and - his favorite form of teasing - he’d leave hickies just about anywhere he could before finally allowing his mouth to touch where you needed it most.
V = Volume (how loud they are, what sounds they make)
Joe is LOUD and I will take no arguments on the matter. (note that one borhap interview where he just openly fucking whimpered like hi sir where is your self control) He loved to make noise and let you know just how goddamn good you made him feel. His noises could range from whimpers to moans of your name, and he’d always have some string of cuss words to accompany ever grunt and groan that fell from his lips.
W = Wild Card (get a random headcanon for the character of your choice)
Joe knew just how much you loved your vibrator so one day he decided to try it for himself. In his defense, you left it in his suitcase from your last weekend getaway and Joe happened to find it just as he was getting ready for bed while away for filming. Knowing you couldn’t FaceTime that night, he made himself comfy in his bed, pulled your pictures out to rile himself up and went to town. The absolute euphoria he felt when he let the vibrator, set to its lowest level, graze the head of his cock was unlike anything he’d ever experienced. It only took him a few minutes of stroking himself while he pressed the vibrator to the base of his dick just above his balls before he was cumming hard and fast, eyes closed and whimpering your name. It was almost too much for him and Joe decided that he’d store that option away for when he was really desperate and needed to get off quick (or just when you were there and could help him feel even more risky).
X = X-Ray (let’s see what’s going on in those pants)
I have been waiting to talk about this because there is just a way that Joe carries himself and speaks that have had me saying on many occasions “WE GET IT JOE YOU HAVE A BIG DICK” and I firmly believe the man is packing some serious heat. I understand the use of cups and their way of accentuating things but if you look at him in Undrafted, like, that’s a pretty big cup my guy and those things are meant to fit a certain way and like hug so... I’m just saying... *insert the eyes emoji like six times*
Y = Yearning (how high is their sex drive?)
I think he’s got a pretty moderate sex drive. He’s always down when you are but there are plenty of other things he like to do besides dick you down. Joe’s got the biggest boner for domestic bliss so even if you’re not jumping each other’s bones he’s still perfectly happy. He has his moments when he absolutely aches for your touch but those are usually when he’s been gone filming too long or when you’ve been teasing him relentlessly.
Z = ZZZ (how quickly they fall asleep afterwards)
He’s not one to pass out immediately afterwards, but he’s definitely a tired boy. Joe makes sure to take proper care of you, cleaning you up and making sure you’ve peed and that both of you have what you need before you pulls you in close and snuggles you. Sleeping isn’t the first thing on his mind after you two are done, in fact it might even be the last. He loves to hold you close and talk to you about anything and everything, all the while tracing patterns on your skin with his fingers or playing with your hair. Anything to have you close to him physically, emotionally, and mentally before you both finally drift off to sleep.
I HOPE THIS WAS OKAY ALSO I FEEL LIKE SIN SO I AM SO SORRY FOR THE FILTH THAT JUST TOOK PLACE 
Tagging people who responded to my post about this so they can see it:
@spunky-town @michael-is-bae @fallinlovewhenitsdone @deanscroissant @mrsjosephmazzello @givemeunicornsorgivemedeath 
393 notes · View notes
Text
King Falls AM - Episode Twelve: All the Pretty Flowers
View on Google Docs
Summary: October 15, 2015 - Against Ben's wishes, Sammy broaches a touchy subject after witnessing a hearse delivering white roses on his way into the station. Is it a King Falls Halloween tradition or could it be something more sinister? #RedRumRoses
[podcast intro music]
[jazz music]
Chet Well the clock on the wall is telling me that’s all, y’all. So I’m gonna mosey on down to The Red Rock bar and buy all the ladies a drink on me. But don’t try to fool me again, Dennis. This has been Chet Sebastian’s Jazz Corner. Until next time… keep it cool King Falls.
[Sammy & Ben Show intro music]
Ben Good evening, you’re listening to King Falls AM [door closing]– that’s 660 on the radio dial. [slightly irked] And this is the Sammy and Ben show— sans-Sammy at the moment.
[footsteps]
Sammy Sorry about that, Ben! everybody at home. I was just running a little late. I was j- Y-you know, I just saw the weirdest thing!
Ben Was it Chet leaving? I told him to take that fur coat off. Guy looks like he walked off a set of a Blaxploitation[1] film.
Sammy *laughs* No, I wish I’d seen that. But I was driving in tonight- I was running a tad bit late, as you can see, and I swear to you: I’m coming up Main Street, I got behind a hearse delivering these giant white rose bouquets! Like, every couple of streets the damn thing’s stoppin’!
Ben No.
Sammy No *laughs* yeah it did.
Ben … SOOOOO… Weee’ve got a great show for you folks tonight. Uh, Ernie Salcedo…
Sammy Ben.
Ben *pointedly clearing his throat* … Yes?
Sammy Okay, I can see you slashing at your neck furiously and shaking your head “no”, but the audience can’t. Sooo, what’s the issue here?
Ben *nervously* I’m sorry we… just don’t talk about this, Sammy.
Sammy So you know of it! Is it like some kind of weird Halloween thing?
Ben [flatly] Halloween? Are you serious? We don’t celebrate Halloween here in the Falls, Sammy.
Sammy WHAT? This is like friggin’ Halloween Town! You know those shops that open up every year around Halloween and close the day after? King Falls is where all those shops should move to when it’s not Halloween.
Ben Two things. 1) That’s a horrible business model, and 2) Halloween is one, big, diabetic pumpkin.
Sammy Come on? You don’t like decorating? Trick-or-treating?
Ben ALL OF IT. It’s like you’re— tempting these ghouls and goblins to come and mess with you. We get enough of that here. And again, diabetes.
Sammy Okay, I can see where you’re coming from, but I’m not gonna lie— this is kind of a surprise.
Ben What can I say? We’re more the Christmas or Arbor Day types.
Sammy Okay, so the hearse is delivering flowers. What’s the deal if it’s not a Halloween… ritual?
Ben Did you really see that? Did someone tell you to mess with me about this?
Sammy Scout’s Honor. I was late because of it! I illegally passed on a double yellow line (sorry Deputy Troy) just to skate around ‘em and make my way up the mountain.
Ben … I don’t like this. I-I don’t know that I’ve ever known anyone that saw the flowers delivered. Usually businesses and people just find the wreaths the next morning. D-Di-Did you see inside the hearse? Was it… people?
Sammy You know, I didn’t look, but I’m gonna go out on a limb and say… it was a human being.
Ben Well, that’s good. *breath* It’s something.
Sammy Okay, so the roses…
Ben [voice breaking] Damnit, Sammy! We got a show scheduled, ya know?
Sammy I’m well aware! Just fill me in about the roses and we’ll move on.
Ben [muttering] Yeah yeah, okay, so… *deep breath* Every year, around this time—
Sammy Halloween…
Ben OCTOBER.
Sammy Uh-huh…
Ben Every— October… there is a certain society of people— and I use the term “people” loosely— that congregate and deliver the rose wreaths to individuals and businesses. That’s— a fact.
Sammy And?
Ben Annnd… nobody really knows what happens after that.
Sammy [audible grin] But legend has it…!
Ben Don’t “legend-has-it” me! Nobody knows for sure! Why gossip?
Sammy Okay. What do you think happens, Ben?
Ben *breathes in* Uuuugghhhh… Well, I think people either accept this weird— invitation or… they don’t. But I can tell you, the people that don’t? Well… they don’t, last long after that.
Sammy Okay. So we’ve just went from spooky 1-800-Flowers to murder in only a few easy steps.
Ben Not- murder- per say, but… businesses that decline tend to… move away or go under. Or tragedy strikes. Sure, I-I’ve heard stories of these folks winding up on the wrong end of a funeral ceremony, but… I couldn’t prove it. Are you satisfied now?
Sammy Of course. Thank you, Ben. King Falls, you’ve heard our story, now let’s hear yours!
Ben DON’T open the phone lines!
Sammy We’re-opening-up the phone lines here at the station! 424-279-3858. Have you had contact with this demonic annual floral delivery? Hit us up!
Ben Don’t call or tweet us. Please.
Sammy Give us a call or tweet us @KingFallsAM, [smugly] Ben will personally answer every tweet #RedrumRoses[2]
Ben NOPE! Not gonna happen.
Sammy Ben…[faux sympathy] It looks like the phone lines are lighting up, buddy.
Ben I expected better of you, King Falls.
Sammy Lucky Line 1, you’re on the air with Sammy And Ben.
Pete Low-down, gossip-mongering, muckraking filth.
Ben [flatly] Pete?
Sammy [quiet and amused] Escobar?
Pete N-uh- it’s Pete. You know damn well I’m listenin’.
Ben Wwhat’s on your mind tonight, Pete?
Sammy Did your mom teach you to start off phone calls with name-calling, Pete?
Pete [faint creaking in bg] My mom taught me to… stand up for myself! Don’t start a fight, but don’t be afraid to end it.
Sammy Who’s fighting?
Pete Oh, what a short attention span you have, Sammy. Not dwelling on you and Mr. Howard Ford Beauregard III issues; you’re picking a fight with the Unknown! Ben told you to shut your trap. [very faint sounds of driving]
Sammy Heh, lemme tell you, this would a long four hours if we didn’t talk and, y’ know, sometimes you have to—
Pete Yeah yeah, I get it, Mr. Nincompoop Radio Host. [creaking] You gotta blab. But that’s something you don’t trifle with. You should know this.
