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#M Shadows x reader
random-imagines-blog · 11 months
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Imagine being a werewolf, pregnant with triplets, married to M, and the full moon is coming.
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Twisting and turning, all of this shapeshifting was hell on your back, especially during the full moon nights when it absolutely could not be helped. Being in your third trimester was hard enough, but turning into a heavily pregnant wolf with a litter was even worse. Yelps and howls came from you during the whole process, which brought your husband nearer to you. Matt, who had promised he was going to give you the pups that you always wanted, had done exactly what he had intended to do.
You finally finished the transformation and laid down on the grass in the woods near the trailer park. You were panting already, just from the exertion. The pups inside of you - they changed too, and it was one of the most excruciating things that you could feel. You survived it, month after month, but not without cursing out Matt for putting them into you in the first place.
Triplets.
It just had to be triplets.
At least there was no one else around to hear  your pain. You and Matt changed separate from the pack, since things felt so weird while being pregnant. You felt bloated and ugly and your ankles were swollen, even as a wolf, you could swear that they looked bigger. You looked up at your husband’s large form, a true Alpha, and he began to lick your face with his long rough tongue. Tonight could be the night. They could always come early. And because of that, he was going to stay next to you throughout the night rather than join the hunts. His wolf form lumbered down, protecting you from at least one side, while keeping his eyes on the other. It did have a way of making you feel safe. And loved.
And oddly, you couldn’t wait to get pregnant again.
Requested by: Anonymous Followup to: Feral Roots
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the-unforgivenn · 10 months
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chapter one sampler — and i need you to know
why not? 😏❤️
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late-to-the-fandom · 2 years
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It's just Renathal/Maw Walker smut. Rated E for you know. Read here on Ao3 for triggers and tags
Takes place a few days after The Harvester of Dominion.
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Footsteps echoed down the stone corridor, and Renathal stopped mid-thrust, making the Maw Walker whimper and wriggle against him.  He snaked an arm over her shoulder and held his hand against her mouth, just hard enough to muffle her sounds of need before moving his hips against hers again. 
In hindsight, this was a dangerous time and place to do this: up against the wall in the room the Maw Walker took as her own in the depths of Sinfall, when it was openly known she was there. The Maw Walker always had a steady stream of visitors looking for help or advice or simply her company, and her room, unlike Renathal's, was near Sinfall's main hall and easy to access.
Renathal knew all this, knew they would have no privacy. But it had been nearly a week since he'd last had his hands on his Maw Walker and his patience had been threadbare, hers nonexistent. She had thrown herself into his arms the moment the door was shut behind him, and the discovery that she was equally as frantic after their longest separation yet drove any thought of propriety - or practicality - from Renathal's head.  And once they had started, Renathal could not bring himself to pull out of her long enough to make the move to her bed; stopping altogether to adjourn to his own, more private quarters was out of the question. The sight of her beautifully curved ass thrusting back to meet him and the dip in her back as she arched up against the wall was too mesmerising for any other thoughts.
But the other denizens of Sinfall clearly had many other thoughts, and the steps were obviously headed this way. There was an unspoken agreement between them to keep their trysts secret, and even if there was not, Renathal was sure the Maw Walker would not want anyone to see her like this. Which was perfectly fine with him. He preferred to believe he was the only one to ever see her so desperate.
The footsteps stopped and someone rapped hard on the door.
"Maw Walker?"
It sounded like Nandor, whom the Maw Walker was training for combat in her limited spare time.
Renathal froze inside her again. He could feel her walls throbbing around him, the sensation so intense he had to grit his teeth to keep from moaning. He lowered his hand from the Maw Walker's mouth to caress her throat so she could answer.
"I'll be ready in a few minutes Nandor. I'll meet you upstairs," she called breathlessly.
"Is everything all right?" Nandor asked through the door, but the Maw Walker could not speak. Renathal had started kneading circles in her hip with the hand not stroking her throat, and it was all she could do to keep breathing evenly. 
The handle of the door began to turn.
“Yes!” the Maw Walker cried, her voice far too loud, as Renathal - in spite of the precariousness of their situation - thrust into her again, the stillness unbearable. “I mean, yes, I’m fine I’ll see you in a minute thank you...”
The Maw Walker said all this too quickly and desperately, and Renathal knew if it were anyone else out there they would be in trouble. But Nandor was never the sharpest fang. He merely said, "Very well, I will await you on the surface!" and his footsteps clattered away. 
Renathal managed to hold himself in check for six whole seconds, merely rocking his hips where they were, already sheathed against hers, as he waited for Nandor's footsteps to fade. As soon the click of boots against stone could no longer be heard, Renathal picked up his pace, pounding against her quick and deep to make up for their lost time, fingers still stroking her windpipe.
The Maw Walker tried to keep quiet, she really did, but he was so big and she was so full and the sensation of him sliding thickly within her was too overwhelming for her to control her voice. She keened softly as Renathal's other hand stroked patterns down her spine and she slammed her hips back to meet his as hard as she possibly could.
With a growl, Renathal pinned her flat against the wall and pushed his body flush against hers, forcing her up onto her toes to keep the deep angle she preferred. Renathal wrapped his hand fully around her throat and gripped her hip with the other for leverage as he rammed into her. The Maw Walker cried out, quivering at the delicious feeling of being pinned between her lover and the stone, rendered completely helpless and at his mercy, and Renathal knew she was close.
“Hush, dearest,” Renathal whispered, his mouth against her ear. "As much as I love to hear you scream for me, I'm afraid you'll fetch us an unwanted audience."
The Maw Walker pressed her lips together in an attempt to obey, though her wordless cries continued to spill out brokenly from between them in spite of her best effort. Renathal smirked. He loved making his typically unflappable Maw Walker lose control.
“That’s it. Good girl,” Renathal crooned in her ear, and her walls clenched around him at his praise.
He pulled her face back to meet his and pressed his lips to hers in a bruising kiss, trying to swallow her jubilant cry. He did not let her rest through her orgasm, however. Instead, he quickened his pace, rutting faster and faster until he was there, just there, and spilling inside her, his own growl now audible against her mouth.
Renathal could feel the Maw Walker's bliss-filled smile against his lips; feel her legs shake as she fought to keep herself upright in spite of the powerful high she was coming down from. He eased himself slowly out of her with a low groan and a soft noise of disappointment from his lover. It made Renathal smile in satisfaction. She turned, leaning her back against the stone as she wrapped her arms around his shoulders again, this time dragging him down for a deep, slow kiss Renathal could have drowned in. 
The Maw Walker broke first and leaned her forehead against his, fighting to control her breathing. 
"Hello," she murmured. There had been no time for salutations when he had first arrived.
"Darkest greetings," Renathal replied, making her laugh against his lips. "It has been entirely too long. I have ... quite missed you."
"I missed you too," and she said it so tenderly Renathal could almost pretend she was saying something else.
Read Part 5: Keys for All Occasions: The Maw | Visit the Masterpost
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vtopiia · 11 months
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Title: Living in shadows
Show/Movie: The Mandalorian
Love interest(s): Elia Kane
Main/Original character: Kieli ; played by Adria Arjona
Writing stages:
Plot? I have the entire main plot, the exact workings of Act 2 are still a little bit of a mystery, although I know the important things
Outline? Act 3 is done, and I’m working on Act 1
Anything actually written? Nothing yet
Posted? 🤨
Edit count? “I need to edit them more” — I did indeed edit them more, I now have a grand total of 5
Current focus? Updated answer,, hell yes
Plot details: (that I wish to disclose)
Kieli is a new Amnesty ‘recruit’ in 9 ABY, which is how herself and Elia meet. The first act of the story will cover the two years in between S2 & S3 of The Mandalorian, exploring Kieli & Elia’s friendship turned relationship.
Act two will then branch into the darker side of the plot, exploring what we see of Elia during 3x03 (of TM) and having Kieli meet a select few other important characters (Din inc.)
Act three will then wrap things up, whether it’ll be a happy ending or a sad one, is just something you’ll have to wait to find out.
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wintaerbaer · 1 month
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bottle up old love (jjk) (m)
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summary: Jungkook may have broken up with you a year ago, but that's not going to stop him from coming to your rescue when he sees you being cornered by a creep.
pairing: Jungkook x Reader
rating: 18+ (MINORS DNI)
genre: exes to lovers, the holy trinity of angst/smut/fluff
word count: 4.6k (this was supposed to be a drabble 💀)
prompt: JK + exes to lovers + "I'm sorry" + "I hate you" + "Don't fucking touch me" + "Leave" (for @btsborahaee <3)
warnings: language, a short harassment scene at the beginning (nothing too intense), explicit content including: unprotected sex (DO NOT), fingering, praise kink, biting, marking, spanking, cum eating (sort of?), big cawk soft dom jk, cowgirl (yeehaw), creampie, cockwarming, i think that's all but this also wasn't supposed to be too smutty so clearly idk what's going on lol
MASTERLIST
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“Don’t fucking touch me!”
You spit the words at the man in front of you, pushing him back as he tries to make another grab at your arm.
“Why do you gotta be like that?” Seungcheol whines. “I thought we were having fun.”
“You and I have very different ideas of fun.” You take a step backwards towards your building. Somewhere down the sidewalk, footsteps clatter against the pavement.
“C’mon.” He matches your movement, reaches for you again. “Invite me up. You enjoyed the last time, didn’t you? I told you that was just a warm-up.”
The building’s brick wall is closer than you thought, and you bang your shoulder against it as you try to sidestep him. “Last time you didn’t follow me to a bar I didn’t even invite you to. How did you know where I was anyway?”
“Let me come up, and I’ll tell you,” he rumbles with a flicker of his eyebrows. He has you fully backed up against the wall now, and you press against the muscle of his chest to no avail.
“Stop!” you shout before he’s ripped away from you so suddenly that you’re left blinking in confusion, huddled against the brick.
There’s a thud–the sound of a fist hitting flesh–and a yelp before Seungcheol is reeling back with his hands clutching his nose. Blood seeps out from beneath his fingers, black even under the glow of the streetlamps.
“What the fuck?” he shrieks, and it’s only then that you take a proper look at your savior, looking every bit like he’s stepped straight out of the shadows with his dark hair, ebony clothes, and deep brown eyes.
And a lead weight drops into your stomach as you recognize him.
Jungkook sets himself between you and Seungcheol, looming over the latter as he continues to cover his face, whining. “I’m giving you ten seconds to get out of here.”
“Who the fuck are you?!”
“Ten,” Jungkook growls, taking a step in Seungcheol’s direction. “Nine.”
Seungcheol straightens–clearly a last-ditch attempt to look intimidating. Spitting blood onto the concrete, he peers at you over Jungkook’s shoulder. “This isn’t over, bitch.”
Then he spins and takes off running down the street.
Your hands grip your elbows. It may be a balmy summer night, but you’re shivering where you stand, unsure whether you’re more affected by Seungcheol’s behavior or the ghost who’s unexpectedly in front of you.
“Are you okay?” he quietly asks, gaze fixed on your face. You stare at your shoes and give him a brisk nod as a response before turning away, punching in your building code, and walking through the front door.
He follows closely, slipping in behind you and trailing a few feet. You let him for a little while, guiding him through the modest lobby and up the first flight of stairs. But when you’re halfway up the second stairwell–almost to your floor–you pause on the landing, spinning his way.
“What do you think you’re doing?”
His eyes are gentle, sincere. “Making sure you get in safely.”
“There’s no need for that,” you assert. “I’m already in my building. There’s a keypad. I’m good.”
“The keypad does almost nothing. I followed you in no problem.”
“So I should be worried about you then?”
He flushes, the tips of his ears going pink. “Please just let me see you inside.”
You want to argue back, want to shout at him and make a scene, but you know it’s no use. Know that he’s stubborn as a bull and will get what he wants one way or another.
It’s how he broke up with you after all.
You say nothing, only hustle up the last set of steps and down the dimly-lit hallway until you’re in front of your door, Jungkook tailing you the whole time with his hands in his pockets. You practically fumble your key in your haste to get it into the lock, letting out a satisfied sigh as the latch finally clicks open.
“There. I’m in,” you say as you step over the threshold, waving a dismissive hand at your unwanted companion. “Leave.”
But he hesitates just outside the doorway, teeth chewing at the corner of his lip. “What are you going to do if he comes back?”
“That’s my problem, isn’t it? I stopped being your concern when you dropped me out of nowhere a year ago.”
Your eyes sting at the memory, tears threatening to spill over. You don’t want him here. Don’t want to see him or have him anywhere in your vicinity. Not when it still hurts like this.
Though, truth be told, you don’t expect to ever be fully over him.
“We’re done, Jungkook,” you murmur. “You made sure of that.”
And you close the door in his face.
The distress subsides quickly once he’s out of sight–like he was never there to begin with–and you don’t linger, dropping your bag on the sofa and heading straight for the bathroom. This is how you’ve made it a year without him; it was weeks of crying before you realized that wallowing was doing you no good, only fueling your misery instead of providing any kind of catharsis. So you’ve done your best to simply push past it and crush down the anguish that bubbles up every time you think of him. Put him in a tiny little box that you refuse to touch.
You shed your clothes and turn the shower to a temperature that you’ll probably regret later. But for now, you savor the way the water sears your skin as you wash away the day with all of its unpleasant surprises. Taking your time, you scrub every inch of your body and carefully shampoo your hair (trying not to fall back into the fantasy that’s plagued you on occasion where it’s his hands and not yours spreading the bubbles over your form).
The self-care continues as you step out of the shower and leisurely work through your skin care routine, even taking the time to blow dry your hair. By the time you exit the bathroom, the fog on the mirror has dissipated, and you’ve once again successfully tamped down the memory of Jungkook and his hands and eyes and everything you ever felt for him.
Or so you think.
After popping into your bedroom to pull on some pajamas, you pad back into the living room for a glass of water, and your eyes are immediately drawn to the front door. Regret attempts to push its way into your consciousness against your better judgment. The man broke your heart, yes. But you do feel a little guilty slamming the door in his face after he just fought off a creep for you.
And speaking of Seungcheol, what if he does come back? You’re pretty sure he saw you punch in the building code the night you brought him home with you, and given his behavior, you wouldn’t be surprised if he filed it away in his head.
Anxiety winning out, you creep to the door and peer through the peephole. The hallway looks empty, drab beige walls taking up most of your field of view, but you jump as you spot a hulking shadow to the right. Your heartbeat races then slows, a closer look revealing hunched, unmoving shoulders wrapped in a familiar black t-shirt.
Jungkook swings his head to look at you as you open the door and glare down at him. His legs are pulled up, arms resting on his knees, and it might be endearing if not for the fact that he absolutely, positively should not be here.
“What are you doing?” you ask him for the second time tonight.
“He might come back.”
“And you’re going to what? Fight him?”
He shrugs. “If I have to.”
“Yeah?” You raise an eyebrow, challenging. “You’re going to sit out here all night?”
He shifts where he sits, wiggling his hips like he’s firmly planting his butt into his chosen spot. “Yes.”
You roll your eyes at him but don’t doubt that he would. Again, if there is anything you know this man to be, it’s stubborn. “You’re going to scare the neighbors.”