Ben Sammy, you know I hate to say Pete is right about anything, but—
Pete But I’m right about this! I know you know, Ben. That’s all I need to know. Stop yapping about things you don’t understand.
Ben Thanks, Pete.
Sammy [mostly resigned] Did you have a question or an experience with the flowers, Pete?
Pete Abs-absolutely not! I– d-don’t try to get me in trouble. [car door closing]
Ben You okay over there, Pete?
Pete [failing at being nonchalant] Yeah I’m just out, and… uh, just out.
Sammy [incredulous] This time of night?
[car door slamming]
Pete Yeah! I’m- runnin’ errands and- stuff like that, y’know. ‘T’s- It’s not- it’s not your business!
Ben [literally tongue-in-cheek] Uh-huh…
Pete You’re makin’ something of this. Yer- you’re doin’ somethin’, you’re getting me invo— Stop.
Ben It’s just weird, Mr. Beauregard’s gardener is out at 2 in the morning, running errands.
Sammy So your boss doesn’t have anything to do with the roses, does he, Pete?
Pete Ben Arnold. If you’ve got a lick of good sense, I wouldn’t walk too close to Sammy for the next feww… mm— mmmm… lifetimes! He’s gonna wind up on the bottom end of an anvil.
Sammy You know, I just don’t think asking questions is the equivalent of buying ACME rocket kits and trying to catch a damn bird.[3]
Ben [semi-stern] Y’mind answering his question, Pete?
[creaking]
Pete Oh, HELL NO. You two are a couple ‘a horse patoots. I’m never listening to this show again.
Ben Until tomorrow.
Pete PETE OUT! [click, dial tone]
Ben Are you happy, Sammy? Is this what you were hoping for?
Sammy Civilized conversation is the only thing I look for. That said… I’m gonna say, it’s a tad bit suspicious.
Ben There are dots we don’t need to connect. MOVING ON!
Sammy Maybe you’re right.
Ben Folks, we’re gonna take a break to pay some bills, and we’ll be right back and on schedule.
[rattle, guitar strums]
Dale (presumably) [voice is a low murmur (for lack of a better word)] Dale’s Dollar Tree… [strum] at dirt cheap prices… [strum] it’s almost free. [guitar,western music] Hi, everybody, I’m super excited to tell you ‘bout some unbelievable deals we have right now… at Dale’s Dollar Tree. Let’s segue to the savin’s [eagle screech] Our low prices are guaranteed… Who’s guaranteeing it, you ask? … Me… [guitar stops] How do you take advantage of these savings? [strum, rattle] 1) Walk into Dale’s Dollar Tree [strum] 2) Throw somethin’ in your cart [strum] 3) Savings. [guitar] Dale’s Dollar Tree. [eagle screech]
[S&B theme]
Sammy Ladies and gentlemen, we are back and you’re listening to King Falls AM. Now we were just talking about me running late this morning, because of a, uh, hearse—
Ben [cutting Sammy off] So we’ve got a great show scheduled tonight. We’ve got Mr. Eli Goldblum on later in the hour.
Sammy And who is Mr. Goldblum?
Ben Are you kidding me? Only the most renowned post-mortal psychologist known to man! He’s on his spoken-word world tour, and this Thursday, you can see him live at the King Falls Convention Center.
Sammy … That’sss-something.
Ben Indeed! So that’s in about… forrrty minutes. Uh, we got Rose, (from Rose’s Diner, of course) calling in to talk about how the Bee Crisis is affecting her honey-baked ham specials for the- foreseeable future.
Sammy [TIL] Really? That’s something that’s happening?
Ben Come on, Sammy. This bee situation is serious business.
Sammy You get points for not buzzing or saying “beeees-ness”
Ben You don’t wanna know how hard that was…
Sammy -eh- Okay. So, how can we help with the bees?
Ben Uhhh… cut- back- on swatting them?? *awkward laugh* I-I-I don’t know for sure that’s-that’s why we’re talkin’ to Rose.
Sammy Gotcha!
Ben And our first topic of discussion this evening— was gonna be—
Sammy About the flowers.
Ben Don’t.
Sammy Okay, look. Can we open up the phone lines again? I’d like to talk about these flowers. Uh, you tell King Falls your topic, and then we’ll see what they wanna talk about.
Ben You know they’ll talk about the damn rose wreaths!
Sammy You heard it here, folks. Line 7, you’re on with Sammy and Ben.
Herschel Ugh, I can’t sleep with all this damn racket going on! You two DINGLEBERRIES keep it down!
Sammy *laugh* Herschel??
Herschel Oh, hell. Don’t make me get out of bed and give you a full blast so late at night! [muttered] Don’t even know where my slippers are…
Ben Mr… Baumgartner, you realize you called us, right? This is- the radio station.
Herschel I know who and what I called. I dialed you DICKWHISTLES because all this [mocking] cry-babying about the damn flowers. Turn that jazz fella back on so- so I can get some rest!
Sammy Chet is on from 10 to 2, Mr. Baumgartner. This is Sammy and Ben and we- talk about—
Herschel I don’t give a damn if it’s Tricky Dick Nixon calling to give me a Congressional Medal of Honor! You shut your nose holes about the damn funeral flowers. And play me some heroin-fueled American art! [click]
[dial tone]
Sammy We’re gonna count that as one for the flowers…
Ben Line 14, you’re live on the air.
Creeper Long time listener here!
Sammy [click, dial tone]
Ben Did you hang up, Sammy?
Sammy Yeeaah, sorry. I hate that guy.
Ben Line 3,*chuckles* this is King Falls AM.
Beauregard Good evening, Benjamin. Samuel. This is—
Ben Beauretard?![sic]
Beauregard *sigh* Mr. Howard Ford Beauregard the Third. My man told me that you were spreading more lies than usual on your little “radio show.” I thought I would call and clear the air.
Sammy Mr. Beauregard, can I just say, before this call goes ANY further— that we will not accept any abuse towards us or the listeners of this show.
Beauregard How cute that you think people listen to you two buffoons.
Ben That’s abuse! That’s exactly what we were—
Beauregard Oh, that’s a joke where I come from. You millennials would never have lasted back in my day. With your emotions and feelings and the like.
Ben When was that day, again, Mr. Beauregard?
Beauregard Information about myself and my family, can be found in my international, best-selling e-book, “King of King Falls” … I don’t have to answer to— well— you.
Sammy *sigh* Did you have a reason for the call tonight, Beauregard?
Beauregard Indeed, I do. While men with any couth wouldn’t speak about festivities that they know nothing aboouut—
Sammy So, you’re behind these deliveries?
Ben Also, while I would never name names and throw my friend under a bus— you should know this wasn’t the agreed upon topic of the show.
Sammy Oh, stop it.
Beauregard [agonizingly insincere] I don’t know a thing about the supposed yearly white rose deliveries you speak of. My family, nor myself, have ever been involved with such jovality.[sic] In fact, in all my years I can’t recollect such a thing.
Ben I don’t buy that for a second. Maybe you’ve never sent the roses, and— let’s play devil’s advocate and say, sure, you’ve never received them (which I doubt), but there is No Way you haven’t heard of this.
Beauregard Maybe it’s something you commoners have made up, like, uhh- the tooth fairy or the Illuminati orrr— equal rights for the sexes.
Ben I can’t deal with this guy! Just dump him and let’s take another line.
Sammy Wait… Mr. Beauregard. If you don’t care about this— and, in fact, haven’t even heard of it until tonight— why would you bother to break your Hate-Silence with us to call in?
Beauregard You’re not nearly as dumb as you look, Stevens! And while I continue to honor my statement before— I’d have to assume that this “rose” ordeal is a real thing. It’s probably a very special thing! An intimate invitation sent by the upper echelons of King Falls. A way of making amends or bring people worthy of attention, into a conversation that normally would not have been invited to have.
Ben Just for everyone keeping score at home: I took a college course on Crazy and I believe he is saying he knows that the wreath deliveries are real, and he is probably behind them.
Beauregard Time is money, gentleman. Not that you understand that concept. But instead of painting a ceremony you know nothing about as tragic and scary— perhaps it’s not. Perhaps it’s something more than that, entirely. In any case, it’s not something that should be spoken about in public. [phone pings] Ahhh… I’ll be going now, “gentlemen.” And while I do use that word lightly, perhaps take a break from your radio program and… check your door.
Ben Isss that a threat?
Beauregard Trick-or-Treat, Samuel… Benjamin. [click]
[dial tone]
Sammy I wonder what he sounds like when he has something nice to say to people.
Ben He probably hasn’t said anything nice to a person since the 60s… The 1860s.
Sammy Ya know, I didn’t mean to ruffle anyone’s feathers tonight. Especially crazy old billionaires who try to drive us off the air— so let’s just—
Ben I’M GONNA GO CHECK THE DOOR.
Sammy What?!
Ben Yeah. [chair sliding out] I’m sorry, man. Beauregard gives me the willies [squeak] and I wanna make sure there isn’t—
Sammy A sugar-glider on a noose?
Ben Too far. I was just gonna say— that he hasn’t had Pete ding-dong-ditch us- or something.
Sammy And here I thought the Williams boys had that market cornered.