“Who, Mrs. Kwon?” A tiny smile plays on his lips as he glances in the direction of your elderly neighbor’s apartment. “I think she’d be delighted to see me.”
If you’re being honest, she probably would be. She’s always adored Jungkook and praised him as the “kind, handsome young man” who helped her put away groceries and fixed her leaky faucet one time. In the months following your breakup, she’d asked about him once or twice, patting your arm reassuringly when you awkwardly told her she wouldn’t be seeing him anymore.
“Don’t worry, dear,” she said. “He’ll come around.”
Well she’s turned out to be right in that he’s certainly back here again, still watching you from his spot on the floor. And you don’t know whether it’s his big doe eyes or the fact that he really would guard your apartment all night if you let him or the genuine fear that one of the other neighbors will make a fuss at his presence, but you feel yourself softening.
Turning abruptly, you stride into the kitchen for your glass of water, walking out of sight of the door, which is still wide open.
“You coming?” you call, pulling two glasses down from the cupboard.
There’s a rustle as Jungkook stands and shuffles into your apartment, closing the door behind him with a soft thud. For someone who was so determined to defend you tonight, he seems uncertain now that he’s actually inside. His hands are once again stuffed in his pockets, and his eyes flicker around like he hasn’t been here a thousand times. Hasn’t cooked you breakfast in this kitchen in nothing but his boxers. Hasn’t watched The Notebook with you on this TV and held you as you both cried.
Hasn’t made love to you on the couch.
You slide a water his way, and he murmurs his thanks, sipping at it lightly. It’s strange–seeing him here again–and you can’t help but think about the last time he stood in this room. It’d been a maelstrom of accusations and hurt feelings that culminated in him storming out, the slam of the door echoing in your ears.
“You never cleaned that?” He gestures at the rug that covers most of the sitting area in your living room, eyes on the dark purple stain roughly the size of your hand.
You gulp down your water and try not to follow his line of sight. Try not to remember how you’d knocked over a glass of wine in your haste to get his clothes off during another movie night less than a month before your breakup.
“I kind of forgot about it,” you say. “Stopped noticing it after a while.” 
It’s a lie. There was never a time when you didn’t notice it, the memory of him haunting you every time you sit down on the couch and stare at the garish stain. And still, you haven’t been able to bring yourself to try and erase it.
Silence worms its way between you again. With only the soft light from the tabletop lamp glowing next to the couch, Jungkook’s face is cloaked in shadow. And so you barely see his lips move when he speaks. Barely hear it with how quietly his whisper slips into the room.
“I’m sorry.”
Your glass almost drops from your fingers, droplets splashing across your knuckles as you catch it at the last moment and steady it on the countertop. Turning to face him, you find his gaze already on you, melancholy tinting his expression.
“What?”
He tongues his lip ring, shoulders dropping a fraction. “For how things ended. I’m sorry.”
You can see the sincerity in his posture, can see the sadness in his form. And yet, his words only fill you with a hot anger that bubbles out of you before you can swallow it down.
“I don’t know why you would be,” you challenge, “being that you didn’t even respect me enough to give me a proper reason.”
Jungkook huffs at that; you think he’s resisting the urge to roll his eyes. “Did it really matter?”
“Yes.”
He gnaws at his lip again, no longer looking at you, and his lack of an answer only riles you up further.
“Was there someone else?” you demand, causing him to flinch. It was the same thing you asked him when he told you he thought you should break up, standing in almost this exact same spot.
“No,” he murmurs after a moment. “There wasn’t anyone else.” He pushes a hand through his dark, silky hair. “There hasn’t been anyone else since either.”
This surprises you. Jungkook is, in your eyes, the handsomest man you have ever come face-to-face with, but even from an objective standpoint, he is exceedingly attractive. There is no doubt in your mind that he would easily be able to land a woman if he so desired.
“So then why?”
He sets his jaw, his Adam’s apple bobbing as he swallows and fixes his stare out the window. And it’s this final refusal, this steadfast dedication to not explaining himself, that finally has tears tracking down your cheeks.
The sight of you crying has his attention snapping back your way, hands reaching out as if to hold you.
“Don’t touch me,” you gasp, recoiling until you’re out of reach. “I…I hate you.”
It almost seems as if your voice lands physically, and Jungkook staggers back like you’ve slapped him, remorse immediately wiggling its way between your ribs. You know you don’t mean the words even as they fall from your mouth, but it feels pointless to take them back now, the sentiment already thrown out there and hovering in the hollow space between you.
Jungkook muddles towards the couch–more of a defeated slump dragging his steps than anger–and you think he’s going to sit down before he whirls back towards you at the last second.
“The gala,” he mutters. “That’s when I decided.”
You know which one he’s talking about. Hosted by your medical school to celebrate the end of the academic year, it had been a night of food, dancing, and socializing. You had, of course, brought him as your date and introduced him to your friends and classmates, excited to finally allow him to put faces to names. As you comb through your memories of the night, you can’t pinpoint any warning signs, only remembering the way he’d smiled at you throughout. The way he’d pulled you close and danced you around the room.
“I don’t…I don’t understand.”
He rakes his fingers through his hair again, tossing strands of night over his forehead. A sad chuckle looses itself into the thick air of the room, and the final dregs of his resolve flicker away. “I realized that I didn’t deserve to stand next to you. That you could do much better than me.”
Whatever you thought his reason had been–whatever theories or thoughts had kept you up night after night for the past year–this is not even close to what you expected. And while you always thought finally receiving an answer would be freeing, would offer you some semblance of understanding, you’re surprised at the rage that boils in the pit of your stomach, bile rising in your throat.
“Are you fucking serious right now?” you growl, taking an angered step towards him. “You were feeling insecure, and you made the decision to break up with me without even thinking to, I don’t know, discuss it with me first?”
His hand goes to the back of his neck now, embarrassment showing its face as he peers at you from under his lashes. “I was stupid–”
“No, shit.”
“But can you blame me?” he presses. “There we were: you, about to be this incredible doctor with all of your doctor friends…” His voice falters, sorrow lacing his tone. “And I’m just a tattoo artist.”
The defeatist way he says it helps to dampen your ire some, even if a heap of frustration remains–the sad shape of his doe eyes softening your edges.
“Just a tattoo artist,” you repeat. “Jungkook, I have always been so, so proud of you. I was never anything but proud to have you as my partner. You must’ve known that.”
His teeth worry his lip, and though he nods, he doesn’t seem fully convinced.
So you continue on, closing the distance between you a fraction more. “You started your own business from nothing. And I saw how hard you worked: to get the building, to hire other artists, train your apprentices.” You shake your head–half in irritation, half in awe. “And look at you now! You’re thriving. The last I heard, if you want an appointment at Golden Tattoo, you need to book months in advance.”
His eyes are alight now, some hidden emotion glimmering under the surface, but he stays quiet as he soaks in your words.
“So how can you possibly act like you weren’t enough?” you push. “You are amazing, Jungkook. And I never gave a shit about any job comparisons people may have made.” One more step, and suddenly you’re almost chest-to-chest. As always, you’re unable to resist the pull of his gravity. Yanked right back into his orbit. “I only wanted you. I’ve only ever wanted y–”
He cuts you off with his mouth, strong hands snagging your hips to pull you against him, and your own fingers reflexively tangle in his black hoodie as your subconscious gives itself over to him. Like it’s been waiting for this.
“I’m not. Not thriving,” he mumbles against your lips. “Not without you. Been miserable without you.”
And in spite of your anger, in spite of the fact that you were ready to kick him out a mere hour ago, you find yourself kissing him back, relishing the slick glide of his tongue as he licks into your mouth.
You startle as the backs of your knees suddenly bump against the couch, and then Jungkook is spinning as he settles onto the plush seat, pulling you along to straddle him. He sucks at your neck until you can feel the blood blooming under your skin, painting you like the pretty ink on his arm.
Speaking of.
The fabric of his hoodie whispers as you pull it up and over his back and head, tossing it over his shoulder and into a corner. His arms now bare to you, you trace over his tattoos with your eyes and fingers until you find the one you’d picked out for him; the lovely orange of the flower petals seem to glow even in the dim light of the room.
“Beautiful,” you whisper.
“Just like you.”
You look at him then, the twinkle of tiny galaxies in his eyes betraying his hope. And before you can go any further, you need confirmation.
“You left.”
“I did.” Fingertips press lightly against your waist like he’s afraid you might be the one to disappear now. “I’m sorry.”
“Jungkook, if…” You lick your lips. Can almost taste his regret. “If we do this and you leave again–”
“If we do this, I'm not going anywhere,” he insists, tugging your hips down to grind against him and ghosting a kiss at your jaw. “Just wanna be here with you. Just want you.”
And it’s all you need to hear.
You shed the cotton shirt you had thrown on after your shower and move to yank his own off, tossing it in the same corner as his hoodie. The muscles of his pecs and abs shift under your hands, burning hot where your fingers trace the contours of his torso. 
“God, I missed this,” he groans as he buries his face between your breasts, nipping at the skin there before laving the spot with his tongue.
You’d agree–echo the sentiment that your body has been aching for this–if not for the fact that you’re too busy trying to get the two of you naked, thumbs hooking into the waistband of your shorts.
But a tattooed hand covers yours, eases it away to take its place. “No,” he rumbles. “Let me.”
Wide palms and long fingers span your hips and thighs, grasping as much skin as possible even as he drags your shorts and panties down your legs and helps to steady you as you kick them off. They join the tangle of his own clothes
“Fucking gorgeous,” he growls at the sight of you finally naked in front of him. And with such speed that it almost seems like it’s involuntary, an impulse outside of his control, he’s immediately stroking at the apex of your thighs.
“Baby, this wet for me already?” A breathy sigh passes from his mouth to yours, almost laughing at the ease with which he glides through your folds. “Hell, I could just–”
A finger slips in and you gasp, Jungkook smiling wickedly at you as he quickly adds a second and curls them against your walls. You force your eyes closed as they roll back in your head, and you keel forward, babbling incoherently against the line of his collarbone.
“Use your words, love; you can do it.” He says it as if his fingers aren’t currently buried in you down to the knuckle. As if he’s not making you see stars behind your eyelids right now.
You choke down a breath, desperate for the oxygen. “Insane,” you pant. “I said you’re fucking insane.”
“Only for you,” he says before sliding his digits out of you and dipping them into his mouth. He moans at the taste, and even with his lips closed tightly, you can see the way he’s working his tongue around each finger, unwilling to waste a single drop of your essence.
Like you said. Insane.
He gives you a moment to catch your breath until you’re the one who’s getting impatient, hastily undoing his belt and tearing it from his pants with a hiss. But as you shift off of him so he can slither out of his pants and boxers–his length springing free to slap against his smooth stomach–you’re hit with an untimely realization.
“Jungkook, I don’t have condoms.”
He freezes, the color draining from his face (though admittedly, that may be because all of his blood has clearly gone south). The two of you stare at each other for a long second before he suddenly leans over, rummaging back through his pants pockets. He pulls out his wallet, rifles through it, then tosses it across the room in frustration, head tilting back against the couch as he groans at the ceiling.
“Fuck, me neither.”
You chew at your lip, a loaded quiet settling over the room as Jungkook wipes a hand over his face.
“I’m still on birth control,” you whisper, and Jungkook whips his head around, eyes wide and questioning like he’s not sure he heard you right. But you don’t repeat yourself, only hold his stare until he’s tentatively reaching out to graze his fingertips along your thigh.
“I told you. There’s been no one else.” His expression is earnest, eager. You trust that he’s telling the truth, and yet you also know that if you refused him, if you said you weren’t comfortable, he wouldn’t push.
So you swing a leg back over his lap, drag your wet folds against his cock. He moans, gripping your thighs hard, but he leans in to bite at your lower lip with a growl before pulling back to search your face.
“You?”
It hurts that he even feels the need to ask. Because how could you even want someone else? Who could possibly measure up?
You brush a reassuring, barely-there kiss against his already swollen lips. “No one else for me either.”
This seems to please him, but you still see hesitation behind his eyes as he asks, “What about the guy downstairs?”
A drunken mistake was what that was. All sloppy lips and fumbling hands that had left you feeling more empty than anything, and which resulted in you sending Cheol away before he had even gotten a peek at your bedroom.
“We made out once,” you admit, hating that you’re even having to think about another man when Jungkook is here in front of you. “But nothing else happened.”
“Good,” he grunts, but his fingers dig into your backside like he’s trying to reclaim you. And just a fraction of a second later, he’s devilishly tonguing his lip ring as he winds his palm back to bring it down harshly against the meat of your ass, the smack echoing between the walls almost endlessly.
“Ride me, baby.”
You’re quick to line him up–desperate, at this point, to have him inside of you–and begin to ease yourself down slowly, trying to give your body the space and time to adjust to the burning stretch of his girth. He’s always filled you to your absolute limit, tested the furthest boundaries of how much your body can take with his size.
“Yesss,” he hisses, nipping at your neck once again. “You’re doing great, love. Always take me so fucking well.”
You gasp as he bottoms out, struggling to catch your breath with the relentless push of him. If you were a betting woman, you’d put money on your intestines being somewhere in the area of your throat right now.
He wraps his inked arm around your waist, continuing to whisper his praises against the shell of your ear as he starts to guide your body up and down. Intoxicated by the smooth slide of his length, you soon find your pace, and your shared moans fill the room–the whole city probably able to hear you right now.
You move that way until the pressure building becomes too much and your legs start to tremble, quivering against Jungkook’s own muscled thighs.
“It’s okay; I’ve got you.” He bands his arms around you and presses you to his chest, holding you in place so he can thrust upwards.
Hard.
You’re practically screaming now, burying your teeth into his shoulder so as to muffle your sounds and not scare the neighbors. It’s all you can do to hold on for dear life as he rapidly pistons his cock inside of you, the slap of your hips like a metronome.
It builds and builds until it breaks and you’re falling apart in his arms, the spasms of your inner walls pulling him over the edge with you as he empties his seed deep inside.
The silence that follows in unlike the others you previously shared this evening–tension traded for serenity as you sit on the couch holding each other, you still contentedly stuffed full of him. He traces the ridges of your spine in a soothing pattern that has your eyelids drooping, your cheek resting against the warm skin of his neck.
“I missed this,” you whisper once your brain has finally remembered how to construct human speech.
“I missed you.”
You pull back so you can rest your forehead against his and gently run a finger over the lines of his face. “Where do we go from here?”
He hums. Tucks a stray hair behind your ear. “Take it day by day?” he suggests. “We don’t need to rush into anything if you don’t want to.”
“Mm, that does seem like a problem for tomorrow.”
A dark eyebrow quirks, teasing. “And what about right now?”
“Now?” you ask. “Do you remember the way to the bedroom? Or…” You shift your hips, already feeling him twitching inside of you.
“Or.” He jolts forward to capture your mouth in a hot kiss, and you smile into it, whole again. “Or sounds good.”
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a/n: pls like, reblog, reply, and/or send an ask if you enjoyed! <3
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3K notes · View notes
tarjapearce · 6 months
Text
El Diablo Wears Prada
Mafia Boss! Miguel O'Hara x Reader
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WARNINGS: MINORS DO NOT INTERACT. Cucking, Forced Voyeurism, A bit of Dark Miguel, Dom! Miguel, P in V, Oral (F receiving) Face sitting, manhandling, mild knife play, criminal undertones, Implied mild exhibitionism, emotional distress, mentions of cheating, Dubious morals, implicit non-con oral at the end (M receiving). No proofread.
Summary: Tired of warnings and dialogues with your stubborn and corrupt husband, The Devil shows up at your home.
A/N: Had to get it out of me. jsksj. Finally. Enjoy (?) ❤️✨.
Pt. 2
From the many times people tried to persuade you from marrying your current husband, none of them were successful.
Massimo Bianchi. An important lawyer that had swooped you off your feet with his smile and Italian charisma.
People often told you that he wasn't good. None had to be a genius to know the man was in shady business as his main job was to defend the top dogs of  corporate world. He didn't have to mingle with underworld criminals to know how they worked cause he was one.
Corrupt lawyer that always came out successful in his cases. But you remained on the shadows, blissfully ignorant of your husband's doings to the world. All you knew was that he was the head of his firm and that alone earned him a good chunk of money.
You thought him good, though your marriage had been cold for the last few years. Even though he spoiled you with things, you didn't want materialistic rewards. You wanted him.
A true fool. Your friends called you. Sometimes you truly wondered if it
was love or just that attachment that had grown over time? The kind that makes one so used to a person that their absence feels odd yet expected? You didn't know nor cared. As long as he kept coming home at night, things would be right. Everything would be fine and the fake illusion of a perfect marriage would keep playing in the background.
And it was. Until death threats kept coming into your mail. All of them saying the same.
Stay away.
Confrontations weren't really your thing, but the tension had turned so dense that arguments were the main course of everyday. Massimo refused to spill the beans as dread only kept growing inside your already rattled mind. Just like the death threats. All of them signed by El Diablo.
"Amore, he is none. Just a petty criminal that is pissed I'm locking up his associates."
Lies, lies and more lies.
A petty criminal wouldn't put you on edge, wouldn't make you feel watched. Cause in truth, wherever you went the feeling of being observed remained etched in every step you took.
"That's exactly what they want you to believe, cara mía. That's a tactic for scum like them to scare decent people like us."
You didn't pressed any further, rather save your breath. He was as closed as an hermetic safe box.
-----
To relax your nerves you decided to go shopping, and returned home with an idea that you were certain would rekindle the cold flame in your marriage. Massimo seemed way too busy in his work to make an approach, and when you wanted to initiate things, he'd just push you away with the excuse that he was exhausted.
And you were tired of toys and your hand. So, you took a bath, lathered your body in rich and delicious smelling oils, and slipped into an emerald green silk and velvet lingerie set you just bought.
You hid it all underneath a skin tight black dress that enhanced your body shape. Hair done in a messy yet sultry look, a subtle fem fatale makeup with a gorgeous shade of burgundy lips.
The sound of your husband's car breaking violently snapped your attention at the front door. Massimo bursted out through the door and you smiled.
"Hey, darling!"
"Pack your shit. We're leaving."
You frowned in confusion at his sudden panicky and antsy state. But most importantly his tone. Urgent, demanding and scared.
"W-What? Where are-"
"There is no time for questions! Just do as I tell you! Now!"
He grabbed you by the arm and dragged you to the bedroom.
"Massimo, you're scarying me. What's going on?!"
Bianchi groaned as he threw you on the bed, nose flaring in anger at your reluctance.
"Non hai sentito, stupida stronza? Fai quello che ti dico, cazzo!" (Didn't you hear, dumb bitch? Do as I fucking tell you!)
Your teary eyes widened at him, frantic and fumbling with the suitcases. Filling them with papers and valuable objects. Not even clothes, just things you were sure he treasured more than your marriage.
"MOVE IT!" He roared and you blinked away your tears, scrambling out of his sight. He muttered things you didn't understand much as he shoved more papers inside. You grabbed the first suitcase you found and filled in with the necessary.
The sound of cars breaking and revving into the pebbled porch of your luxurious  home made Massimo to pull out a gun, you gasped and he ushered you to come closer. You kneeled next to him as he spoke in hushed whispers.
"No matter what happens, you remain silent okay?"
Your trembling hands clung to him as fear begun numbing your judgment. There was a collective round of car's doors slapping shut and footsteps that approached almost in scary synchronization.
"Go through the pool entrance, take this with you and leave. I'll see you in the other apartment"
"N-No, Massi-"
He kissed you, as he pushed a stack of documents further in your hands.
"No matter what, don't let them get this, ok?" His hushed whispers didn't help soothing your already fried nerves
"Massimo!"
"Go!"
He dispatched you with an angry growl, shaking legs scrambled once more ducking down the windows. You removed the heels as you crossed the manor, tears momentarily blurring your sight as you reached the pool. A shot in the air made you still, before you ran back inside.
A few shots and screaming voices followed you. The pained screams of your husband along some grunts made you whimper in fear. You hid behind the kitchen's large breakfast island as steps echoed ominously close. No matter in what direction you tried to go, the men, clad in black and red were there. Awaiting for their prey. Anything that moved.
The paper crumpled under your tight grip, and you covered your mouth, to remain as quiet as possible. Heavy steps retired from your area, and you exhaled in mild relief. Heart pumped hard with every passing beat, you snuck past the island to go back to the main entrance.
And just as you were about to taste freedom, the largest man you had ever seen, clad in a rich black suit and polished shoes, blocked your entrance with a stoic gaze that shifted into a shameless smirk upon seeing you.
Big, strong and long limbs trapped you against him as you cried and thrashed in a meek attempt to free yourself.
"Shh, shhh shh"
His nose nuzzled your neck and you stilled, tears rolled down your cheeks as he pointed a gun to your head. The cold metal against your temple made your breathings erratic.
"Tranquila, corazón. I'm not gonna hurt you." (Relax, sweetheart)
He dragged you to one of the many spare rooms in the house. A tall black woman with a frondous afro was finishing tying Massimo on the ground to then wipe away the blood caked in her brassed knuckles. 
His handsome face littered in bruises, a blooming dark eye on his left, a busted lip and his broken nose was all that remained after the bravado he often boasted up. Your heart couldn't help but sink in further at the sight.
You tried to go to his side, but the man only tightened his grip on you.
"Mr. Bianchi."
The man holding you spoke, to then aim his gun to him.
"S-Stop! Please!"
He kissed you deeply as his hands handcuffed your hands back. The kiss was so fast you barely had time to digest it, just like everything that was happening around you.
"You really need to shut your pretty mouth for a bit, cariño."
"Hei! Lasciala!" (Hey! Leave her)
A blonde man kneed him in the stomach, knocking all the air out of Massimo as he doubled in pain.
"Stop!" You squealed in between hiccups. Fat tears rolled down your cheeks, ruining your makeup. The papers you were given were long gone from your hands.
The woman with the afro smirked upon reading them.
"We got it, Miguel."
Massimo gulped at the name. Miguel O'Hara, one of the major criminal Don's in the underworld, El Diablo himself had came to his home to collect his reaps.
"I tried to be a reasonable man with you, Mr. Bianchi, but given your stubborn nature to cooperate and pay what's rightfully mine, I must take drastic measures for you to understand that I don't like being lied to."
Miguel made a sign for everyone to leave.
"M-Massi? What... What is he talking about?"
"You lie to your lovely wife?" His face turned one of disgust and his large feet pushed Massimo's head on the ground, his swollen cheek flattening against the expensive Prada shoes adorning Miguel's feet.
You only looked away as your husband groaned in pain despite Miguel holding back from hurting him seriously.
" You see, cariño. Your doting husband right here, has been fucking around with my associates."
He removed the outer layer of his suit and carefully laid it on a nearby chair.
"People that have worked hard for what they have and have come to me in dire need of protection against this... greedy coward."
Your eyes snapped back to Massimo as he kept folded in pain, his eyes adverted from you.
"Bribing the judges, increasing taxes, charging extra fees to those who need him? And not enough, this cabrón tiene los huevos para pedir dinero en mi nombre." (This fucker has the guts to collect money in my name.)
His meaty mouth clicked in disapproval. 
"Is that true?"
He remained quiet, blood caking on his lips and chin.
"Massimo, look at me. Is that true?!"
"I'm really sorry you have to find out this way, preciosa. But don't you worry. I know he will pay."
Dread sunk in further at his words. If there was something you were so sure of, that if your life depended on it you wouldn't fear in risking it, is the little fact that your husband never really had the intention of paying debts.
A habit that stuck with him in your dating stage, something he never grew out of. And now the fatal consequences were only added in his karma balance.
"The hell I am!" Bianchi spat at his shoes, and Miguel, unbuttoned his shirt to then pull out a cigarette. He took a long drag. Cherry scent filled in your lungs as he blew the smoke in his direction.
"I'll put you behind bars, O'Hara!"
Miguel chuckled, showing his canines. One of the reasons of his nickname.
He pulled the cigarette out of his mouth and crushed the ablaze end on your husband's forehead. A new groan of pain along a few Italian curses filled in the room.
You looked away, too scared and stunned to actually do something. What help could you possibly be? You were handcuffed, barefooted and emotionally all over the place. The many warnings about him finally weighing on your shoulders.
Your name was called between breathless and pained yelps, but you refused to acknowledge him.
"Let her go, please." You heard him, speak, but no words or pleas seemed to move Miguel. He just stared at Massimo with a bored expression as he crouched to meet his eyes.
"Hope you have told her that you cheated her with one of my favorite colleagues."
His words were the last stab you could handle, you broke in tears.
"I should kill you for that alone, but that would be too merciful of me."
Miguel stood up and prowled over you, his hands reached for your face and wiped away your tears carefully.
"I am a firm believer of 'An eye for an eye', Mr. Bianchi."
He removed the shirt, leaving his torso bare before you, eyes couldn't help but wander before retreating away, Miguel smirked.
"Are you?"
Massimo glared at him, heaving through the pain as he pulled a pocket knife and approached you.
"I'll have to make you a believer, then."
The sharp of the blade slid down your dress, enough to tear through the fabric covering your breasts. His lips pursed to give an appreciating whistle upon seeing your mounds clad in the velvety and silky texture of your lingerie.
" Con permiso, cariño." (Excuse me, darling)
Big hands took each a piece of fabric to tear the dress in half as you gasped and tried to scurry away from him. A hand grope your nape and you stilled.
One of his hands was big enough to pull you before your husband as the other one rested on the dip of your waist.
"Look at that. Por Dios... Was this a surprise for him?"
Upon your silence he squeezed your nape a bit tighter and you yelped.
"Y-Yes!"
"Too fucking bad he doesn't deserves it, right preciosa?"
"Don't you dare to touch her!"
Miguel nearly cackled at his measly threats. He took a couch and placed it before him. The coolness in the room made your skin crawl, but when he kissed your neck, an involuntary gasp left your lips.
"How long has been since this man touched you?"
His hands roamed your body, fingertips grazed your silky covered nipples as his other hand ghosted over your velvet clad pussy.
Another tiny whimper as he sat down on the couch, you were placed ontop of him, your thighs stretched, making to meet the width of his well sculpted ones, clad in fine wool. Hot and moist tongue caressed the upper part of your earlobe.
"M-Months"
You gulped and his touches stopped.
"You steal, you cheat and are a con man, yet you refuse to touch your wife? And me thinking I was the monster here."
He sat you in one of his thighs and pinched the bridge of his nose, an annoyed and incredulous look on his face.
"Lucky for you I'm in a good mood right now. Vamos a arreglar eso." (Let's fix that)
His hand cupped your chin and pulled you in for a kiss. Upon feeling his tongue invading your mouth, you recoiled but this only enticed him to snake his tongue around yours, sucking it and savoring you. The oils in your skin tickled his nose, a sweet and delicious scent that he'd often gift to his most prominent conquers.
But the way you had so dotingly prepared yourself for the cheating of a man you had for a husband, stirred something within him. You groaned as you demanded for air.
A thin dribble of his saliva connecting your mouths as hot pants fanned on eachother's lips.
He kneeled behind you and rolled your silk and velvet panties down your hips and knees. He tossed them away and bent you over, earning a yelp from you as your face was inches away from your alarmed husband.
"Don't" He shook his head and whispered. It came out like a silent plea that you ignored as Miguel sunk his face between your thighs from behind with a groan. Tongue teasing your mound, caressing softly at your clit.
You trembled and clenched your jaw to avoid moaning too loud. Shame spurted over your face in the shape of a bright red flush and a heavy feeling on your stomach. Big tanned thumbs spreaded your cheeks, to push himself deeper. His tongue lapped and teased; learning your skin's taste and texture that felt wonderful on his tongue and taste buds.
Wet and sloshing slurps made you pant and choke a moan as his hands grabbed your hips, exhorting them to use his handsome face as a seat. His tongue dribbled up and down your shivering and soaked flesh.
You groaned.
"Oh my god!" You mewled as you rode his face softly, "I-I'm so sorry!"
You spoke in between breathless pants as Miguel just moved your hips faster. Your mouth went slack and your needy breath fanned over your husband.
"Cara mía?" He'd whisper with pleading eyes but you were too enraptured in your brewing bliss. By instinct your hips seeked the movements of his tongue, chasing that relief only his mouth seemed to provide.
Legs quivered as they stood in their tip toes that curled in everytime he toyed with your clit. The smoothenes of his ministrations and the unceasing wet slurps he gave in your flesh, inched you closer and closer to the dangerous precipice of corruption and pleasure.
Another man was devouring you with such hunger you didn't think possible, as your lawful husband was forced to watch as you came right before him. It made your knees weak.
Eyes drooped before they clamped shut and your mouth hissed through panting and erratic breaths a needy Yes!
The guards outside the closed door were unfazed at Miguel’s antics. But the smirk on their faces were full of pride. El Diablo, their boss was someone people often had the misfortune of underestimate, until they were no longer laughing and rather plea for mercy or death, whichever came first.
Your hands behind your back slowly tingled as numbness spreaded upwards your arms.
Miguel separated himself and wiped his chin off your delicious slick and pulled the couch closer, he unzipped his pants and spreaded your thighs above his once more. Your chest heaved as you nested against his torso, fire licking your skin at the contact. The pocket knife was brought to your skin as he locked eyes with a disturbed yet aroused Massimo.
The tip of the sharp blades ran down up your torso, leaving a faint pink trail on it's wake, your breath hitching at the sensation until it reached the elastic lower band of your bra that held the cups together.
You didn't expected the quality elastic to give in so easily under the sharpness of a frail looking knife. Your breast spilled from the velvety green confinements and Miguel groaned while he hissed in delight at the sight.
He slapped your husband's face with a serious scowl
"Watch and learn how to treat a woman, cabrón."
Miguel fumbled with his pants and cotton briefs before releasing his aching and hard cock free. Bianchi adverted his eyes, embarrassed as defeat washed over him.
Miguel slapped the tip against your drenched folds, a cue for you to move your hips and smear more of your slick all over him before sinking in balls deep.
The intrusion felt delightful and painfully tight. Inner muscles clamped around him, making his head be thrown back, relishing not only at how hot and delicious you felt, but also at the feeling of your tightness trembling around him.