Ben I’ll be back in a sec. [footsteps rushing off]
Sammy [shouting after him] Don’t talk about Pete that way, Ben! He’s never gonna listen to the show again! Alright, folks. We are just a few hot minutes away from Eli Goldblum coming into the studio to talk about, [ominous bg music starts] uh… I’m guessing- ghosts with lingering mental issues? Ah, sorry— apparitions. [footsteps rushing back] I’m holding out hope for an apparition with multiple personality disorder, but I don’t know if that’s a thing or not… [chair squeak, Ben sitting] Ben? You okay, buddy?
Ben [upset] How many times, did I ask you to stop talking about the stupid, hearse, Sammy?
Sammy What’s wrong?
Ben [sarcastic] Oh, nothing. You wanna go outside and take a look?
Sammy You know, I don’t think I want to. I’m happy with you filling me in.
Ben Well, I didn’t go outside, Sammy! I didn’t have to. I looked out the front window.
[ominous bg music getting louder]
Sammy Yeah? And?
Ben [hissed] damnit
Sammy … Ben. What is going on? Do we need to call Troy?
Ben The whole parking lot- your car, MY car— as far as the lights will let me see— Nothing but white roses, man.
Sammy … Are you serious?
Ben Go look!! Just don’t go out there, huh? It looked like it was snowing, that’s how many of those damn things are out there.
Sammy [scrambling for optimism] What’s the chances that it’s just a non-Halloween bouquet from Emily to you?
Ben ZERO. Zero percent chance, Sammy.
Sammy [seriously] Folks, we’ll be right back after a word from our sponsors.
[KFAM outro]
[CREDITS]
References
[1] Blaxploitation - Blaxploitation or blacksploitation is an ethnic subgenre of the exploitation film that emerged in the United States during the early 1970s. The films, while popular, suffered backlash for disproportionate numbers of stereotypical film characters showing bad or questionable motives, including roles as criminals.
[2] #RedrumRoses - Redrum is from the psychological horror film The Shining. It’s “murder” spelled backward.
[3] “ACME rocket kits and trying to catch a damn bird” - I sincerely hope no one will ever be too young for this reference, but I once had my little brothers ask who Mr. Rogers was so: this is a reference to the Looney Toons cartoons, Wile E. Coyote and the Road Runner. In each episode, Coyote repeatedly attempts to catch and eat the Road Runner, a fast-running ground bird, but is never successful. In order to catch the Road Runner, Coyote uses absurdly complex contraptions- most acquired from the mail-order company ACME- to try to catch his prey, which all backfire comically with Coyote often getting injured in slapstick fashion.
9 notes · View notes
purpletigertaetae · 5 years
Text
Drunk Lessons
Tumblr media
Gif isn’t mine!
Pairing: Baekhyun x Reader, Taehyung x Reader (if you squint)
Word Count: 2811
Genre: SMUT, idolverse!Baekhyun (All the groups are friends!)
Rating: Explicit/Mature (can you believe I almost put NC17 😂🤦🏽‍♀️)
Warnings: HOO BOY. ALL THE SMUT, dirty talk, overstimulation, orgasm denial, oral sex (both female and male), unprotected sex (Look it makes for great smut, but please please practice safe sex!), hints of a threesome (again if you squint), cursing, a very jealous Baek, basically this is pure filth, if you don’t like then don’t read okay?
Tagging: @illneverrecover Dearest Father, this is for you I hope you like it! I’m sorry if I kill you, Please don't kill me! (I SHIP THE JAEKHYUN). I’d also like to thank @thecozywhaleshark for offering me constant support while I wrote this. I screamed at her a lot y’all, she’s the true MVP. Also @taetaesbaebaepsae, thank you for being an encouraging mama who helped bolster my smutty thoughts! and @lvupmushroom! thank you for headcanoning with me which led to this! I also send all my love and thanks to the Cirque for supplying the constant thirst.
Notes: So! This is my first time publishing proper written smut! I’ve written snippets when I go feral and then Cirque yells at me, but this is the real deal y’all. So funny story, I don’t actually stan EXO... but I do stan Jaekhyun! (Actually I can only tell Baekhyun and Chanyeol apart from the group.) This idea actually came about when we were discussing how much Jackie is a clown for Baekhyun (She’s the biggest clown for him) and we were thinking that he’d be a clown for her too. (THESE ARE THE FACTS OKAY). I actually didn’t come up with a title for this piece until about 10 minutes ago, the title of this doc had been Destroying Jackie with Love (and I was so close to keeping the title too 😂) Anyways, I hope you enjoy the smut! It’s a lot!
Taehyung, being the social butterfly he is, had called everyone, GOT7, EXO and others, over for a party at the BTS apartments. It was very lowkey, but you were really excited. Baekhyun, on the other hand, was not so much.
“Baby, do we have to go? We can make excuses, and have some fun of our own.” He tugged your hand into bed.
“Baek, we are not having sex right now. I haven’t seen my girls in a long time, and come on. It’s not too many people, and you know Taehyung. The boys are all friendly! It’ll be fun, I promise. And if we go, and have fun, I’ll blow you after yeah?”
“Now that, I could get on board with.” You rolled your eyes, with a smirk playing on your lips and finished getting ready.
Soon, you were at Taehyung’s door, Baekhyun clasping your hand tightly, a bottle of wine in the other. You rang the bell, and Tae opened the door, his face split into his signature boxy smile. “Baekhyun Hyung! Y/N! You made it! He opened the door wide, and hugged Baekhyun, clapping him on the back. He then turned to you hugging you and kissing your cheek. You giggled, shoving Tae away, but Baekhyun’s eyes narrowed. This was going to be a long night.
“The girls are in the kitchen, if you want to go find them. Hyung, you’re coming with me!” Tae gestured to the kitchen while pulling Baekhyun towards the group of boys lounging in the living room. As you went through to the kitchen you waved at them, Jungkook and Jimin waving back, Namjoon and Jackson nodding at you while in deep conversation.
Soon though, the crowd thinned out. As the evening got later and later, only the BTS boys and the EXO boys remained, relaxing in the living room. You were sitting next to Tae on the floor, on your fourth vodka soda, tipsy and flirty, while Baekhyun sipped on some soda, stone cold sober, chilling on the couch.
As you got more drunk, the conversation between you and Tae became more and more dirty, while Baekhyun tried his level best not to destroy his friend sitting next to you.
“Taehyungieeee, hand size doesn’t compare to dick size.”
“Y/nnnnn-ie yes, it does. You want proof? Come sit on my lap you’ll see. I bet you’ll be able to feel me. I also bet my hand can wrap completely around your pretty throat.”
You giggled. “Okay, let’s see,” You hopped up and into Tae’s lap, his arm coming to rest around your waist. Baekhyun’s eyes grew wide with anger and annoyance until he just couldn’t take it anymore.
He jumped up, “Baby, we’re going home. Come on.”
“But we can’t go home! Tae here was about to put his hand around my throat and let me feel his dick.” Your eyes widened, and Tae looked at the two of you, a dumb drunk smile on his face.
“Um, no. That’s not happening. Let’s go.” He pulled you to your feet and away from the crowd while Tae looked away talking to Jimin.
“Baeeeeek, just a little while longer, I just want to feel Tae’s dick.”
“That’s real cute Y/n, come on. We’re going home.” Baek’s voice turned into a low growl, his anger evident in each word, and you felt your panties begin to wet. This was turning you on unbelievably.
“Come on Baek, baby, let me just try Tae. You know he’d treat me right.” You whined.
“Bitch, you think he can treat you right? Let’s go home. Right fucking now, and see who treats you right. We’re fucking going home.”
“We’re fucking while going home? Isn’t that dangerous?” Your eyes glinted playfully, while Baekhyun’s were slits, narrowed in thinly veiled anger and jealousy.
“Don’t you fucking play with me right now Y/n, I’ll take you right here, right now.
You looked at him, your face turning somber. Your eyes pierced his and two words slipped out of your mouth, deadly serious, “Do it.”
Baek’s eyes turned dark and hooded and he grabbed your arm, pulling you towards the back of the house, to the bedrooms. You stumbled after him, heat pooling between your legs. You liked jealous Baekhyun. You liked him very much. He glanced at the row of doors, peeking in each room, looking for a specific one, while you curled around his bicep, whining for attention.
“Baek, baby, come see how wet I am.”
“Just a second Princess, just looking for the right room… Ah, found it!” he pulled you into a room, and shoved you up against the closed door, coming in for the kill on your lips. He kissed you hotly and with passion, you could only moan. He pushed his hips against yours grinding his hard cock right up against your clothed pussy. “You were a naughty girl today princess. You need to be taught a lesson.” He murmured against your neck leaving blooming purple bruises as he marked you as his own. Each hot kiss turned you on further and further until he tongued at your earlobe and you let out the loudest moan.
“Yes princess, tell the world you belong to me.” Baekhyun’s voice was husky and deep, sending a jolt of arousal to your still clothed pussy. His hands slid up under your top, tugging it off and unclasping your bra, while you in turn unbuttoned his shirt to reveal his toned stomach. Everywhere his hands touched left your skin burning, you panting into his mouth wanting more, more, more. His hands grazed your thigh, lifting you up; you wrapped your legs around his waist. He walked you to the bed and laid you down, gazing at you with hooded eyes, his mussed hair just slightly falling into his eyes.