"Maldita sea preciosa, me estás matando". (Goddammit beautiful . You're killing me)
His hands hooked underneath the back of your knees, making you lean against him completely. Firm and cinnamon skin toned pecs supported your arching back.
Massimo couldn't help but peek under his disheveled hair and he nearly gasped at the sight. You were completely full and stretched at the size of his hefty cock. He could see your lower belly bulging a bit as his shaft rested within you. Bianchi was unable to look away, as emasculated as he felt.
A firm slap of his hips and it sent you curling your toes. Hips accommodated further in the single couch as his lips kissed your neck, canines grazing at your sensitive skin.
"So fucking tight f'me" He plunged you deeper, finally letting your walls meld to his size to then begin his slow thrusting. As much as he was dying to raw you silly, he had enough self control to be careful and not ruin you. That would come later.
It had been a long long time since he actually enjoyed having this kind of revenge. His eyes gave a quick glance to his beaten enemy and smirked in satisfaction when he noticed the bulge in between his imitation pants. Your hands fisted behind you, letting him to stretch you completely.
Your hips gave a soft rut, snapping his attention back to you, surprised you'd seek more of him.
His hands pushed your hips down onto him and your breast bounced. His eyes stalked yours, to assert his control, but you gave in so easily. Months of being untouched had made you a needy and sodden mess.
You were tired of your toys, and now that you had the real deal, it felt too good to let it slip. Things with your husband were surely done for anyways as fucked up as the situation was.
He'd probably be killed either way.
"Eyes on me, cariño" And just then, a sinful symphony of wet and merciless thrust fell upon you. Everytime he slid in made your pussy drool at his punishment. You cooed and stared at him with such a lovely and needy expression Miguel engraved in his mind.
Tears bit at the corner of your eyes as they drooped, taking your mind in this continuous trance of being torn between getting absolutely fucked out and coherent enough to give him a vocal reply like a moan or a praise and apologies to your voyeur.
"Cara mía, Don't do this to me" Bianchi shook his head in denial, but that only enticed Miguel to make it rougher.
Shy moans turned into shameless mewls and implorings that enticed him to ruin you at his contempt. The con man wished to cover his ears, but it was too delicious and forbidden to not indulge. Unavoidable too. Your pleas turned into lewd wailings and howlings. The tears and mascara long caked and dried on your cheeks.
Despite three years deep in marriage your husband would never care enough to leave you satisfied. It was everything about him, not really minding if you finished yourself by whatever means you found or thought right.
But this, this was pure torture. Sure, he didn't do anything to please you, but the thought of you being with another man always made him kick enough with the right amount of jealousy that would keep you satisfied for at least a couple of months while he kept ruining lives.
The slaps and Miguel's grunts turned desperate.
"Just like that! Yes!" You sobbed as his sac slapped against your clit, serving a good amount of punishment to your sensitive nub of nerves.
Your skin shook, breast bounced as you squirmed and twitched in absolute enjoyment.
"Like that, princesa?"
You nodded in between blown breaths, the pressure coiled tightly in the pit of your stomach. Menacing to snap at any second.
The sex and his Oud Wood by Tom Ford undertoned sweat made a puddle of your mind. Mouth gaped and shallow breaths came clenching through gritted teeth but he stopped just when you were about to greet God to release your hands from the back.
He pushed you on the floor on all your trembling fours, wool pants discarded completely, just as his CK briefs. Everything of him exuded with luxury. Even his rutting felt like an exotic meal you've tasted for the first time and you'd never go back to settle for anything less delicious and mind blowing than this.
But poor Massimo Bianchi was a reminder of your golden band that was wrapped around your ring finger.
Miguel's hand held tightly around the base of your neck, both hands melded at the size of your frail joint. both his feet planted on each side of you, caging you between his hips, and he sheathed once more in your already puffed and beaten pussy, making you yelp at the fullness and depth.
"Miguel!" You cried as your hands held on your husband's crossed legs. Your body lurched forward, meeting his cock in a merciless pace it had you bubbling like a total fool.
"I'm... Im sorry" A choked whimper, "Oh god, I'm so sorry Massi" Your mouth mumbled before Miguel squeezed your neck to keep you from apologizing to him, choking words in your gaping mouth.
He didn't deserve your regret, he deserved nothing. He wouldn't give him that much satisfaction.
"But it feels so good!"
You rasped and Miguel smiled darkly.
"Why don't you give him a farewell kiss, cariño?"
You shook your head and he frowned.
"No? Should I stop then?"
A whimper. Eyes twinkled in amusement as you reached for your husband and forced a kiss on him while El Diablo plowed remorselessly into you.
Bianchi could only whimper in pain as you bit his busted lip and kissed him, with a rough motion Miguel pulled you away from him. Your head far too gone into a place only he could reach. His panting and mumblings had turned borderline animalistic. He had praised you through it all and you were more than willing to comply.
Your body went taut, spent walls milked and creamed him as he cradled you against his torso. Body convulsed in bliss as he spilled his hot, sticky and big load inside your spasming walls. He laughed at your husband and at your dumb-bitch gone look.
He gave you a deep smooch before laying you on the couch. He slicked his hair back and caught his breath for a couple of minutes to then put on back his boxers. His eyes darted to an expectant Massimo.
Eyes wide. Still deciding between feeling horrified and happy for having such a twisted fantasy come true. A sick fuck through and through.
"I expect my payment within a month. More than enough time for you to collect what you owe me, Max."
Miguel purposely butchered his name as he threw his thousand dollars shirt you way.
"Put that on. We're taking a ride."
----
His men had escorted you back to his car. An armored black Bulletproof Lincoln Navigator SUV. House slippers was the only thing he had allowed you to get on your feet. The cold seemed to not affect his naked torso as he waltzed out your now wrecked home.
The cologne in his shirt stronger, as it covered your naked body from prying eyes.
"Get inside"
"N-No"
Miguel's nostrils flared in anger, despite the dazing and scrumptious raw fucking he put you through some moments ago, you knew he was a dangerous man.
"Why wouldn't you just-"
"-Ta madre, que entres al puto carro, mujer!" (Fucking shit, get into the fucking car, woman!)
His booming voice made you still with a frown. His temper switching surely made you confused. Tears welled up in your eyes, and seeing the sluggishness you took to get in, made him drag you inside himself, and sat beside you and sighed.
His sour mood was thanks to one of his men, Peter. He had the most awful timing to deliver news. One of his younger recruits had been shot. Not fatally shot, but surely would cost him a great chunk of money. Bribing judges to prevent him from sending him to prison, and medics through thirds would take some resources he was planning to use in another mission.
Miles G. Morales.
The name made his patience even shorter, and it didn't helped you were sniffling as your hands rubbed your ring despite the sore wrists.
After all he did to you you still thought about that cheating cuck?
No. He wouldn't allow it. Not when he has already found a perfect use for you.
As the ride begun he pulled up the middle window, blocking his sight from Ben as he drove. He made a couple of calls, you were recoiling away from him at every chance he tried to wipe your tears. Reject was something he was used to, that didn't mean it set right in his heart. And it showed as he unzipped his pants and pulled out his cock once more.
The calls ended and he tossed the phone back to the inner pocket of his suit and pulled out his gun to rest it on your temple.
Your eyes widened as he spoke.
"Clean it."
Fear clung to you as a new wave of tears rolled down your cheeks. But your mouth beat you to voice your true desires.
"No."
His brow quirked and smiled darkly once more. He grabbed your hair and pulled you down on your knees before him. Legs still recovered from the previous cucking session, not that he cared anyways. The SUV cabin was spacious enough for him to pull the stunt.
"Funny you think you have a saying, cariño. Now be a good girl and clean my fucking cock. You made a mess out it."
The gun was pressed further, the click of his safety removal made you gulp.
Was this the life that you'd get from now on? It couldn't be. Part of your brain refused to acknowledge him as your owner, but the other part was terrified and intrigued to see how all of this would unfold for you. You won't make things easy for him as he was already making it a living hell for you.
You mouth begun to work him as he pulled another cigarette and blew the smoke in your direction.
The Devil seemed pleased. For now.
4K notes · View notes
hoshigray · 9 days
Note
Hey 🫶🏻 Can I request having sex with Sukuna when he is extremely jealous? Like reader is kinda popular and other guys always tryna flirt with her and shit (she is not interested ofc) So when Sukuna saw another man shooting his shot he needs to blow off steam by fucking you dumb 🤕 and he saying shit like “what a good little cocksucker, maybe I should record you and send this video to all those bastards, so they would know who’s dick you’re gagging on” 😭 I’m so sorry if this is too specific, feel free to ignore 😭
Love your works 🥰
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𝐚. 𝐧𝐨𝐭𝐞: ofc ofccc !! and ty for loving my stuff~
⊹ 𝐜𝐨𝐧𝐭𝐞𝐧𝐭𝐬: Sukuna x fem! reader - explicit content; minors DNI - modern setting; you and Sukuna are college seniors - rough sex - fingering (f! receiving) - impact play (spanking + pussy slaps) - oral (m! receiving) - dumbification - choking - backshots + legs-up positions - degradation (cocksucker, dumb bitch, slut, whore) - overstimulation - clitoral play (pinching and swiping) - pet names (dove, little girl, princess, woman) - possessive behavior (it's sukuna, duh) - use of a phone; sexual photography and videography - heavy depictions of a blowjob - mention of tears and spit.
⊹ 𝐰𝐨𝐫𝐝 𝐜𝐨𝐮𝐧𝐭: 2.5k
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“—Khaahh, oohhh!! Sukuna, pleasee, it hurts—Ahhhnn...!”
“Who said you’re in any position to tell me how to handle you, woman?… Fucking shit, you’re tight as hell…”
Everyone knows that you are off-limits. Knowledge of this fact is the bare minimum when dealing with the one known as “Sukuna’s girl” — no one should dare lay a finger or bat an eye on his woman. And yet, somehow, Sukuna continues to find strays that think this rule doesn’t apply to all. 
He saw it not too long ago today when a guy came your direction at the hall, concealing himself in the shadows to eavesdrop. The junior was dumb enough to invite you to some get-together, foolish enough to think he should even be speaking to the partner of the cold and intimidating Ryōmen Sukuna. 
You were the most popular girl in the class year — expected as Sukuna wouldn’t deal with someone who wasn’t [barely] on equal footing as him. However, unlike him, you carried a much kinder cadence. You greet others with sweet words, converse with professors in a mutual light, and engage with everyone with a compassionate and tranquil soul. — the complete opposite compared to your boyfriend. So, of course, it would be hard for you to turn away people when they come to you for guidance or opinions. 
In this case, you had expressed to the junior that you weren’t interested and had plans to study at your boyfriend’s apartment later. It wasn’t a complete lie, yet a respectful diversion that was expected of you and pleased Sukuna observing.
However, the dull-witted brat put his hand on your shoulder and continued to press on, emphasizing that you’d miss out on people wanting to have a good time with you. A ballsy thing to remark as if saying your boyfriend holds no priority over some boring party. Besides, the man had to stop the itch of coming out of the shadows to strangle the kid for laying his hands on you.
Nonetheless, you gracefully pushed his hand aside and apologized again for declining his offer before heading on your way. The situation was disentangled, both parties carrying on with their days. But that wasn’t enough to calm the salmon-haired man. 
Especially when you were in his apartment, protected under his gaze the entire time; you were sitting across from him at the coffee table while sorting through your coursework, unaware of the fixed look of his red eyes on your frame. Because all he could do was look at you, replaying the interaction from earlier today. 
It all angered him deeply — how the junior said your name so casually, the laughs you shared with him, and the touch on your shoulder. Everything from that moment added fuel to the fire scorching in his gut. He couldn’t relax, knowing there were still imbeciles who had the gall to act so familiar with you, his princess. 
The twitch of his brow couldn’t cease, same with the bounce of his knee – his nerves having an inner battle of maintaining a low profile. And being the caring piece in this relationship, you noticed. You blinked up to where he sat, “Is everything okay?” 
Of course not, woman. As much as he wants to put all the blame on the guy, Sukuna felt that you also played a part in this charade. To him, you were just as worse as that fucker. How could you, his precious dove, allow such trash to be so close to you? Allowing that thing to touch you was such an insult to him, downright disrespectful to the man you call your boyfriend. And the fact that you didn’t think of telling him — believing that you could keep this as a small matter insignificant to his awareness — left a sour taste in his mouth.
In his philosophy, Sukuna knew you were in the wrong as well. And for that, you would also have to be dealt with by him, to be reminded of your place in all this.
“Ohoooo! Ooof!! ‘kunaaaa, your fingersss…! Too fast, please slow—Daaahhh!!”
He’d smack your wet cunt, forcing you to grip his satin sheets. You’d instantly try to close your legs, but Sukuna wasn’t having any of that, quick to pinch the skin of your inner thigh to correct you. 
“Dumb bitch,” he throws insults, void of caring that you were on the brink of tears. He brings a hand to your throat, resulting in you gagging from your circulation being cut off. “I told you to keep those legs open. First, you let some fucker touch you, and now you can’t obey me when necessary? Do you enjoy disrespecting me like this?”
“Ahck! I–hic–I’m sorryyy,” he could feel you clench on his fingers, gripping them as if you refused to let them go.
It humored Sukuna, who effortlessly removed his digits to give your slit another harsh slap that made you gasp for air. An action proved difficult with his whole right hand constricting your airways. “Are you? How can you be sorry when you’re latching onto my fingers like a slut?” His hold on your neck goes tighter; your hands claw at his forearm, a desperate plea that doesn’t sway him. “Say it like you mean it, Y/n.”
“Khh..Ahh—Please, forgive me, Sukuna…!” Your apology came through wheezes, tears now welling up to fall on your pretty face, yet you knew it wasn’t enough. “I should have…Never let that junior tou—Mmmph! …Touch me… I’m your princess, only yours.”
A pink brow is lifted, but his expression remains unchanged. With one last slap to your leaking chasm, Sukuna lets go of your throat for you to cough and gasp as much air as you can. While you do that, he removes his turtleneck and unbuttons his dark jeans, bringing his briefs down to spring his erection out before lying back onto the pillows against the bed headboard. “Prove it then,” his voice has you turn to listen. “Suck me off the way I like it.” 
You are in no position to resent him, crawling towards him on all fours and immediately going to work. Your tongue greets his reddish-pink glans with swirls, licking his frenulum and nibbling on the skin before taking the head to your mouth. You lather his cock with your spit as you bob your head, hallowing your cheeks to take in every inch while your hand glides up and down his shaft. 
“Nnmph, fuck,” Sukuna groans at the feeling of your feverish sucks of his cockhead, your hand stroking him while you tend to him with your mouth feels too good. He peers down to watch you suck hard on his tip, and you return his gaze with a hooded look while sucking on his balls, causing him to hum. You then bring the tip back into your lips, making raunchy noises as you take his girth and lick his precum. 
“Heh, what a nasty little girl,” he comments after you exude a trail of spit onto his dick before hurriedly slurping him back inside your warm mouth. “I outta take a picture of you…No, a video is better.” He’s pleased to see your watery eyes twinkle with dread when he pulls out his phone from his jean pocket. He slides to open the camera application, “Maybe I should show that fool how such a good cocksucker you are for me.”