“You… are mine. Only mine, understand?” His growl took your breath away, and you simply whimpered under his deep gaze. He leaned down and gave you a small Eskimo kiss, the sweet gesture reminding you that he still loved you, even when you made him jealous beyond belief. His lips found your pulse point on your neck and kissed it gently, making you squirm under his ministrations. Leaving a trail of hot open mouthed kisses down your neck to the valley between your breasts before landing on your right nipple. He took it in his mouth nipping at it, tugging at it until it stood at attention and then turned to the left. He gave it the same care and traveled down further and further until he was right at the edge of your panties. He hooked his fingers around them and shimmied them down and off and flung them into the room at random.
“That’ll leave something for him to find” He growled angrily against your inner thigh. You just moaned and tangled your fingers in his hair, trying to find some relief.
“Baby, please,” You panted and tugged at Baekhyun’s hair, pulling him towards your dripping cunt, while his lips curled into a feral grin.
“Yeah baby? Now you want me. What happened to wanting Taehyung?” He growled and then spread open your nether lips, licking a long stripe from your pussy up to your clit. You writhed and gasped out, “No Tae, just you. Always you.”
“That’s right Jagi, this pussy belongs to me, and me alone. But that doesn’t mean you’ve learned your lesson.”
Your eyes, widened in surprise. You were in for a long night.
Baekhyun situated himself between your knees and licked another long stripe, drawing a long moan out of you. He pushed his tongue up against your pussy and started a toe-curling rhythm, pushing in and out of your pussy, one hand rubbing against your clit causing your orgasm to build slowly and steadily. He suddenly switched, his tongue lashing at your clit, two fingers toying with your inner lips while one hand held your body steady from all your squirming. Your chest heaved, the moans ripping from your throat until you gasped out, "Oh baby, I'm close. I'm so close."
Baek pushed his two fingers into you and your pussy clenched tightly, uncontrollably, around his digits and he knew you were fast approaching your release. Instantly, everything stopped. Baek stood up, moving away from your clit and your gasp was caught in your throat as your impending orgasm slowly backed down.
You looked up at him and pouted, a frown across your face.
"Good girls get to orgasm. You haven't been a good girl tonight."
You frowned, opening your mouth to argue, but Baekhyun put his thumb on your clit and pushed and your words turned into moans.
"Are you going to be a good girl for me tonight?"
You nodded as he pushed and flicked even more. Baekhyun smiled, his grin feral and went back down to your nether region, starting his ministrations again, satisfied for now. Your moans became loud, your pussy clenching again around his fingers, and you began anticipating another orgasm. This time though, he felt it coming before you could say anything and as you reached that precipice, he stopped again. You groaned in disagreement, clearly aware he was punishing you. You bit your lip to stop from letting out a snarky comment, hoping that if you stayed quiet he would finally let you cum.
He looked at your red, flushed, face, your bit lip, and your heaving breasts and smiled. "Beautiful. Are you learning your lesson baby?"
You nodded, but Baekhyun's fingers found your clit and he flicked it hard, making you almost thrash in pleasure.
"I need to hear you baby. Are you a good girl?"
"Yes Baek, yes baby," you panted out, "I'm a good girl. Only for you. Please let me cum."
He bucked against the bed at your whine, his cock hard as a rock, and again kneeled at your apex. Working so fast, he licked at your core, alternating fingers and tongue until you finally reached the precipice of your orgasm. In some part of you, you registered a bit of fear... he had been denying you your release all night, and you really, really wanted to come.
Like clockwork, your pussy began clenching again but this time Baekhyun didn't stop. He just started thrusting his fingers in harder and harder, with his tongue lashing at your clit unforgivingly. Your orgasm hit you like a train and finally, you fell over that edge to your release. You writhed, riding your orgasm, while he lapped at your cunt, your juices tasting like ambrosia. When you finally quieted down, he wiped his mouth and you smiled at him your eyes hazy.
Your eyes flickered down to his pants, the obvious tent, and the wet spot that had grown because of his precum. He was close too, your orgasm had brought him right to the edge of his. You scrambled up, your legs still weak and unbuttoned his pants, pulling them down with his boxers so you could get at his cock. It stood angrily at attention, red, turgid and huge, a bead of precum gathering at the head. You took it in your grasp, gave it a kitten lick right at the tip, and Baekhyun bucked into your hand, hissing. “No teasing Jagi.”
You licked the underside of his cock, before taking it in your mouth as deep as it would go. Baekhyun gathered your hair into his fist, pulling it out of the way before thrusting into your mouth again. You hollowed your cheeks and took him as deep as possible, trying not to choke before he pulled out, stopping you in your tracks.
“Darling, if you keep doing that, we won’t get to play for much longer.” He pulled you off his cock, and spread your legs, situating himself right at your entrance. Dragging his tip over your clit and through your juices, you watched as he played, coating himself in your pleasure and wished for more,
“Baby,” you whined, “fill me. Please, fill me. I need you... please, I feel empty...” But your pleas fell on deaf ears. Ignoring you, he continued playing with you, rubbing his thick member against your folds, never entering, forever teasing. Growing frustrated in your desperation for him, you tried to pull away, whining "If you just want to tease, maybe Taehyung..." Hearing his name, Baekhyun’s eyes immediately darkened, and before you could finish your sentence he sheathed himself in you, making you cry out at the unexpected stretch as he began to start a merciless rhythm.
“I’m going to fuck that name right out of you.” He pounded in and out, hitting that spot in you, making you see stars. He growled at every thrust, words clashing with your moans. “You are mine.��� Thrust. “This pussy is mine.” Thrust. “This body is mine.” Thrust. His hands found their way to your waist, clutching you firmly, leaving bruises to mark you further. His pace was so severe, the entire bed moved with him, pushing you against him even more. You were just stunned, caught up in unbelievable pleasure. You tried to get out words, but you could only manage moans. “This pussy was made for my cock. Look how I split it open.” He growled even more, the dirty words sending tingles down your spine, making you even wetter. He kept pushing into you, one hand snaking around to find your clit. He began flicking at it too, and quickly, ever so quickly, you began approaching your orgasm, creaming around his cock.
“Hnnng, Baek I- I’m cumming!” You screamed out, clenching uncontrollably. Baekhyun stilled inside you, trying his hardest not to come undone at your release.
As you came down from your high, he pushed back into you, starting his merciless pace again, pushing your limits doubly. You tried to close your legs, squirming at the oversensitivity and whined, trying to weakly push him away, but he clamped his hands down on your legs, pushing them up towards you, while he grinded into you even more. The uncomfortable feeling faded quickly, turning to earth shaking pleasure and Baekhyun started his dirty talking again.
“Take my cock. Like a good girl.”
You moaned back, “Oh god, Baek.” Almost impossibly, your orgasm began building again, hurtling you towards your edge. “Baby I’m- baby, baby please. I’m close,” 
This time he began moaning with you. “Fuck, fuck, fuck, baby. I’m going to cum too.” His finger found your clit and began fondling it, rubbing it back and forth. “Cum with me Jagi,” he growled out, his voice deep. As he pounded into you, you reached that point and you fell apart underneath him, mewling out his name, legs twitching as you rode your orgasm.
As he felt your pussy clench ever so tightly around his cock, his pace stuttered as he reached his high. “Baby,” he moaned deeply, bucking into you, painting your inner walls with his white cum as he finally reached his release.
He fell on top of you in relief, snuggling into your neck, kissing your pulse point as you both came down from your high. He rolled off of you, pulling out of you gently, while his cum dribbled out of you onto the sheets underneath. You sighed, eyes closed, completely sated, kissed his cheek and whispered, “Thank you Baek.”
He looked at your completely fucked out form laying there, and smirked, “Let’s see if Taehyung can even come close.”
You cracked open one eye and lifted your brow, “Does that mean I have permission to fuck him for comparison?” you joked, a smile playing on your face.
Baekhyun narrowed his eyes, “Absolutely fucking not. Do you need to be taught another lesson?” You giggled and pressed your lips to his, when the door slammed open.
“WHAT THE FUCK?!?” Taehyung screamed, his eyes wide in surprise. Baekhyun looked down at you, making sure you were at least semi covered and looked back up at Taehyung, a lazy smile playing on his face. “Did you need something dongsaeng?” Taehyung just stared at you and Baekhyun in shock. It didn’t take a genius to know what had happened. The room smelled of sex, your clothes were strewn about, and there was still cum running out of you onto his sheets. You thought Taehyung was definitely going to yell at you, but instead a slow wicked grin appeared on his lips. “Do you want a third?” Your eyes widened with a hint of wonder and mischief, but before you could open your mouth, Baekhyun squeezed your thigh, making you yelp, effectively shutting you up.
“Maybe next time, dongsaeng. Right now, we’re going to use your room and she’s going to be taught another lesson.” Your eyes widened in fear and you whimpered, your legs shaking in anticipation of the orgasms to come. You were in for a long night.
--
A/N: AHHHHH ITS DONE! ITS DONE! Let me know what you think! It is my first time writing actual full smut, so I’ll take constructive criticism or if you want to come just yell at me that’s all right too!
106 notes · View notes
cxgan · 6 years
Text
Kinktober 2018 Day 2: Begging & Watersports
SHIP: Cegan [Carl Grimes/Negan]
SUMMARY: FILTH. PURE UNADULTERATED FILTH. Companion to my fic Nicotine [modern!au, Carl and Negan in the kink community if you haven’t read it]. Set two years into their relationship. Carl is nasty and likes nasty things done to him and Negan is always happy to oblige.
WARNINGS: watersports (if you don’t know what that is please urban dictionary it and then proceed with caution), age gap (both over 18 tho)
W/C: 1743
A/N: @God I’m so sorry I have strayed so far from your light. loljk I’m not. I originally wasn’t going to put this in the cegan tag because I don’t want y’all to think I’m gross but then I decided ah fuck it. So just deal with my filth and if you don’t like it don’t read it.  ¯\_(ツ)_/¯ 
"Beg for it," Negan's voice echoed off the walls of the bathroom similar to the way it bounced between the spaces of Carl's ribs and filled up his lungs, suffocating him.
The Dominant had always had the ability to make Carl blush - it was something he was really quite proud of much to the boy's dismay... But it had been awhile since he had been able to reduce him to this much of a humiliated mess and the submissive could just tell that the older male was eating it right up. His ever present smug as hell grin was enough evidence of that. He supposed the older male had the right to be a little cocky in that moment - two years together had made it so Carl was very difficult to embarrass after hearing almost every piece of dirty talk Negan had in the book. He still flushed bright red at times and stammered when he didn't know what to say back, but this time... this time he truly was embarrassed instead of just putting on a cute show. Because this was different. This was dirty. And he wanted it.
And god damn it Negan was going to make him beg for it.
"Daddy, please, please don't make me say it," he grit out in a whine, ripping his gaze away from the other man when he couldn't handle looking into that arrogant expression anymore. He was too ashamed at the entire situation. "I already said I wanted to do it," he damn near whispered out. "Why do I have to beg?" The fact that he was naked, on his knees in the shower, bright red and achingly hard for what was to come was horrible enough.
"'Cause maybe I like hearin' that pretty little voice say all the nasty, filthy shit that I know goes on in that noggin'a yours." To emphasize his point, he leaned down and literally knocked on the top of Carl's head which made the boy shoot a daring glare up at him. "Oh boy, wouldn't look at me like that if I were you. Not in your position. I'll fuckin' make ya drink it if ya piss me off enough. Heh. Get it. Piss me off?" Carl would have shot him another glare for the stupid pun but was a little more scared of the ramifications so he kept his expressions to himself, opting to count the lines in the stone beneath his knees as a more solid distraction. "Now do what I fuckin' said."
"Please," Carl started, voice raw and wavering just a little bit. For a moment he almost considered pleading with the man again to not say it but he knew he had to if he was going to get what he wanted. He stared at the thick leather boots before him and gnawed at the inside of his bottom lip. "Give me..." he continued, nails digging into his flesh where his hands rested on his thighs. "Your... p-piss..." the last word was stuttered out, his voice barely above a whisper as he clenched his eyes shut. This was so humiliating. Wrong on so many levels. So why was his dick harder than ever where it rested flush up against his belly? He had been humiliated a lot over the last few years in the older male's company, but this... this was on a whole new level.
"Sorry, what? Couldn't quite hear ya there, sugar. You're gonna hafta speak up. And fuckin' look at me when you're talkin' - you know damn well I hate that shit."
Carl whined in frustration - a low, pathetic sound that forced it's way up his throat without warning. He steadied his breathing and tried to focus his vocal cords into properly working this time. He cleared his throat and finally opened his eyes to look up at his Dominant, trying his best not to glare at the smirk he was met with. "Please piss on me, Daddy," he said softly. It was louder this time, a little more sure of himself but no less embarrassed by what he wanted.
If it was possible for Negan's grin to grow it definitely did. Carl tried to hold back his whimper at the sound of the older man undoing his belt and jeans. "See, was that so hard, baby doll? All ya had to do was admit how much of a dirty fuckin slut you are and Daddy'll give ya what ya need." He tugged his half hard cock out of his underwear and the boy instinctively licked his lips, wiggling his ass in anticipation. Negan chuckled, stroking himself a few times just to tease the kid. "Gonna be a lot. I've been savin' it for ya." And if it was possible for Carl to turn a darker shade of red, he did.
"Here it comes," Negan grunted, positioning himself over the boy. The hot, yellowed stream of piss fell from the man's cock head like a god damn waterfall, and Carl whimpered when it struck his chest. It streamed down his torso, coating him in the wet warmth and his hand twitched against his thigh. Negan seemed to notice, though, and grunted out a quick, "Go on and touch it, boy." And almost immediately he wrapped said hand around his aching (and now dripping) cock.
Negan had been right, there was... a lot. So much that Carl was surprised it was still coming (not that he was complaining). It was so wrong. So dirty and horrible on so many levels but that just turned Carl on more. He pumped himself eagerly as the stream continued to splash against his chest and trickle downward, covering his hand and cock in the process before dripping off of him and sliding down the drain.
The humiliation of it all was overwhelming. He had never felt more filthy in his entire life than he did in that moment, jerking off like a fucking teenager while his Dominant relieved himself all over him. "Yeah, you love this shit, don'tcha, kid? Fuckin' nasty. My dirty little slut, playin' with his teeny cock while Daddy pisses all over him." Carl moaned at his words, and without much thought or warning his head fell forward and the stream was directed toward the top of his head, soaking into his hair and dripping down his face when he finally looked back up. "Oh, Jesus Christ!" Negan exclaimed, clearly shocked that the boy had gone so far. Carl was a bit shocked he did it himself but as the liquid hit him in the face (his eyes now closed, of course) and the scent and feeling took over him he almost came and had to rip his hand away from his dick to stop it. He bucked his hips up and whined at the loss of contact. "You really are a fuckin' dirty whore, god damn, baby. You're fuckin' disgusting - hard as hell and moaning like a little bitch cause I'm pissin' on your face - fuck." The stream faltered for a second and Negan grunted, causing the boy to open his eyes and look up at him curiously. "I ain't done. Open your mouth."
Carl gave him a sharp look followed by one of hesitancy. Yeah, he was gross, but he didn't know if he was that gross. Negan chuckled. "You ain't gotta swallow it - not yet at least - but c'mon, you just made me piss on your face. Ya can't tell me you don't wanna taste it." Maybe it was curiosity that had him slowly opening his mouth, maybe it was the fact he just trusted the man above him with everything he was. Regardless of what compelled him to do it, he closed off his throat and braced himself for what was to come.
The stream that started up was slower than before, and the moment his mouth was filled up he spat it out rather harshly, coughing and gagging. He didn't know if it was the taste or the action that he thought was more vile but whatever the case he spit it out as soon as he could. Negan, the useless prick, laughed above him. "Aw, c'mon, sugar, it ain’t that bad." Carl glared at him and wiped his mouth off. "You'll get used to it." He was met with a sultry wink that had his stomach flip flopping at the prospect.
The older man finished himself off on Carl's chest and the boy resumed his furious pumping of his own cock. Exhaling in relief, Negan tucked himself back in his jeans and Carl was a bit disappointed he didn't have his dick to look at anymore. "Can I...?" Carl managed to get out, slumping to the side and pressing his head into the stone wall of the shower. He was literally dripping with urine, that fact both making him a little nauseous and spurring him on even more.
Negan ignored him and walked in place a few times, his boots squelching. "Fuck, this is disgusting." He bent over and with practiced hands undid his boots in under a minute, stepping out of them and out of the shower itself to protect his socked feet. "Cum on those," he gestured toward the boots he left next to the boy. "And then clean the fuck out of them. First with your mouth, then with whatever. I don't give a fuck. If you do a good enough job there might be a reward. And then take a fuckin' shower." Carl was nodding along like a damn robot, less focused on what he was instructed to do and more on the fact he had been given permission to cum. On Negan's boots, nonetheless. And then lick them clean. Was he in heaven? Probably.
"Be a good boy, and then come find me when you're done. Alright?"
He was a bit sad the man wasn't staying for the show but at this point he wanted him to leave so he could get on with it. "Yes, Daddy," he grit out, grip tightening around his cock.
The shower door slowly closed but it opened one last time last minute. "And Carl?" The boy looked up, eyes glossy and biting his bottom lip. "I always knew you were secretly a piss slut." And with that he shut the door, leaving the boy to almost immediately start cumming and yelping when he almost missed his target.
TAGGING: NO ONE OMFG I am not subjecting my readership to this filth if they do not want to read it. k thx.
33 notes · View notes
elspethsunschampion · 7 years
Photo
Tumblr media
Thanks to @zomburai I commissioned this picture (which y’all you should 100% commission him for like everything he’s super talented and the nicest person EVER) and it matches up with a fic I wrote a while back SO HERE Y’ALL GO HAVE FUN.
                                             Coalition Victory
           It was over. Gideon wiped a sweaty brow, and then found himself sitting down, as his legs had decided they were no longer actually able to carry him anymore. How long had the Gatewatch been fighting? Hours, at least; it felt like days. But they’d done. They’d saved Ravnica.
           Niv-Mizzet, parun of the Izzet, drooping, bleeding from a dozen injuries, was curled up in the center of the square in front of New Prahv, while Selesnyans and Izzet alike fussed over him. There was blood on his jaws and a very satisfied smirk on his face; Gideon could hardly begrudge him that. He had been the one to deal the final blow, after all.
           Gideon’s head was aching, foggy with exhaustion, but he needed to check on the rest of the Gatewatch. He was their leader, and in the last few confused minutes, he’d lost track of everyone. As Nicol Bolas had risen, magic crackling from every pore, above the cityscape, as Gideon had thought for certain that even with nearly all of Ravnica working together, they were doomed—something had happened, Gideon still wasn’t sure what. He’d felt something like a static shock in his brain, heard an exclamation from Jace, and the mental connection between the Gatewatch had snapped. Moments later, Niv-Mizzet had burst from the roof of Nivix, barreling directly toward Bolas, and the machine Bolas had Tezzeret and Zarek working on had overloaded.