“S–Sukuna, please, anything but—Mmmm!” Again, no one said you were in a position to speak out of turn. Hence why, your boyfriend grabs your cheeks roughly with a single hand. Crimson eyes pierce through your fragile skin, and your figure fills with fright within milliseconds. 
“What did I say about giving me orders?” His tone is enough to send shivers down your spine, his nails denting your cheeks. “Does my woman want me to expose them for the filthy whore they are? Cause I couldn’t care less if I one day start leaking these shits and have your reputation crumble in seconds as a lesson.”
A tiny bit of you wants to believe he wasn’t serious; however, the single tear shed from your unblinking eyes tells a different conscience. You reply with a shaky breath and a quivering lip. “No, Sukuna...Please forgive me.”
He releases your chin with a push of the thumb. “Then get back to it, dove.” The sweetness of that pet name wasn’t present as he smacked your cheek with his length. You listen to him, taking him back into your throat with a euphoric mewl while cupping and kneading his balls. He sneers and presses the record button, “Just like that, princess.”
And don’t think that it ends there — because it doesn’t. 
“Ahhhnn! Oooooh, my God, ‘Kuna..’kunaaaa, I can’t—Ahahnn!”
“—Nngh, that’s right, Y/n; scream for me…Fuck, this tight ass pussy…”
Sukuna now has your face down ass up, pinning you to the satin mattress by the shoulders and hammering his bare cock right into your messy cunt. Your cries are muffled by the sheets you bite into, tears streaming down hot cheeks as your boyfriend plows himself deep side your core. The commotion coming between your sexes fills his bedroom outside of the squeals that bounce against the walls.
Your figure jolts with every thrust, Sukuna’s pelvis smacking on your ass that stings with hot skin after taking onslaughts of slaps from his hands. Your clitoris, exhausted from the constant tweaks and pinches, rests with the cool air treating the sore button. Sweat is covered all over your nude body, evidence that you and your boyfriend have been going about this for a long while, and of course, you’re getting a bit fatigued and overly sensitive to his every touch. But you know he doesn’t care; this is all for your punishment.
Sukuna throws your butt another smack, having your vaginal walls instinctively contract around his girth. He hisses with a grin, “Damn, I love seein’ you like this.” His eyes trail down from your sweaty shoulders, following your spine and hips, down to your ass, where he sees the insertion of his dick being swallowed by you. Seeing the white, soapy ring shielded around his cock makes him bite his lip. “All sore and dirty for me…Mmmph, gripping on me like a slut, going dumb on my cock.”
His hips then propel erratically, having your howl with eyes shooting up. You were too far gone to think of proper thought, with your brain churned into mush and your head pounding nonstop. The heat on your face is just as unbearable as the throbbing sensation down south. Your trembling legs try so hard not to give in and slump, yet you can’t lie; you’re tired, sore, and sticky all over. 
“Nmaahh! OhhhJesussss, ‘kuna, pleaseeee, lemme cummm—Mmaahh!” Another smash to your ass, followed by a pinch to your clitoris to juxtapose with the slow strokes he uses to massage the delicate spots of your walls.
“Why do you think I should let you cum, woman?” He swipes on your clit, listening intently to the whines that climb higher with the brush of his finger. 
Your words come out in slurs, yet you must answer to him. “I’m shorryy, I didn’t mean to—oh, fuck…do you wrong. Yer the only man who can touch me, wound me,” You peer over your shoulder to see Sukuna, an action that has him release your clit and hear what you have to say. “And love me…just as I love you, and only you. No one else can have me like you…Hahhh, I’m yours, both in mind and body…” Salmon brows furrow as you continue. “I love only you and want only you to touch me, ‘Kuna..Please forgive me, I won’t do it again…”
He was already sold once you turned to look at him, you little minx. Your watery eyes suddenly struck his heart — you are the only thing in the world that could do that, his little dove. He can tell by your heaves and pants that you wish to rest, that you had enough of his lesson and want to be in his embrace. 
However, no unpleasant deed shouldn’t go unpunished. Within a second, Sukuna has you flipped on your back with your legs brought up to his left shoulder. He brings out his phone once again, swiping to put on the camera after inserting his length back inside you.  “Hey, princess,” he calls to you. “Why don’t you say hello to the camera for me? Want something to look back to.”
You gulp with a dry throat, sheepishly smiling at the camera phone. “Hello, I’m Y/n—Ooohh!!” He surprises you with more ruts to your chasm, clamping onto him as if your life depended on it. 
“Who do you belong to, Y/n?” He calls out to you with a steady breath, as if his pelvis wasn’t poisoning deep to grind your insides to evoke pretty moans to escape puffy lips. 
“Hahaaa!! I—Hnnph..I belong to Sukuna Ryō–hic…men…”
“Who does this pussy belong to, Y/n?” Ruts become harsher with every word.
“—Mmoohhh, fuuuhuck, it’s yours, only yoursss,” you voluntarily take up your legs and hold them from behind your knees, bringing them to your chest. “Me and this pussy belong to only Sukuna, no one else can touch me…!”
Sukuna pans the phone down to the union of his dick, moving to and fro from your slit. The white essence painting both sexes was making an erotic mess, strings of his come covering his girth with every push and pull. He chuckles to himself. “This right here is all mine, ya hear?” He looks at you to see you nod your head hurriedly. “Don’t you ever forget that, understand?” You nod again, clenching around him when he drops the phone and leans towards you to place his hands on yours.
It’s here that he finally finishes with you, pounding his hips into you as hard as he can. Your voice gets higher and higher, your headache getting intense with the ruts on your cunt. And with how he stretches and grazes your walls? Jesus, it was terrible to control yourself, your orgasm increasing by the second. “I wanna cumm, ‘kunaaa, let me cum on you, pleaseee….!!”
“Heh, desperate to tighten some more for me, huh.” He adds more weight onto you, forcing you to submit to him. You shudder under his bow, “You may now cum, dove.” 
As if on command, you let yourself loose and allow the climax to finally be free, wailing during yet another crescendo as your vagina flutters around him for the fourth time that night. And Sukuna relishes the feeling of you tightening on him, doing excruciating slow strokes to enjoy the moment. 
“Hmmm, that’s it, just like that…Remember this, princess,” He bends down to lick the tears on your cheeks before kissing them. “Know your place.” He then brings the phone back up to close this session.
“Now smile for me.”
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requests/thirsts are open hehe~ 🧸
© 𝐇𝐨𝐬𝐡𝐢𝐠𝐫𝐚𝐲 – reblogs and comments are wholeheartedly appreciated ☆ header edit done by me, dividers by @/benkeibear.
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studioghibelli · 3 months
Text
always yours- a joel miller x reader
summary: joel has carried guilt with him his entire life, especially after losing you many years ago. you were young and naive, and joel was cold and distant, a match that simply wasn’t meant to be. (so he thought.) when he and ellie finally make it to wyoming, he’s in for the surprise of a lifetime.
warnings: joel pov for a bit, pining, so so much pining, ellie and joel dynamics, a lot of angst, various flashbacks throughout the story, guilt is one of the main themes of this piece of writing, a rather large age gap that is the center of joel’s guilt, a very brief mention of joel having sex with another woman (tess), post outbreak, and of course- smut. (allusion to m receiving oral, brief female masturbation, unprotected sex, cream pie, f receiving oral, some dirty talk.) mdni
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The smell of pine swirled lazily in the air, the promise of a fresh snowstorm making its way through the tree line like the wafting scent of slow baking cookies. The white ground crunched beneath Joel’s leather boots, imprinting the shadow of their soles into the thick wintered earth. With each step his bones ached, shoulders heavy with the fate of the world.
Behind him, a figure trucked lazily behind, giggles occasionally filling his ears.
“What’re you up to back there?”
“Hey, hey. Check this one out, Joel. Why did the can crusher quit his job?” There was a long moment of silence. “Because it was….. soda pressing. Ha! Get it?” Ellie jogged closer to Joel, nudging him with her elbow. “Do you- do you get it, Joel?”
A heavy grunt escaped the man. “Yeah, I get it.” A tooth pick hung loosely from his lips as he glanced down at the girl, a slow roll of his eyes following.
“Want to hear some more?”
“I’d rather not.”
“Okay. Okay… that’s fine.” Ellie cleared her throat, humming as she took in the world around her. “I do have something on my mind. Something real heavy.”
Joel looked at her, his eyes glossed over with a hint of concern. “What is it?”
“Last week I….I-” Ellie paused, sniffling a bit, feigning a look of guilt. “Last week I called someone a watering hole, but I swear I meant well!”
Joel stopped, his jaw clenching momentarily before he met the gaze of Ellie who, in the midst of her terrible joke, was choking back a roar of laughter. He sighed out, shoulder slacking, before giving in to the chuckle stuck in his throat.
“Okay, okay. That wasn’t half bad, I’ll give you that.”
“You’re laughing! I made you laugh! I know you liked that one.”
“I did. Don’t know what’s wrong with me.” Joel shook his head with the hint of a grin teasing against his mouth. “Now quit with the shitty jokes, alright? You’ll miss the scenery.”
Ellie saluted him sternly, giving him a thick nod. “Aye, aye, Captain!” She declared.
Joel sucked in a thick breath.
You were staring at him, with your big, beautiful eyes, gnawing on a stale, unseasoned piece of venison jerky. The flickering flames of the campfire in front of you illuminated your face with glimmering sheens of orange, blanketing the hue of your skin with crimson and gold. A sunset, personified.
He stared at you, long and hard, analyzing every inch of you, taking in your beauty. He wanted to drown in it. The softness of you lips, the apples of your cheeks, the bridge of your nose. Joel wondered how smooth your skin was, how the curve of your waist would feel against his calloused palms, how the heat of your breath would feel fanning against his throat. His eyes dragged down to your small hands, eyeing your manicured nails. What shape would they imprint upon his skin?
“Who the fuck made this shit, Joel?” You guffawed, rubbing your eye with your free fist. “I hate jerky. Tired of it!”
“Well, you’ve just never had good jerky. Before the end times, we had lots of good brands. Jack Link was pretty popular. Was my favorite.” Joel looked at you, a stray curl falling against his forehead as he set the paper bag down. “Ever heard of them?”
“No. Never. When…. all this happened, I was too young to remember. I’ve got no memories from that time, honestly.”
It was a simple statement. One that shouldn’t have made Joel’s stomach clench and turn. Yet it reminded him. It reminded him of his age, of your youth, your naïveté. His chest tightened with the deep feeling of wrongness, the bitter taste of guilt like bile in the back of his throat.
“Don’t, uh, don’t remind me.” Joel mumbled, rubbing the back of his neck.
You, none the wiser to the war raging on in his mind, laughed sweetly, saluting him lazily as you finished the last of your venison jerky. “Aye, aye, captain!”
“Hey.”
“Hey!”
“Heyyyy!”
Joel’s neck snapped towards the noise, where Ellie stood still, leaning against the thick trunk of a pine tree. “Huh?”
“Dude, you were just standing there. Like a fuckin’ statue. You okay? I thought you were dying.”
Joel rubbed a scruffy cheek, the thick bristles of hair irritating his fingers as he stared into the distance, taking in a deep breath before resuming his walking. “I’m fine. Let’s jus’ keep goin’, onwards and upwards. Should be there in a day or so.”
“Whatever you say, man.” Ellie kicked a stray pebble in front of her, jogging every so often to meet the long strides of Joel.
In front of her, Joel was lost in deep thought.
He felt the ache of remorse tugging at his heart. A reminder it still worked. A reminder he was still human, still alive and breathing. A human, a man, who hoped and yearned and craved and cried. A man who loved. This remorse, this pain, this guilt, that had corroded away at his soul piece by piece, kept him stable and nailed to the ground. It was a nudge towards the idea that perhaps after all these years of killing, after the taste of blood and haze of destruction, perhaps his heart was still capable of something good, something right.
Joel thought he was right, when he did what he did. Even with the tsunami of tears threatening your eyes, even with the quivering of your lip, the tight furrow of your brows, the embarrassment on your face- even with the sheer look of pain and betrayal that you wore like a masquerade mask- Joel felt that what he did was for the best. That the line in the sand he carved with his own bare hands would help you in the end.
“Don’t look at me like that.” Joel warned, pointing a finger at you. “Don’t look at me like that, girl.”
“Why?” There was a shrill crack to your syllables, a dejected figure emerging from the shadows of your mouth. “Does it make you feel bad? Am I hurting your feelings?”
“This is worse enough as is. I don’t need you flashin’ them puppy dog eyes at me. Ain’t gonna change a thing.”
“So you just used me. Fucked my mouth until you got what you wanted. And now what, Miller? Now what? Gonna ignore me? Gonna start doin’ runs with Tess again like there was nothing between us?” Venom dripped from your incisors as you took a step towards him. Your tears, your sadness, the heavy weight of your heart had been replaced with rage. Burning hot rage. It consumed you until it was oozing from you, spilling from your eyes, your mouth, your nostrils. It was you.
“Yeah. That’s what I’m goin’ to do. ‘Cause you’re right, kid. There wasn’t shit between us.”
Ellie’s humming brought him back to reality, clearing his mind of any thoughts, before she broke the silence with a dreadful question:
“Did you ever have any girlfriends, back at the QZ in Boston?”
“Told you not to ask me any questions like that.”
“I know, I know. But it seems like things with you and…. with you and Tess were weird. I remember what she said, how she never asked you to feel what she felt.” Ellie cleared her throat, gripping ahold of the straps on her backpack. “But, you know, it got me thinking. If someone as cool as Tess liked an old fart like you, some other chicks would have had to, too. Right?”
Joel sighed a deep, tired sigh, rubbing at his temples. “Me and Tess…. we weren’t. We- just. No. Tess and I, there was nothing there.”
Ellie held her hands up in defense. “Okay, okay. Geez, no need to throw a bitch fit, asshole.”
“Watch it.” He grumbled, adjusting the strap of his rifle. “But there was one girl.”
“Really? What was she like? What was her name? What did she look like?”
“Slow down, Ellie, slow down. Way too many questions. I’ll answer one. One! So pick wisely.”
Ellie walked in silence for a moment, rubbing her cheeks in thought as though she had a beard. She nodded with a sense of finality, catching up with Joel’s long strides. “Why did you like her?”
Why did Joel like you? Why did he love you? What was so special about you that Joel, a man concrete in his stoicism, a man lost in his own selfish, distant ways, could crumble at the sheer thought of you? What was so special about your sparkling eyes that made his chest pound? What was so special about your soft voice that made his jaw slack? What was so special about your gentle touch that made his body shiver?
How could a giant such as Joel Miller come crashing down at the feet of someone like you? Someone so pure, so happy, so kind and thoughtful? How could Joel have ever let something like that happen? How could he have been such a fool?
“Hello? Earth to Joel.” Ellie waved her hand in front of Joel’s face, eliciting a groan.
“Um…” He scratched at his chin.
“When I was a little girl all I wanted, the one thing that mattered most to me in the world, was to go to the zoo. My momma used to tell me all these stories. How you could touch the stingrays, feed the giraffes… But you know what I want to see most of all? The gorillas.”
Joel was staring out the window, keeping watch as you shuffled through the drawers of the abandoned room, looking for extra stuff that could be worth smuggling. His eyes scanned the road, but he was mostly interested in listening to you. Quickly and slyly he turned to look at you.
He saw the glimmer glistening through your gaze, the smile lines crinkling ever so slightly at the corners of your eyes as your pretty lips turned up into a big grin. Your face was aglow with passion, your heart pinned proudly to your sleeve. You were the exact opposite of him when it came to that, it only drew him closer, like a moth to a flame.
“The zoo? I went to the zoo. Took my daughter all the time to the one in Austin. Never saw a gorilla though, not up close. Just on the Animal Planet.”
“Animal Planet?”
And there it was, that familiar twinge of guilt. “Yeah. It was a TV Channel.” Joel explained with a grimace, his voice soft and quiet. “You, uh, you find anything good yet?”
“Nah. Just a half empty box of condoms and some bandaids.”
“Condoms? We could use those.” Joel explained, turning to you quickly.
A look of surprise crept on to your face. You hoped you hid the butterflies erupting in your stomach well enough. Surely it was a slip of tongue, you thought- Joel was never forward like that.
Realization soon dawned on his face when his words finally settled in. “Not….. not us, I mean. For- for trading. Could get some ration cards. The, I mean- I would never be…. I- Uh.” A guttural noise of defeat escaped him as he slumped into the wall, groaning deeply against the palms of his hands that his face was now buried in. “Forget I said anything.” Joel seethed through gritted teeth.
“You sure do have a way with words, cowboy.” You teased. A beautiful laugh, one that haunted Joel, escaped your chest as you threw the box of condoms towards him. “There you go, lover boy.”
“Her laugh.” Joel finally broke the silence, his eyes secured to the track in front of him. “She was always laughing. Real happy, curious, always day dreaming. She was….”
“The exact opposite of you.” Ellie filled in, laughing to herself. “Man, she sounds great. And she liked you back?”
“I said one question a day.”
“But-”
“No buts. You can ask another one tomorrow.”
“Well, can you at least tell me her name?”
Before Joel could stop himself, the syllables of your name rolled from his tongue. He hadn’t spoken it out loud in years. He promised himself he wouldn’t, not after losing you. But it escaped him quicker than he could stop it, like a dog running from its cage, sniffing its way to freedom.
Ellie repeated it to herself. “That’s real pretty.” She hummed in approval, and Joel continued walking, his eyes stirring with the burning hot threat of tears.
Angry, regretful, bitter tears.
“Have you seen her anywhere?” Joel was pacing his room, frantically throwing supplies on to the bed. “Did she- did she say anything? Where she was going? What she was doing?”
“Joel.” Tess’ voice rang through the air. “Joel.”
“What? I need to get to her, God dammit.”
“She’s gone, Joel. Said she left four days ago. You won’t be able to find her.” Tess rested a hand on his shoulder as she sat down on the edge of the mattress, looking up at the disheveled, broken man before her.
“This is all my fault.” A single sob racked through his body as he fell down beside her. “Putting a gun to her head and pulling the trigger would have been the exact same thing. She’ll die out there, Tess.” Joel buried his face in his hands as he fell back, jaw clenching in unison with his flaring nostrils as he sat and stewed in the crashing waves of resentment. “She’s going to die, and I won’t be there to protect her.”
Teas traced her hand down the broadness of Joel’s back, taking in a sharp breath. “You’re right. Better move on now, we have work to do. If you’re going to get over it someday, you might as well do it now.” If there was one thing Tess wasn’t going to do, it was sugar coat things. Especially not for Joel fucking Miller. “So get up, stop crying, and do your fucking job. You got it?”
That night Joel drunkenly fucked Tess with her face in the pillow and ass in the air, and the whole time he imagined it was you.
Dusk was soon approaching by the time Joel had rolled out his and Ellie’s sleeping bags. The canvas of the sunset was being torn apart by sparkling stars, the moon illuminating the snow covered trees surrounding them. It was a quiet, peaceful night, shrouded with the sort of yearning and hope that only came once the sun set.
“Can we start a fire? Please, Joel?” Ellie was shivering beneath her sleeping bag, pulling her jacket tighter to her chest.
“Use my bag. I’ll take watch while you sleep.”
“We’ve been walking for like, a hundred hours. You need sleep too. Nobody will find us here. We’re in the middle of butt fuck nowhere.”
“You don’t know that. Now take my bag or stop whining.” Joel’s voice was gruff as he sat against the tree, the light of the lantern illuminating the hardness of his face.
“Okay, geez. Don’t have to be an asshole.”
“Go to sleep, Ellie.”
Joel hadn’t meant to fall asleep. He never liked sleeping, for many different reasons. The lack of control, the possibility of danger, the lurking nightmares about his past. But most of all, he hated sleeping because they brought him dreams of you.
In the beginning, when he had you, dreams of your body, or your face, of your voice- they were all welcomed. He would wake up in his mattress, bathing like a cat in the golden rays of sunshine, and would go about his day slightly less grumpy. Not a changed man, by any means, but how could a man be completely cold and detached after a visit from an angel?
But now these dreams were different. He would wake, not quite remembering them in their entirety, but always feeling the heavy burden of loss thick in his mouth, like phlegm during a nasty cold. For the rest of the day he would think of you, unable to shake the memory of your face away from his mind. You had branded him like a cow at the slaughterhouse.
Joel knew he was yours forever, always yours, despite the pitter pattering footsteps of guilt that followed him around like a needy child.
Tonight, he dreamed of his past memories with you.
“Oh, this is a good one.” Joel hummed out as he turned the record player up ever so slightly. “This is Nat King Cole. My mom used to play his stuff while she was cookin’.”
Sometimes I wonder how I spend the lonely night,
Dreaming of a song. The melody, haunts my reverie,
And I am once again with you, when our love was new.
“He’s got a nice voice.” You quipped. You swung your legs off the desk, walking towards him before extending your hand.
He looked at you like you were crazy. “What’re you doin’?”
“Dance with me.”
“Dancin’ is a dangerous game. I ain’t no good at it.”
“That doesn’t matter. Come on. Just dance with me, cowboy!” Your giggles ignited the air with sparks of comfort, warming Joel’s body through with the familiar pang of affection he so often suffered from when he was around you. He thought on it for a moment before letting out a long sigh.
“Fine. But if you tell anyone about this I’ll… I’ll…”
“You’ll what? Spank me? Come on, just live a little. If it was actually the end of the world none of us would be here. So be alive and human with me tonight, and dance.”
Joel stood, looking down at you as his hands found your body. He rested one palm against the small dip of your waist, his other finding your hand, quickly engulfing it, wrapping around your fingers like a blanket. You swayed, barely shuffling your feet, a smile of contentment washing across your face.
“See?” You hummed. “This is nice.”
He stayed silent, swaying with you to the crooning voice of Nat King Cole. Joel sucked in a sharp breath as your cheek rested against his chest. He ran his hand down to the small of your back, instinctively pulling you closer.
And now my consolation is in the stardust of a song,
Besides the garden wall when stars are bright,
You are in my arms, a paradise where roses grew
Though I dream in vain…
“Joel?” You whispered, craning your neck to look up at him.
His eyelids fluttered open, lips parting ever so softly as his eyes met yours. Chocolate irises, flashes of gold glittering within them, drunk every inch of your face up, memorizing you as thought it was the last time he’d ever see you. “Hmm?”
“Will you kiss me?” The question escaped you before you could think, your eyes slightly widening at the boldness which preceded you.
Joel stopped swaying. He looked down at you, a thumb slowly tracing across your cheekbone.
“I’m sorry. I don’t know what came over me. I- I wasn’t thinking.” Your face was hot with embarrassment, and your hand on his shoulder quickly dropped.
Joel remained quiet as he gently grabbed your fallen hand, moving it back to his shoulder, up towards his face, until you were cupping his cheek. “You really want me to?” He asked softly, curiously, his thumb gently running across your lower lip. You nodded without hesitation.
He leaned forward, the curve of his nose brushing against the tip of yours as he moved both of his hands to hold your face, eyes open and staring in to yours, as though he were trying to make his way through your soul. A stabbing breath hitched in the back of your throat as you gently pressed your body to his, lips mere centimeters away.
“Joel…” You whispered softly.
He paused right before your mouth, eyes now full of remorse, wide and guilty like a petulant child who had just been caught red handed. When he spoke, you felt his moustache tickle your cupid’s bow.
“I… I can’t. I can’t do it.”
“Do you not like me?”
“That’s not the issue, darlin’. It’s the… opposite of that, actually. But I just- I… I gotta go. I’ll stop by tomorrow with some more ration cards.” Joel pulled away from your body, rushing to the door.
“Joel, wait. Joel!” But before you could stop him, he had already left. Your heard his footsteps soon disappear, left with nothing but the scratching vinyl.
In my heart, it will remain
My stardust melody
The memory of love’s refrain.
Joel awoke with a violent jerk, to the bitter smell of coffee and the bright warning of morning light.
“Wakey, wakey sleepy head. Made you some coffee!” Ellie smiled at Joel as she dug her heels into the dying fire, handing Joel the metal cup of brown liquid.
“I told you no fires, Ellie. Someone could see us.”
“It’s fine. It’ll be okay. And if anyone comes and tries to hurt us, I’ll use my super slick Ninja skills I learned on ‘em! Promise! Now drink your nasty bean juice and let’s get going.” Ellie rolled up the sleeping bags as Joel stared into space, sipping his coffee before dumping the rest of it out.
“How long was I out for?”
Ellie shrugged, walking beside him as they made their way towards the open valley. “No clue. But you were muttering to yourself. Woke me up.”
“Was I? Mutterin’ what?”
Ellie looked at him, a small, sad smile playing on her mouth. When she said your name, his stomach turned. That beautiful name. That terrible, awful name that haunted him at every corner. It crept through his mind like a ghost, in and out of the hallway of his memories, refusing to ever leave.
“Weird.” Joel finally said, after a long, thick, uncomfortable silence. “Let’s…. let’s head out now.”
An hour or so had passed, hiking through the forest towards the open valley, before Ellie realized Joel had been whistling. She had never heard him whistle before. And, like always, her curiosity got the better of her.
“What is that?” She asked.
“What’s what?” Joel answered, looking around to try and pin down what she was talking about.
“The song you’re whistling. What is it? I like it.”
“Oh.” Joel hadn’t noticed he had been making any noise. “It’s called Stardust. An old song, before my time even.”
“Who’s it by?”
“There are a few renditions, I can’t remember who did it first. My favorite version was by Nat King Cole.” Joel explained, clearing a makeshift path through the jutting branches and scratching leaves.
“I’ve got my one question, you know.” Ellie stated with a wiggle of her eyebrows. “About her.”
“M’kay. Make it quick.” His voice grumbled out lowly like an over worked furnace, eyebrows tight together as he walked ahead of her.
“Where’d she go?” Ellie finally mustered up the courage to ask the question, slowly looking at Joel’s back. She noticed how it stiffened at the question, and for a moment she regretted ever asking anything.
But Joel’s voice was uncharacteristically soft. “What do you mean?” He finally choked out, clearing his throat.
“Like, if you liked her so bad, why isn’t she with us? You’ve protected me all this way. I-… I can’t imagine the lengths you would go for someone you actually liked.” Ellie joked, trying to lighten the air, the air which had suddenly grown so chewable, so thick and stuffy.
“I don’t hate you, kid.” Joel mumbled, rubbing at his face. “She, uh, she left. While I was out doin’ a run with Tess. Just up and vanished. No note, no nothin’.”
Ellie could feel the pain radiating from Joel, although she couldn’t quite pin point it in his words. He was good at hiding things like that. You don’t spend months with a person and not pick up their habits.
“How long ago was that?” She asked quietly, softly.
“‘Bout three years before I met you.”
“That’s a long time.”
“Yeah.” Joel muttered. “Now, no more questions until tomorrow.”
“Okay.” Ellie grumbled, watching her feet as she walked.
“Joel!” His name tangled through the air, breathless and wanting. His ear was pressed to the door, hand on the door knob. Waiting. Thinking. Pondering.
Your legs were spread open, jeans halfway down your legs, panties to the side as your middle finger lazily rubbed circles in your clit, your free hand kneading against your exposed breast, chest flushed with the hot hand of want. No. Of need.
You couldn’t get the image out of your head. Slick curls pushed back, lips turned into a scowl, bulging arms chopping at the thick log of wood like it owed him something. You remember the rage swirling in his eyes, dark and angry, knitted brows tight and bold. Why was he so god damn hot when he was livid?
“Oh, God. Fuck.” Your whimpers filled his ears, well- his good ear, at least- and Joel felt his jeans beginning to tighten.
Something overtook Joel. Something primal, something instinctual, because before he had a chance to think, he was barging in to your room, mind empty with thoughts only of you, of your pleasure. You jumped with a squeal of surprise, face coated with embarrassment, grabbing a pillow to try and cover yourself up. It was a fruitless attempt, because Joel still saw exactly what he wanted to see. You.
“Joel! Oh God. Jesus Christ….. how-how much of that did you hear?” You wanted to cry. To deteriorate into a pile of rubble would have been your best option. Anything to not have to deal with his gaze. Stern, unreadable, dark. Your heart was slamming against your chest.
“I heard enough.” He whispered, slowly stepping towards you.
You blinked the forming tears of embarrassment away quickly, propping yourself up better on your elbows, finally garnering the courage to look up at him, right in his eyes. A long, deep, sensual gaze steaming from him.
Joel reached for you hesitantly, his hand gently grabbing your knee. A rough thumb traced circles into your skin, smooth and vanilla scented from the lotion he had smuggled for you on a particularly boring run. He watched the way your skin pricked with goosebumps, the way your leg leaned in to his touch. You wanted this. He knew, looking into your eyes, so soft and tender with desire, that he was the only thing on your mind.
“Please,” you whispered, voice shaking in the dimly lit room. “Please touch me, Joel.”
When he finally gathered the courage to lean forward, when those horrible thoughts of shame that so often plagued him had been pushed to the back of his mind, he heard Tess shouting his name in the distance.
When Joel saw Tommy for the first time in ages, he could barely contain himself. He embraced his little brother, tight and hard, feeling the familiar heat of tears welling in the pits of his eyes.
As dusk soon pulled across the sky, Tommy made sure to tell Joel which house would be his. “House 37! Two lefts and a right.” Tommy reminded him, as he jogged away to meet Maria.
It was only until he reached the movie theatre that Tommy realized he gave Joel the wrong number. Oh well, he thought to himself, Joel will figure it out.
The hot water cascaded down Joel’s back, steam dancing through the air, covering him in a warm blanket, the smell of vanilla body wash filling his nostrils. Vanilla. It reminded him so much of you. Of that night, the night he almost had a taste of you. You were so close, yet still managed to remain just out of reach.
Joel was so preoccupied with his thoughts of you, you, you, that he hadn’t heard the front door downstairs open.
• • •
It had been a particularly long and exhausting day for you. You had been posted a mile south in a rundown factory, keeping watch for Raiders as a group of workers focused their abilities on turning the old building into a new extension of your town.
Maria wanted to turn it in to a greenhouse and new horse stable. With the newest colt in town, Shimmer, she figured horse breeding could be a bright part of their future, and if it grew well and but enough, they could extend further out into the wilderness.