           It was the first time Gideon had seen Bolas shaken, and he had used that confusion to full effect, rallying the Boros and Azorius soldiers around him into one final charge against Bolas’s forces, breaking through their central line. Above them, the two dragons had fought, and, somehow, impossibly, Niv-Mizzet had won. Niv-Mizzet had won.
           After their loss on Amonkhet, Gideon had despaired. Bolas was so far beyond them in terms of power and intelligence—how could ever have thought they’d be able to stand up against him? But with Ravnica in danger, he’d had to fight. He knew that Jace would die to protect his plane, and Gideon wouldn’t let his friend die alone. And now—
           “Mage Jura, are you injured?” It was Lavinia, calm and collected as ever, although her cap was ripped and the side of her face matted with congealing blood.
           Gideon shook his head. “No, merely exhausted.” Staggering back to his feet took an effort. “Are—are you—”
           “It will keep,” Lavinia said. “There are others with worse wounds. I am attempting to organize triage.”
           She was always at their side, Gideon thought distractedly, the most loyal friend he could ever have imagined. “Lavinia,” he said hoarsely, and before he realized what he was going to say he had already said it, “may I kiss you?”
           For a moment, Lavinia blinked, her expression blank, and then a smile broke across her face like the sun rising. “I think I would quite enjoy kissing you,” she said, and she leaned forward. Gideon had no time to react before he found one hand on her shoulder and one hand on her waist; Lavinia’s hands rested on the front of his broad chest. She was tall, though not as tall as Gideon, but he didn’t have to bend far to reach her lips.
           Their mouths moved against one another for one long, sweet, breathless moment, before Lavinia pulled back, eyes bright. “I have to keep organizing the triage,” she said, “but perhaps we can continue this conversation later?”
           “Please,” Gideon said hoarsely, wiping the sweat from his forehead and tottering sideways. Then, “Lavinia—have you seen the rest of the Gatewatch?”
           “Chandra is with Nissa. I’m afraid Nissa’s leg is rather badly broken, but she will be all right once the healers have time to reach her. Ajani has been helping me organize the triage. I—I don’t know where Jace is. I haven’t seen him in hours.”
           Nor had Gideon. Before the battle had begun, the mind mage had said, “it will be better for everyone if no one knows where I am,” and vanished, although he had been close enough to coordinate things mentally nearly the entire time. “I’ll find him,” Gideon said. “I promise, I’ll—”
           There was a commotion in the center of the square. Zarek—the Izzet mage who had been working for Bolas—was dragging himself exhaustedly across the field of battle. In one hand, he held something long and silver that glinted orange in the light of the dying sun. His clothes were singed and ragged, and his head was drooping. Anger surged through Gideon, and he reached for his surral, but before he could do any more than take a minute motion in the traitor’s direction, he heard Jace’s voice.
           “Ral!” And for the first time in hours, Jace appeared. His arrival was heralded by nothing more than a slight flicker in the air, and it occurred to Gideon that Jace hadn’t been very far away at all; the whole time, he had probably been lurking on the fringes of the battle under cover of invisibility. Despite the fact that he had presumably not engaged in much physical combat, he had not escaped unscathed. There was mud caked up to his knees, and several dark stains decorated the arms and torso of his usually spotless blue tunic, which Gideon thought worriedly might very well be blood. Beside that, Jace’s face beneath his nose was half-hidden beneath a layer of bright red blood, twin heavy tracks originating at his nose and daubing his cheeks, mouth, and chin, and, even from here, Gideon could see that his face was chalk-white. But he was grinning from ear to ear.
           Even as Gideon watched, Jace raced across the cobblestones toward Zarek, who had turned as soon as he heard Jace’s cry, reflexively dropping the thing he was holding. Gideon’s mouth dropped open as Jace leaped off the ground and into Zarek’s arms, their lips meeting in a sudden, desperate kiss. Zarek swung him around and broke the kiss, but only for Jace to start kissing every inch of the Izzet mage’s face he could reach.
           Still a little concerned and rather confused, Gideon trotted in their direction, reaching Jace’s side in time to hear his friend half-sobbing, “Mother of storms, we did it, Ral, we really—really—we actually did it!”
           The thing that Zarek had dropped was an arm. Made of some kind of bright, intricate metalwork, it seemed oddly familiar, but it was a long moment before Gideon could place it. Tezzeret. It was Tezzeret’s arm, marked with filth and blood on both ends; this close Gideon could see that the front of Zarek’s tunic had been shredded, and he was bleeding from several long, parallel lacerations.
           Gideon cleared his throat. Although Jace deserved as much privacy as he could possibly handle, it was probably better at this point to clear up any lingering confusion or doubts over Zarek’s role in the recent battle. “Um,” Gideon said. “Jace?”
           Zarek let Jace stumble back down into a standing position, although the two of them continued to lean against one another in a deeply intimate fashion. “I’m sorry I couldn’t tell you,” Jace said. “I—I couldn’t protect all of the minds of the Gatewatch against Bolas, it was as much as I could do to shield me and Ral. Um, Ral, this is Gideon.”
           “Yeah, I think we’ve run into each other on occasion,” the Izzet mage drawled. “Literally. His fist was in my face a few days ago, remember?” So that was how Zarek had gotten away. The Gatewatch had raided his lab and captured him, and a few hours later, he’d been gone again, leaving behind a mind mage who swore he’d only taken his eyes off him for a few seconds. Gideon chuckled. “So, Jace, when you said he’d overpowered you—”
           Jace grinned shamefacedly. “I guess I wasn’t trying all that hard to fight back. Gideon, meet Ral Zarek, Izzet scientist, and the absolute best undercover boyfriend a Guildpact could have.”
           “You realize that’s going to be incredibly complicated now, right?” Zarek grumbled. “Did you have to kiss me in front of half of Ravnica, including Niv?”
           “Yup.” Jace leaned sideways and kissed him again. “I mean, yes, I did, this should take care of at least some of the dirty looks people are going to be giving you.”
           “So I get to trade assassination attempts on account of being Bolas’s stooge for ones on account of being your lover? Sounds fantastic.” But Zarek’s arm hadn’t left Jace’s waist.
           “Good to meet you,” Gideon said. “I suppose this makes you the newest member of the Gatewatch.”
           Zarek rolled his eyes. “It’s such a stupid name,” he grumbled. “I mean, what do you think the gates are going to do if you don’t watch them? Run off? Besides, I’ve been a member since before Ajani, you just didn’t know about it.”
           “That’s not when our plan started, is it?” Jace objected. “Hm. Maybe it is. I’m not sure, we’ll have to compare notes.”
           “At any rate, good to have you on the team,” Gideon said with a smile. “Although I’m going to want a full report on what just happened. Maybe not for another few days, though.”
           “Ugh. Jace, you can handle that.”
           “Oh, as if I’m not going to be swimming in paperwork? Thanks, Ral.”
           “If you do it, I’ll—” Zarek leaned down and murmured something in Jace’s ear, and the Guildpact went dark red from ear to ear.
           “O-Okay,” he said. “I suppose I can put something together.”
           “I think I’d better go help Lavinia with the triage,” Gideon said. “I’m glad to see you’re mostly all right, Jace. Maybe see a healer later, though, both of you?”
           Zarek glanced across the square at where Niv Mizzet still lay sprawled. “I think I’m going to take an off-plane vacation until that paperwork exonerating me comes through,” he said. “Jace—”
           “I can pop back in and file it tomorrow or something,” Jace said. “Gideon, you don’t think that will be a problem?”
           Gideon shook his head. “There will be a mountain of it to process. I’ll let Lavinia know where you are—where are you going?”
           “I’m thinking Kaladesh?”
           “Yeah,” Zarek agreed. “I’ve got friends there, we can get healed up and take a nice break with some artifacts. Artifacts that aren’t trying to kill us sound nice for a change.” With some viciousness, he kicked the metal arm on the ground beside them.
           “I’ll see both of you soon, then,” Gideon said, giving them both another warm smile and a nod. Wiping the sweat off of his forehead, he glanced across to see that Chandra had caught sight of Zarek and was standing up from where she had been crouched beside Nissa. “I’d—better go handle Chandra,” he said hurriedly. “Take care of each other.”
           “Oh, we will,” Zarek said, with a lazy grin. “Come on, Jace.”
           As Gideon set off at a low jog, he felt, for a brief moment, the heat-cold of the Eternities at his back. Well, he hadn’t seen that coming, but it had all worked out for the best. Out of the corner of his eye, he caught sight of a glimmer of cerulean, and he turned to see Lavinia giving him a smile and a wave. Yes, it had all worked out for the best.