Well, that was Maria’s dream. But you had seen how slow these workers went about their business, how they often broke into fights and managed to forget their tasks entirely. How Maria had ever cultivated this place…. well, that was beyond you.
Your thoughts were full of Joel.
Joel, Joel, Joel.
He was a hard worker. Persistent and tenacious, strong and able, stern and forthright- he was everything you wanted in a man. He was just like the knights you would read about, yet he had a twinge of anti-hero that always enticed you, always pulled you in closer.
Thinking about Joel was always draining. You missed his laugh, gritty and low and never that frequent. You missed his hands, well worked and scarred. You missed his eyes, deep and mysterious and full of something that you could never quite pin point.
After these long day dreams with him at the forefront, it left you craving a life you had never gotten to live with him, a life you had never known.
By the time you reached your house it was dark, and your feet ached from the long trek. You felt much older than you actually were. Taking your boots off, you noticed the hallway light upstairs was on.
“Weird.” You whispered to yourself, ultimately shrugging it off as you switched it off, walking to your room.
The door was shut. Double weird. You lived alone, and almost always forgot to shut your door.
The bathroom door was ajar, and you saw steam swirling out of it, yet the shower was off.
“Okay, what the fuck.” You hissed, reaching for your knife. You had already turned your gun in. Hand to hand combat…. well, that would have to do, even if it wasn’t your strong suit.
Behind the closed door of your master suite, you hear someone opening up drawers. “God dammit, Tommy!” You heard a muffled snarl, and your eyes widened.
You dropped the knife, clattering against the carpet with a faint cling, as you brought your hands to your head. No. No. This wasn’t happening. It couldn’t be him. Surely not.
You rarely spoke to Tommy. You heard he had a brother named Joel here and there, but you never asked. Never gave any part of yourself away. To the people of Jackson City, you were quiet and reserved- kind, always- but haunted by something.
No, by someone.
Your hand was shaking. The metal door knob was cold on your palm, shivers coursing straight down your spine. With a quivering lip, you barely had time to turn the handle before the door flung open, thoughts of self defense and protection miles away.
A figure, huffing with annoyance, stood in front of you. A white shirt stretched taut against a broad chest, sweatpants hanging on a low waist, a bundle of dirty clothes resting in his arm. His arm. His familiar, tanned, muscular arm.
Joel.
Joel. Joel.
The syllable rolled around your brain, head empty as you gathered the courage to slowly look up at the man. His eyes were wide, lips parted in surprise as he stared at you. Both of you stood, in the midst of a proper western stand off, the air stagnant around your bodies.
Neither of you said a word. How could you? What was there to say? You blinked rapidly, rubbing at your eyelids in an attempt to spook the apparition of Joel Miller away. Surely it was a ghost. Perhaps you were finally losing your mind. Perhaps the end of the world had caught up with you.
You went to speak, but a gargled mess of noises were all you could come up with.
Before you had a chance to correct yourself, he had scooped you up in to the tightest hug of your life.
Joel’s left arm was wrapped around your waist, pressing you close to his chest, while his right laid across your back, his large hand pressed into the back of your head. You grasped ahold of him, fingers digging into his skin as you tried to make sense of what was going on.
Before you could catch them, tears were flowing from your eyes, staining his shirt with a puddle of wimpy cries.
“Shh.” He cooed, voice shaking. “I’m right here. I’m here.” Joel held you as though you would vanish if he let go, slowly falling to the floor with you tightly pressed to him. He cradled you in his lap, strong arms secure and steadfast around your body. Joel wasn’t planning on letting go anytime soon.
When you finally looked up, you saw his own cheeks west with the ghosts of previous tears.
“Oh.” You whimpered, touching his face gingerly. “I haven’t seen this face in so long. Look at you.”
“Look at you.” He countered, thumb tracing down the apple of your cheek. “You’ve only grown more beautiful.”
“How… are you…. you’re the Joel Tommy mentioned? How could I have been so stupid.” You whispered, shaking your head.
“How long have you been here?”
“Two years. Managed to find a group of mercs, travelled with them to Kansas City before FEDRA got ahold of them. I was the only one to escape and, somehow, I found myself in this place.” You explained, his face now cupped in your hands.
His lips looked so tantalizing. The thing you wanted most in this world, right in this moment, was for Joel to kiss you. Hard. Deep. Passionately.
Joel looked down at you. He knew that look. Knew those emotions in your eyes, knew the way you looked when desire overtook your being.
He was so tired of being scared, so tired of the shame and guilt that followed him like smoke.
“Can I kiss you?” He finally asked, taking a thick gulp.
You nodded slowly. “Kiss me.”
And he did. It was just as you had always imagined. Soft and sweet, deep and passionate. Your mouths molded together as though they were two puzzle pieces created for each other. It felt right. It felt good. It felt…. perfect. The way you had dreamed it would.
You shifted in his lap so you were straddling him, arms thrown around his neck as you beckoned him closer, his palms pressed firmly into your sides as he held you in place. You both knew you weren’t going anywhere.
You parted your lips as his hungry tongue swept against you, gently exploring your mouth, tasting your spit, the minty residue of your now thrown away gun mixing with his mouth. Joel groaned as you shuffled, and you felt the bulge in his sweatpants where his cock was getting harder and bigger.
You had seen his dick before. Once. When you both stumbled to your room drunk and you had given him a blowjob. The best blowjob of his life, as Joel remembered. He had held you by the hair, barely touching you except a gentle brush of his hand down your cheek after he had finished down your throat. You remembered how his eyes had engulfed you, how you watched as he seared the image of you on your knees into the recesses of his memory.
That was the closest you two had ever got, the farthest he had ever dared to go. And even then, it was selfish of him. He went to bed under the heavy blanket of ignominy, and he swore he would never do it again. He was drunk, Joel assured himself, it wasn’t like he….. loved you or anything. Right?
But now, with his tongue searching your throat and his hungry hands feeling their way around his skin, with the way your clothed bodies moved in harmony against the scratchy carpet of the hallway floor, what else could it be? Lust? No. Lust doesn’t last like this. It sizzles away at the prospect of someone new. No, no. You both knew what it was. Love. But you both too fearful to admit it.
“Joel.” You whispered against his mouth. He opened his eyes at the sound of his name, the way it so sweetly rolled off your tongue.
“Yes?”
“Take me to bed.” Your words stuttered against themselves as you took in a heavy heave of breath. “Take me to bed… and make me yours.”
Joel swallowed the tight lump dangling at the back of his throat. He had two options. One, say no and push you away. Two, give in to his deepest desires and fall further into this love he had tried so hard to forget.
The last time he chose one, you ran half way across the country.
He was a smart man, Joel. He knew exactly which one to pick. No more would he run.
He scooped you up into his arms wordlessly, carrying you to your neatly made bed. Your hair splayed across the white pillows, your doe eyes staring up at him, full of yearning, full of want.
You watched with hawk-like eyes as he slid his shirt off, moving to do the same before Joel stopped you.
“No. I want to undress you myself.” You swallowed thickly at his command, nodding as your neck grew hot with desire.
When Joel was left with nothing but his boxers on, you drunk his image in. A small tuff of hair rested above the hem of his underwear. His belly was soft, and stray curls of hair dotted across his broad chest. His shoulders were strong, broad, welcoming.
You looked up into his face, eyelashes fluttering.
He had a few more wrinkles, a lot more gray in his hair. There were a few more scars etched into his skin, a darker tint to his eyes. He had aged. But so had you.
You had always liked your men older, anyways.
Joel Miller was the man of your fucking dreams, and he was standing nearly naked in front of you.
“Up.” He motioned for you to sit up and you did without hesitation. A smile crossed his mouth as he cupped your cheek. “So good for me.” Joel murmured, slowly peeling your shirt off.
“For you.” You whispered with finality.
He nodded, eyes twinkling with….. happiness. Joel worked the lace of the leather boots you wore, carefully pulling them off your feet before sliding his hands towards the zipper of your jeans. He watched your face as he slowly unbuttoned them, stripping them from your legs. He watched the way your lips parted with desire, the way your eyelids shut as the feeling of his hands grazing your skin.
“Look at you.” Joel whispered, and you met his steaming gaze. “So beautiful.” He learned forward, pressing a kiss to the hem of your underwear. “Lay back for me, honey.”
You did as you were told, shivering as his warm hands pried your legs apart. He stared at your clothed pussy, the patch of wetness showcasing your arousal. Joel chewed on his cheek as he drunk the image in, taking in a sharp breath as he discarded your underwear.
And there you finally were. Open and exposed, laid bare for him, and only him. Joel slid down on his stomach, inching his way towards your cunt as he reached forwards, using his thumb to slowly trace down your outer lips.
You shuddered, taking in a deep breath of as your hands snaked to his head, running your fingers through his thick curls, watching his finger slowly move. You saw him spread you open, you pink, wet pussy on display for his searing gaze.
“Ain’t that a sight.” He hummed out. “This all for me?” His voice was smug. He knew. And you knew he knew.
“All for you.” You admitted, pushing a stray curl out of his eyes.
“Bet you taste real nice, too.” Joel leaned forward, extending his tongue as he swept it flat across your clit. This made you whimper out, your grip on his hair tightening. “Just as I thought. Sweetest thing I ever had.”
Your head fell back onto the pillows as he wrapped this lips around your swelling clit, sucking softly at the button. He was holding back, his movements teasingly gentle. You were squirming for him, nails digging into his scalp, your breath begging for me.
Joel pulled back, much to your dismay, and rubbed his middle finger against your entrance. He slowly pushed it in, grunting quietly.
“God, you’re so fuckin’ tight, honey. Can’t wait to feel you stretched against my cock.”
“Oh, God. Joel, please.” You murmured, watching as he resumed his tongue against your clit, swirling and flicking. Your thighs were shaking on his shoulders, where you hadn’t even realized you had propped them up.
Joel chuckled against your pussy, savoring the sweetness of your arousal, letting it coat his tongue like sugar. He lapped at your clit, middle finger slowly hitting up against that spot, coaxing you closer towards an orgasm.
“If-if you don’t stop Joel, I-I’m gonna cum.”
“Babydoll, that’s what I want.” He responded smugly, sucking harder at your clit.
“B-but I want to cum on your cock. I-I’ll be too sensitive.” You explained, hips grinding as your fingers pulled at his curls even more.
“We’ll see about that.”
Joel added his ring finger into your pussy, pushing and pumping into you, wanton noises of filth filling your ears. You cried out his name, right on the brink of orgasm, as Joel continued his same movements, never daring to stray or pause.
“Joel. Joel! Oh, fuck. Joel. God dammit. Joel, I’m cumming!” You were sure the whole neighborhood could heard but you weren’t half fussed about that at the moment. All you knew was his mouth was drawing you in to the most earth shattering orgasm of your life.
Tears pricked your eyes as he rode out your climax, his mouth never leaving your clit. His fingers slowed down to a halt, yet his mouth never left your cunt.
You whimpered, trying to push him away from your sensitive pussy, but Joel didn’t let up. He grabbed your thighs, relishing in your moans as he made sure to lick up every drop of your cum, every inch of your wetness. He wanted the flavor of your pussy to be stuck in his mouth for the rest of his life.
You collapsed onto the bed as he slowly pulled away, leaving a hot kiss to each thigh.
“Was that nice?” Joel asked smugly, wiping off his mouth with the back of his hand.
“Shut up, asshole.” You teased, a soft laugh escaping you. “Oh.” You murmured to yourself once you saw the bulge tenting at his boxers. You reached forward, gently grabbing it with your small hand. “Looks like we should do something about this.”
Joel hissed in a sharp breath of air, watching with intent as you tugged off his boxers. He kicked them off, his thick cock slapping against his stomach. He was thick, long, sexy- his cock could have been in a porn magazine, to be frank.
“Yeah, we should do somethin’ ‘bout this.” He had climbed on top of you, hands cupping your head as you glanced up at him with a tantalizing look stuck deep in your eyes.
“Yeah, we should. Fuck me, cowboy.” You whispered, resting your hands on his cheek. “Fuck me like you missed me.”
“I did miss you.” Joel admitted, almost shyly.
“I know.” You ran your hand through his hair, feeling the tip of his cock at your entrance. You sucked in a soft breath of air as he slowly began filling you up, allowing you the time to grow accustomed to the way he felt inside you.
“‘Course you do.” He snorted through gritted teeth, filling you completely up to the hilt.
You groaned softly, wrapping your arms around him as you held him to your chest, smiling up at him softly. “Feels so good.”
Joel buried his face in your neck, slowly moving his hips. “You’re so fuckin’ tight. So fuckin’…. so fuckin’ good for me. A god damned dream.” His words were hot, guttural, melding in to your skin like paint on a canvas.
You shuddered, dragging your nails down the length of his back, resting them on his ass. His movements grew harder, wilder, every inch of his throbbing cock deep within your walls.
“Christ, Joel.”
He groaned against you, propping himself up on his palms to watch your face. His nose brushed against yours as he leaned forward, lips pressing to yours in a burning kiss, igniting your body aflame.
“Love how you say my name.” He whispered as he pulled away from your mouth.
“Joel.” You mumbled, a teasing grin cascading on to your face:
With a smile of his own, Joel’s hand traced across your neck, down your shoulders, fingers tickling the skin of your arm before he reached your hand. Joel held it in his own, lacing your fingers tightly within his, thumb brushing over your knuckles.
His thrusts were steadier now that your eyes were on each others, hand held tightly in his own as he took the feeling of you in. The way your pussy clenched around him, the way your body felt tight on his. He pulled away from you, sitting back a bit as he held your hips, fucking himself in to you.
“Touch your clit.” He ordered, eyes darkening. You swallowed, lowering your hand to your pussy, where you did as you were told. You shivered. “Rub it.” He whispered, voice soft.
You rubbed it, your middle finger circling your swollen clit tenderly.
“You’re going to cum one more time for me. Okay?”
You nodded obediently, gently placing your free hand on to his arm. “Okay.” Your voice was sweet, angelic. It made Joel’s cock twitch, an animalistic grunt soon following.
He looked on with hungry eyes as you played with your pussy, stretching it out for him. You both watched the way his cock filled you up, the way the lips of your pussy strained against him. You whimpered at the sight, wondering how something so big could even possibly fit inside you.
You resumed your masturbation, fingering at your clit as he pumped in to you.
“That’s a good girl, rubbing your clit for me. Such a good fuckin’ girl.” He murmured, eyes glossed over with desire.
“Gonna cum for you again.” You warned, hips bucking.
“Yeah? Cum on my cock, honey. Paint it with your pretty cum.”
That’s all it took to send you over the edge. Your back arched off the mattress as your second orgasm washed over you, vision blurring white. Joel grabbed ahold of you and pulled you up, legs wrapping around his waist as he held you, pumping up into you as you shivered and shuttered against him. You chanted his name like a mantra, crying out against him.
You were eye level now, and Joel has you by the jaw, forcing your eyes to meet his.
“I’m gonna cum inside you. Gonna fill this little pussy up.” He whispered, forehead resting against yours.
“Cum inside me.” You begged, hands moving to his shoulders as he fucked your body on to his cock.