25 notes · View notes
wasabi-duck · 7 years
Text
prince jungkook
Tumblr media
okay everyone i have requests piling on up but good old clinical mental health problems™ are kind of yikes
but royalty au is my FAVORITE you have no idea like it's my fave au besides ouran but like au ohdaibljarh i love it
jungkook is leo lmao jk
so this kingdom is going to be a total rip off of nohr because i love my emo son leo and his dumb retainers
jungkook is the baby of his family, the youngest lil prince in the castle
he's kind of spoiled rotten honestly because his older brothers absolutely adore him, and they shower him in more attention than he knows what to do with
like he could bat an eyelash and hoseok would be at his side, asking if he needed anything
whenever he wants to practice his sparring, yoongi immediately stops whatever they're doing to help with bow and arrow practice or sword skills
jimin ALWAYS sneaks him pastries and buns from the kitchen
speaking of which pineapple buns?? ten out of ten would recommend
and while the princes are beautiful and kind and soft the kingdom itself is not
it's a dark kingdom, a rainy kingdom, where the sun rarely seems to shine
the main focus of the kingdom is agriculture, even though that's always a bust because of the terrible climate
they really make more money through weapon sales and trade all that good stuff
even though the kingdom is kind of tight on money yikes
but it's not like falling to shambles, not at all
the king runs a very tight schedule, and things are very organized, very controlled, very well run
yoongi is next in line for the throne, but the king totally favors jungkook and low key tries to give him more power than the other princes
but jungkook doesn't want that!! he just wants to chill with all his brothers and have a good time!!
okay let's get on with the story because i had a quality idea and boy howdy i sure forget things fast
alright, so the princes are making one of their daily visits to the town
but disguised, because things are no fun when everyone is bowing and trying to kiss your feet
cliche--- but i love it--- they have the really large cloaks and they just keep the cowls up because that would totally work
lol it does in this scenario
they love to look at the local produce, drink cheap ale at the local tavern, play tag with the local kids, and just interact with their people
not something the king does everyday lmao
today, it's rather cold, and jungkook can see that winter is coming by the way frost crawls up the trunks of trees, the way the birds have already started flying south, the way more and more shops close their doors to ward off the wintery winds
the boys still like to visit around town though
jungkook especially loves seeing the transformed landscape
as the youngest prince, he's usually cooped up indoors, listening to his tutor drone on about the influence of naval power upon the world, or balancing books on his head to maintain great posture or some other bs
so he loves being outside to see the pond freeze over, or the dirt start to be painted white due to the little snowflakes
he doesn't like seeing so many people so worried about their futures though
like i said, poorer kingdom, so most of the people suffer through the cold months with one blanket for a family of five, and half a loaf of bread amongst them
jungkook always tries to give people money, but yoongi tells him that's only temporary aid and he will make changes once he's in power
that doesn't ease the hurt in jungkook’s heart though
anyway they're in town right, and the middle two boys have gone off to god knows where, leaving yoongi and jungkook to themselves
they're in the middle of town, strolling amongst the various vendors, examining all the goods made available to them
out of the corner of his eye, he watches someone dart towards the bakers cart
there's a loud crash and jungkook spins around to see you on the ground, loaf of bread tucked under your arm
someone starts shouting and you push yourself off the ground, trying to desperately run for your life
a few soldiers start chasing after you and you're running fast, so fast, you don't pay attention to your surroundings and completely slam into jungkook, causing you to once again fall on your butt
one of the soldiers grabs your a and yanks you to your feet
“common filth like you ought to spend the rest of your days in prison, rotting away until the rats-”
“that's enough.” jungkook snaps
“and who are you to tell me what to do?” the guard laughs
jungkook throws off his hood and the guards immediately fall to their knees, begging mercy
jungkook gives you a soft smile, then devotes his attention to the guards
“how DARE you touch my servant like that.”
“your highness, you must be mistaken, this is a common criminal-”
“no, they are my servant, chosen by me to trust the security of this place. you know our enemies could attack whenever and wherever, and i need you to be on your best watch. clearly, you passed my simple test, and you shall be rewarded for it.” jungkook says, haughty tone to his voice.
he pulls a few coins from his change purse and tosses them to the baker
yoongi watches on silently, thinking of all the various ways he's going to beat jungkook’s insolent little ass tonight
you're shaking, badly, and you can't believe you were just saved by one of the princes, let alone the cutest one
jungkook turns on his heel to leave, and you're like oh gods i need to thank him--
he turns his head “why are you just standing there? no servant of mine should be wasting time, gaping like a complete idiot.”
yoongi: boy what the f u c k
and that's where you find yourself later that evening, standing in jungkook’s room, freshly washed up and dressed in an outfit finer than anything you've seen, let alone worn in your entire life
“i've never had a servant close to my age.” jungkook is sitting on the edge of his bed, kicking his legs back and forth. “this will be fun i think. you're bound to be infinitely better than the boring old ladies that watch over me.”
you're too frightened to speak, so you stand there silently, shoulders tensed, eyes wide, hands clasped in front of you, trying to look anywhere but jungkook
“well come on, aren't you going to tell me your name?”
and so you do, sheepishly, so quiet that jungkook has to ask again
he nods when he finally hears you and then he kinda gets silent because yes he's the prince but he's kind of shy when it actually comes down to talking to people close to him in age
he starts kicking his legs again and then he gives you a quick look over
“well i guess i'll have to find someone to train you…” he says with a sigh
and you're like excuse me what you're the one who picked me off the street honey
but you can’t actually say that to him because like that shiz could get you beheaded or something and that is not what you need in life oh no
so you just kind of follow behind silently as he leads you off to where all the royal butlers and maids hang out and do their training mm hmmm
and when jungkook leads you in everyone is like ooh what’s up with the prince ooh look at the lil cutie he’s brought in
and they’re all like old so they can tease him like that because they practically raised this boy??
jungkook gets all red and he starts to stammer how it’s not like that and how he just wanted someone closer in age to serve him
and he just is like gotta blast sorry everyone
and so he leaves right away, not even giving you a good bye
you blink and all the servants swarm you, asking how you got jungkook to fall in love with you so quickly and you’re like in love what does that meaN
after all their inspecting and gossip about you, they actually get down to business about what you gotta do for jungkook as his new personal maid/butler
it seems simple
you have to accompany him to all his meetings, whether they be negotiations, tutoring lessons, or even dinner
you’re supposed to stay back and be like a shadow, just keeping an eye in case the dearest prince should ever need something
you also have to serve him tea in the afternoons, or at least, know how to
you need to help him dress in the morning and at first you’re like red in the face, sweating nervously, stuttering because what???
but the servants tell you that this job is only for really formal occasions, like when foreign princes and princesses come to visit and jungkook is too impatient to figure out how to wear his sash smh
basically you have to attend to his every need and you’re like great, i cannot wait, i’m ecstatic
or maybe, every time you touch, you feel the static (w/jungkook) and that’s why you’re so excited mm hmm
rijijaijajirt anyway
you’re super nervous especially since you just came off the streets, literally, like you have no social status or skills or ability to actually serve jungkook well
you’re like i will be beheaded within five days
you get the rundown on the whole thing, the whole job thing
and then the servants take you down to the servants’ quarters so you can set up a bed and sleep early so you’re well rested for the big day tomorrow
you set up a little spot in the corner of your room, and you’re like alright, i just need to sleep and maybe i’ll realize this is all a dream
nah fam
it’s not
because in burst jungkook, forlorn and confused look on his face
the servants are all rushing to bow and like ask what the deal is because royalty are so above entering the servants’ quarters (save hoseok who likes to come down every morning and say hi)
and jungkook points at you all accusing “aren’t you coming back? it’s been like three hours, you’re supposed to be back”
you look around at all the servants because “y’all just said i could sleep”
but they shrug and start to shoot each other looks and you realize that it’s ‘me against the world’
wow getting all the iconic songs in here tonight
you try to hide yourself in the corner but jungkook has obviously spotted you and he gives you this look
“i need your assistance, isn’t that your job? to assist me?”
you inwardly groan but give a nod of the head because this boy did save your life, you kinda owe him big time
“come on then!”
jungkook turns on his heel and you follow close behind, the other servants giving you winks and grins as you walk by
jungkook takes you back to his room and you’re like what it is late and i am tired and-
he just plops down on his bed and crosses his legs criss cross apple sauce and smiles all cute and you feel your heart start to stir at the innocence of him
“i want you to read to me.”
“you what now.”
“are you questioning me?”
“i mean, of course. which book your highness?”
jungkook points to one over on his night stand and you pick it up and inwardly stab yourself because it’s a history book about famous battles of lost kingdoms
jungkook looks so excited though and his eyes light up and you’re like oh my god fine…
you don’t know where to stand though and you kind of stand there awkwardly and open the book but it feels like you’re preaching to him or something
jungkook rolls his eyes and scoots over on the huge canopy bed and pats the now empty space beside him
“when i was little, my brothers would always read to me. yoongi was the worst. he always spoke all monotone and he would tell me horror stories and i would cry and then jimin would have to calm me down. yoongi is mean.”
when you don’t take the seat, he turns his head “i command you sit next to me.”
so you take a reluctant seat beside him with the heavy book still in your arms, doing your best not to look over at jungkook because you know that it’s wrong to look royalty in the eye let alone touch them
or like, idk, sit on their bed
while they are also sitting on the said bed
“hoseok was the best at reading. whenever he would read me fairy tales, he would change voices for all the characters!! he would always make them so exciting and give everything a happy ending…”
“so you have three brothers then?” you ask slowly, knowing that you’re not supposed to address jungkook so… familiarly
“three. i’m the baby. me and hoseok have the same mom, so maybe that’s why he likes me the most.” jungkook turns to face you. “but yoongi is the only son of the actual queen. so he’s the one who’s next in line obviously. he’s the one who was out with me! he likes me a lot too. jimin likes me too.”
“everyone likes you it seems.”
“i hope so.”
you two fall silent but it’s not really uncomfortable, just wary, because you two are in very distinct and separate roles that should never ever be more than a prince and servant, like they shouldn���t ever grow beyond that
but jungkook seems so… genuine? he saved your life and he treats you like an equal already, going as far to talk to you so openly about his family and everything? amazing, what a hero
anyway monsta x hero japanese version actually flows very nicely and you can tell they put a lot in time into making the japanese work with the music and beat so check it out my dudes
also anyone trying to go their concert…
okay anyway you start reading and it’s the most boring and dry thing you have ever read in your entire freaking life and you just wanna fall asleep but jungkook seems pretty fascinated so you keep going for his sake
it’s really pretty bad like you have no idea what pineapples have to do with warfare but they’re a pretty key role in this book
jungkook is practically leaning on your shoulder now because he wants to see all twenty seven of the pictures and he’s so excited by them
“it’s because, since i won’t have to get married because our kingdom pisses everyone off, i’ll probably be commander of the army or something. when yoongi steps down i mean. because he’s the one who has to be married, because he’s the only non-bastard son, ya know?”
you glance over at him “but aren’t you scared?”
“no. i live on adrenaline.”
and as you serve jungkook more and more you find that to be true
jungkook does whatever he wants whenever he wants
like one day you’re bringing him the afternoon tea and he’s busy messing around with his loyal doggy that you have to be like “yO YOUR HIGHNESS”
“you can just call me jungkook you know”
he’s bored and wants someone to spar? well it’s time to hop on yoongi’s bed and smash him until he can’t breathe
it’s cold in the castle? time to go and steal all of hoseok’s clothes? (which often end up having to be mended because hoseok is so thin and jungkook is so muscular that… rip (get it because he’s ripped, and the clothes rip…)
where did all of jimin’s dessert pastries go? oh wait they’re stuffed in jungkook’s cheeks
most of your days are spent trying to keep jungkook out of trouble rather than actually helping him do anything
jungkook doesn’t do it to be mischievous or anything, it’s mostly because he wants the attention of his older brothers who are all suddenly too busy to pay much attention to him anymore
he doesn’t actually say that but you can tell
he keeps interrupting literally anything they do and yes they love jungkook but it’s hard to work when he’s disrupting everything
jungkook ends up being such a disturbance that he ends up in solitary confinement
seriously
the king has done had it with jungkook, which is rare, and he tells him he needs to stay in his room until he learns how to behave
jungkook whines and complains but then he figures out you’re basically trapped with him so he’s pretty okay
“chess?’ is the first thing he suggests
“is the purpose to get rid of the king?”
and instead of screaming nOOoOOoooOOooooooOOOoo like casey, the resident asshole of my math class, he offers to teach you how to play since you two have like all the time in the world
all the time in the world being until dinner later that evening
you two sit down in the spacious room and he sets up the chess board
the pieces are glass, and they’re so intricate and beautifully carved and you’re so scared that you might break them or something but jungkook reassures you that everything will be okay and that they would want to be used
he tosses you your queen or king and with a wink goes “wow look the chess piece that represents you”
“wow, did jimin teach you that one?”
“yoongi actually”
“wow, impressive”
you can’t help but blush as you set up your pieces though
you still have no idea how to play though, and you sit there kind of dumbly as jungkook poises, ready to move his first piece
“oh, how could i forget?”
he starts going over all the pieces, and how many spaces they can move and how, and how the game actually works and i’m not actually sure because nobody would answer me in math today smh
but then
then he grabs your hand and delicately guides your fingers to move your first piece and now your heart is racing and your face must be red as the draping over his bed but you try to keep it cook because servants can’t just up and fall in love with their princes, that’s not allowed
oops too late i guess…
jungkook is bad at chess because he’s impatient and he doesn’t really like to take much time planning his moves
which is okay in your book because he likes it’s cute to see him get worked up and puff his cheeks out when you take out one of his pieces
i have the ap language exam tomorrow wait a second
he complains and whines and tells you that you’re cheating by distracting him but he just doesn’t like to lose
but he wants you to win because your eyes light up and you get all smiley when you take another one of his pieces and wow he is in love
he is in like, love is a big commitment and hoseok already warned him that their father would be furious if jungkook fell for you, even if he is the favorite son
jungkook told hoseok that nothing like that would ever happen but lol here we are my dudes, here we are
after you crush jungkook in chess, he decides that the next best thing to do to win his honor back is play you in dice
which he also loses at because he likes seeing your smile too much and his honor is something he’s willing to sacrifice if you’re happy in the end
“i’m so sad that i lost, maybe you should make it up to me.” jungkook pouts, flinging himself onto his bed dramatically soon afterward
“well what did you have in mind?”
“tell me a story.”
so you walk over to his bookcase, the one full of tales of old, and reach out to grab the history of war for what has to be the millionth time
but jungkook stops you with a soft, “no, from your head.”
like so many times before he pats the empty seat beside him, and you take your seat, snuggling you back up to the fluffy pillows
you take a deep breath and begin
“there once was a prince in a far away kingdom, with dragons and warlocks and pegauss knights. he was youthful and bright, with eyes like a deer and the curiosity of one too. he had the sweetest smile and the chubbiest cheeks and his nose was too big for his face, but in an endearing, adorable sort of way. the prince was adored by everyone, from his father, to his brothers, to the townspeople. everyone had heard of his skill with a sword, his knowledge of the worlds around him, but mostly his kindness that stretched even to the most lowly of people.”
you expect jungkook to say something saucy in remark but he listens with rapt attention, his gaze focused on you and you alone
“the prince loved everyone, but he couldn’t seem to ever find it in his heart to believe in himself.”
you know this to be true about jungkook
you’ve watched him spend countless hours sparring, and then beating himself up about messing up one move out of seven million, then pick his sword back up to practice once again
you see him as he preens and preps to dress more like yoongi, to walk more like hoseok, to converse more like jimin in the most subtle ways possible
he constantly finds things about himself to pick apart, and it breaks your heart
“the prince was always so busy caring for others, that he forgot to care for himself.”
jungkook rests his head on your shoulder and inhales slowly
you take a deep breath
you close your eyes
and then you take your hand in his, intertwining your fingers
jungkook gives your hand a tight squeeze
the story continues, and then the story soon ends, though jungkook has fallen asleep on your shoulder and will not hear of how the prince and his ever loyal servant end up with the happiest of endings
“and they lived happily ever after.” you whisper, leaning down and kissing the top of his head
you don’t remember drifting off but you sure as heck do, because the next thing you hear is hoseok’s shrieking
like shrieking as in he probably get stabbed and the castle is under attack
you go to get up but there is an arm around your torso and a face buried in your back and you’re finally piecing everything together
“jungkook, you gotta let go-”
another horrified shriek from hoseok
“i mean your highness------”
hoseok runs over to the two of you and shakes jungkook awake
“hurry up, if you two are in love which by the looks of it, you are, there’s only a limited amount of time that i can marry you before father finds out. i may not be ordained, but i could bullshit my way through it”
jungkook pushes himself up groggily and stares down at you because what are you doing here??
oh wait a second
hoseok is pulling at both of your arms but it’s too late, in walks the king, with jimin and yoongi pulling at his arms to try and stop him
the king stares at the scene, at hoseok trying to block to you, at jungkook yawning with his arm still around your waist, at your absolutely horrified face
“jungkook”
“father no, wait-”
“this isn’t your battle to fight hoseok, now leave”
“father, pl-”
“i said LEAVE”
the other three princes scurry out and now it’s just you, jungkook, and the king
he’s an intimidating man, muscular as jungkook, but with a hard face and sharp features
you and jungkook rush to stand up and bow, you avoiding his gaze at all costs
the king walks over and commands you both to stand
you’re trembling now and jungkook holds onto your hand in an attempt to somehow reassure you, but it’s not happening because you feel like you’re about to break down in tears now
the king won’t say anything and it seems like time has frozen completely
but then he pulls jungkook into his arms and hugs him tightly
you’re both in shock to say the least
the king hugs jungkook tighter “my precious son, how you’ve grown”
and then the king pulls you into his arms and now it’s a family hug and you’re wondering why this is happening and how he is okay with this but then you remember that jungkook’s mother was a maid
and suddenly things are starting to make more sense
“father, i… i love them”
“as i’ve noticed my boy.”
jungkook nods and you can see the tears in his eyes, and you can see the tears in his father’s eyes
“i remember when you were first born… you were so small, so helpless… now look at you, pulling the same tricks i did when i first met your mother.”
he ruffles jungkook’s hair and now all of you are laughing softly, at ease at the way the situation played out
hoseok pokes his head in the door “so when’s the wedding?”
yes, there is a wedding
a grand and beautiful wedding to which the entire kingdom is invited to attend
complete with thousands and thousands of flowers
with a giant cake that jimin keeps trying to swipe icing off of
with hoseok sobbing his eyes out and continually trying to pull jungkook into a tight and bone-crushing hug
with yoongi being the one who volunteers to walk you down the aisle
and yes, jungkook is too impatient to figure out just how to put his suit on correctly, sash and all
your hands are shaking as you fix the crown atop his head
and your hands are shaking hours later when he slips the silver band onto your finger
and yes, they are still shaking when you cup his face in your hands and lean in for your first kiss with the boy you are going to spend the rest of your life with
197 notes · View notes