Joel groaned, primal noises filtering out as his dick convulsed inside of you, his hot cum painting the inside of your cunt. You moaned at the feeling of being properly full, grinding against him gently as you sat on his lap, your arms holding each other close and tight.
When his orgasm had subsided and you both fell against the soft mattress, you were still entangled with one another, his dick still stuffed inside you.
You stared at one another as though you had never known anyone else, eyes searching, reaching for the soul, sparkling with love, swimming with adoration.
His fingers traced down your back, resting on your thigh as he brought you closer.
“I’m sorry I left.” You whispered, your hand resting on the side of his neck. “I… I didn’t know what to do with all of it.”
“All of what?” Joel asked, voice deep and quiet.
“All of the love I had for you.” You sniffled, nuzzling your cheek into his. “Have.” You corrected.
“Have?” A smirk was tugging at his voice.
You took in a deep breath, bravely nodding your head. “Have. I…. you know I do.”
Joel rested his head against yours, looking down at you. “I’ve always known.”
A moment of silence fell over your bodies.
“I don’t think it’s goin’ anywhere, either.”
“Good.” Joel whispered, his dark eyes meeting yours. “I want it. All of it. ‘Til the day I die.”
“It’s yours, Joel. Always yours.”
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hwaitham · 6 months
Text
𝓯𝓸𝓷𝓭𝓪𝓷𝓽 𝓫𝓪𝓫𝔂 𝓭𝓸𝓵𝓵 𓈒 ˖ ࣪ 𝜗𝜚 ‎
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wriothesley x sub!f!reader . nsfw — mdni . rewrite + repost from old blog ノ established relationship ノ daddy kink ノ breeding ノ oral [ m -> f ] ノ dirty talkin' ooo finger suckin' ooooo (๑ ˃̵͈́ᵕ˂̵͈̀ ) ノ infantilization + mindbreak ノ praise ノ lotsa petnames [ babydoll + little girl + princess + sweetheart + baby ] ノ sappie wuvie dovie sex bcos ! ! well :3 it's me !
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the fortress of meropide’s pankration ring is vacant now— three hours after the stronghold’s annual boxing spectacle, two hours after champagne showers, one hour after all the prisoners and gardes have made their way back to their sleeping quarters.
the fortress of meropide’s pankration ring is vacant now, nearly— it’s pitch black, nearly, save for the warm yellow flickers of the half-functioning light fixture hanging above the ring’s canvas, the image it casts on the rusty steel walls of two bodies pressed together.
a dancing shadow of your back curling into a perfect arch off the floor, the tilts and turns of wriothesley’s head as he fervently suckles on your clit with alcohol-stained lips, the heels of your frilly-socked feet digging further into his shoulder blades, toes wriggling within the lavender fabric.
“daddy—!”
“pussy tastes so good—”
“pleasepleaseplease— won’t last if you keep— h-huuughh…”
“so fuckin’ sweet— shit, babydoll.”
it’s not like your lover to dirty talk you like this— obscenely and unabashedly and so greedily— licking and sucking and slurping and huffing, blunt nails digging into the plush of your thighs, past the white stockings he’s fortuitously torn off your legs where he now leaves little mauve moons upon your skin.
your lover is usually all grunts and groans and whines that get tangled in his throat— but you adore it when he gets like this. you adore it when he gets all touchy and clingy and desperate for your love after he’s knocked back a couple drinks, you adore the carnivorous growl in his voice when he tells you, fuck, princess, need you so bad, you adore the shower of praise and kisses and bold touches where his heart lies in his fingertips and he smudges lines of pink and red all over your flesh.
“pretty little pussy’s all mine… look at you, sweet thing practically drooling for daddy, yeah?” wriothesley moans, speaking more to your cunt instead of you, and pulls away, slick strung in a thin ribbon that connects his lip to the pearl of your clit. he watches how your hole twitches and clamps around air as it searches for something that only he can give you— hungry and ready with how much of your sticky cream oozes from it and drips down the globe of your ass, soaks the silk of his scarlet boxing robe that you lay atop of.
and your daddy’s right— it is practically drooling, so pathetically leaking for him. 
“fuckin’ gorgeous.”
a glob of saliva builds under his tongue at the sight, and he gathers it in the purse of his lips before spitting it out onto your pussy, watching the frothy bubbles cling to your skin, laughing lowly when you begin to whimper and writhe beneath him, knead biscuits on his chest in a weak attempt to push him away.
“daddy, ‘s embarrassing when you look, o-oh—!” your protests are shushed when he collects the stringy mixture of his spit and your slick from your pussy and moves back up to meet your lips, kiss you messily.
“ah, ah, ahhh… don’t get all shy on m’now, sweetheart.”
the peach champagne on his tongue hits you after the sugary saltiness of your release, and evidently, you realize he must be drunk by the slur of his words, the greedy paws that cup your pussy, and then grab at your hips, your waist, your breasts.
a sharp glint of bright white has one of your eyes squeezing shut when wriothesley shifts to look down at you, his smile nothing short of beguiling. his frame is wide— broad shoulders and a strapping chest and sinewy arms that you’re caged under, the gold of the medal hanging loosely off his veiny neck reflecting the light from above.
and, oh, wriothesley thinks you look so pretty when the heavy metal thuds against your cheek amidst his soft swaying— he thinks you’ll look even prettier with his victory wrapped around your neck, because what’s his is yours, yours is his; you belong to him and he belongs to you.
he wouldn’t have it any other way.
bringing the gold up to his lips, he places a sweet kiss on it, lowering the medal back down to you so you can place another one right on top of his, baritone voice losing it’s primal growl and replaced with something more silky, loving. “fuck, couldn’t have won this without you.”
your fingers scrabble at one of wriothesley’s hands, holding it tight to your chest— to your heart— because you think the sheer sincerity in his voice is enough to have you losing balance and falling into an abyssal love. but that’s okay, that’s where you belong, deep, drowning in it, because you love him, you love him, you love him.
“love you, i love you, daddy— so, so much; love you forever…”
and the fortress’ duke thinks you just might kill him, with that admission.
with that milky, fuzzy, adoring look in your eyes, and how you press his palm to your heart, serve him your entire soul on a diamond-embedded platter— it cuts into his chest and carves deep into his flesh. your words are flames, and they are but dew on his skin, soothing and healing. 
something knots in his throat; and all of a sudden he feels overwhelmed— by the rush of alcohol in his blood, by how sweet you’re being for him, by the painful ache of his leaky cock as he slides the length up and down your folds, each of his movements decorated by a tiny whimper that’s pried from your throat.
“fuuuuck, haha— love your daddy that much, huh? well, i love you, princess. love you even after forever.” wriothesley hunches over so close to you, cupping your cheeks with such delicate care— as if you’re crafted from the finest porcelain— before he kisses you, and kisses you, and kisses you, and kisses you, shoving an eternity’s worth of promises and secrets down into your lungs.
he pulls back shortly thereafter to admire your kiss-swollen lips, wiping the pearls that dew at your lashes from just how achingly painful your weeping cunt feels— from how awfully you need to have your daddy inside you.
“inside— nghhh, wanna feel you inside, wanna—”
“i know, i know, but can you be a big girl ‘nd wait a little longer? can y’do that for daddy?” he shushes you with a sweet coo and prod of his thumb at the swell of your bottom lip, gathering the drool that sits there, before you obediently take the digit into your mouth. his cock jumps against your clit and wriothesley doesn’t realize that his mouth has been watering at the show you’ve been putting on for him until a drop of spit lands on your shoulder— your smaller fingers lightly wrapping around his wrist to hold his hand in place, sucking and swirling your tongue around his thumb, licking the tip repeatedly and hollowing your cheeks, giving his thumb the same attention and care you would his cock.
“a-awhhh, shit— you’re such a good girl, mhm?”
your hips grind up mindlessly against your lover’s cock at his praise and your mind fogs up in submission, taking the digit deeper, deeper, suckling and licking until you’re drivelling spit down your chin, giggling stupidly and coating his heart in fondant. “mhmmm, hehe—! wanna be your good girl, daddy…”
“yeah? archons, you’re so cute,” he chuckles with you, shaking his head at how you’ve already gone featherbrained from so much as a mere suckle of his finger, pinching your cheek softly within his thumb and forefinger. “gonna put it in now, ‘kay? gonna give you your cock ‘nd you’re gonna take it; like my good little girl.”
with his free hand, he holds the heavy weight of his cock in the palm, tapping it over your clit and thumbing at his slit to coax more pre out from it, using the glossy cream to lubricate you further as he slowly pushes his aching, flushed tip past the tight ring of muscle lining your entrance. there’s a lewd, wet pop that follows when he gets his bulbous head settled in between your sticky walls, and he can’t suppress the noise— something in between a groan and laugh— that escapes him.
“fuuuck me, y’hear that?” squelch, squelch, squelch. “haha, that’s my liquid luck.”
“uh huh, ‘s yours, daddy— ‘s all yours, i’m all youuurs,” your voice comes out as a sweet, broken keen, one that dizzies wriothesley and has blood flooding his cock.
“a-ah, you’re gonna be the death of me, i swear…” his breathing picks up as he shallowly thrusts himself deeper into your cunt— it hugs him like a vice— like it loves him, his cock, like it wants to milk it dry. 
and without warning, he sinks fully inside of you until he’s buried deep in your sopping cunt— it’s a perfect fit. where his oozing tip is pressed up snugly against your cervix, every ridge and vein hitting all the right spots that line your walls. 
you drawl out a pitchy whine of his designation at the sudden split of his cock, hiccuping on your breath as he leans his whole weight on you and pushes your thighs back to meet your chest until the backs of your knees land on his shoulders, hips gyrating to grind his pubic bone down on your puffy bud. it soothes the sharp tremors of pain ripping through your core, washing them over with waves of pleasure, and you can only arch your chest up into his almost instinctually, fingers finding his face to trace sloppy stars over high-set cheekbones. 
“daddy, daddyyyy, i wanna k-kiss…”
your boyfriend smiles adoringly in response, not ignoring the heavy throbs and twitches of his cock within your drooling cunt at how fucking stunning you look underneath him: pouty and glassy-eyed as you weakly tug him closer by the lanyard of his medal, all ditsy and limbs pliable like the sweet little baby doll of his that you are, head near empty with nothing but daddy, daddy, daddy on your brain.
wriothesley finds himself unable to do anything but indulge your desperation, brushing his lips against yours softly— once, twice, until he feels your velvety breath settle in his lungs, and then he’s left craving more. 
“ohhh, baby, so tight.” his hips begin to rock against yours, and with each drag of his fat cock along your gummy walls, a hot knot begins to boil in the pit of your stomach. 
your lips break free from wriothesley’s when his thumb finds your clit, feeling him trace his name over the sensitive nub, gazing up at him through your dumbed out doe eyes, tongue caught in between your teeth in a dreamy little smile. because he looks so handsome like this, so, so gorgeous with raven and sleet slicked back by his fingers and the small strands that bounce and fall and curl around the pinch of his brows— it’s like he’s made of stardust and moonshine and tufts of clouds from the celestial skies.
“you won me this gold medal, what d’you wan’ in return? a ring? fuck— i’d give you the whole universe if you asked. put the fuckin’ oceans in the sky for you.”
an erotic mewl escapes you from how romantic he’s being and you’re almost certain he doesn’t realize the effect his champagne-kissed words have on you— your toes curl and hips grind up mindlessly into his, pussy throbbing on his cock when your clit brushes against the cream-frosted hairs at the base.
the hard clamp of your walls peels a low groan from him, head hanging low and medal gently slapping your cheek with each slow, deep stroke, “s-shit, you like that, huh? tell me what you want, sweetheart—"
“want your cum— want it inside— in here,” you cut him off with needy babbles as you bring his palms to your tummy, laying them gently over the love bites that scatter your flesh likes the stars scatter the night sky— an eternal reminder that you’re his. “please, pretty pleaseee— wanna make you a papa— mhnn!” 
and then he’s plunging into you deeper than ever before, cutting your words short, breaking them off into pitchy little pants as he presses his crotch flush against your messy, web-coated folds and swirls the tip of his dick deliciously over that one spongy spot where you’ve been needing to feel him the most.
“awh, you wanna make me a daddy? but i already am one, aren’t i?” he teases, runs his knuckles under your jaw and tugs on the plump of your lip with his teeth.
flustered by his words, you whine, shake your head petulantly and try to hide your face from him with the back of your hand. squeeze your eyes shut bashfully. melt his heart into icing and frost cupcakes with it. “nuh uhhh, you know ’s not what i mean…”
it’s staggering— how adorable you’re being for him, with your sweet pleas and darling little whines, he can’t help but huff out a growl through gritted teeth before leaning down to gather your lips in a kiss; it’s filled with so much love and so much fervour when he swallows your pretty cries with his tongue in your mouth and, fuck, he’s certain that even the mere thought of stuffing you full of his seed is enough to bring him down to his knees.
“perfect— you’re my perfect little doll, yeah? gonna make you a mother, gonna make you my wife, gonna make you the happiest girl alive.” 
and it’s all so much, too much, the thumb he has pressed flat against your tongue to pacify your sobs, the promises he washes your tears away with, the sound of gold thudding harshly against the canvas of the floor when he thrusts into you at a different angle— one that has the tip of his cock knocking at the sponge of your cervix in a way where your hips rock up into his own. “daddydaddydaddy, please, ‘m gonna cum, you’re gonna make me cuuuum—!”
“my sweet girl’s already fucked silly? got nothin’ but cock on your little brain, uh huh?”
“uh huh, uh huhhhh— wan’ daddy’s cock, wan’ daddy’s cum, wanna— mmph!”
your mindless babbling pulls a harsh guttural noise deep from wriothesley’s stomach, his vision doubling at the shaky lilt to your voice, at the manicured nails that dig into his biceps and claw red wings there— an eternal reminder that he’s yours. “oh, baby, that’s it, there you go— c’mon, be a big girl and cum all over my cock.” 
“n-no! nonono, wanna cum with youuu—” you cut him off with a sharp keen, wailing out when you feel him start to thrust harder, faster, pearls of your slick and his pre spluttering out to fall as dewdrops on your thighs. doing your best to wrap your arms around his neck amidst the jostles of your body, you pull wriothesley in closer, closer, until his lips meet yours and there’s no space for air between the two of you. 
he can’t help but crumble to ashes as you weep into the kiss, as you cling to him— it’s heart-wrenchingly cute how badly you need him. your slurred whimpers of, daddy, daddy please cum— wan’ it in me f’ever, remind him of just how much he loves you, so much, it reminds him that he is the only one for you in this timeline and every other, he is the only one that can ever make you feel this way— and, fuck, it fills him with a rush that he’s certain he’ll never find in anything else. the knot of fire that treads up his spine coils tighter on itself at the sound of your pitchy breaths and pathetic whines. 
it brings wriothesley to the heavens, and soon enough, he’s prattling on and tripping over his words just as you had been, drooling drivelling from his lips like a fucking dog.
“shiiit, all those pretty fuckin’ sounds you make, h-hah, gonna make me cum, baby— you want that? wanna make daddy cum? want his seed so deep inside ya? yeah, ohhh, i know you do, c’mon then, milk this fuckin’ cock, ’s all yours.”
and so, you moan and whimper and cry out for your daddy, goaded by his words and his cock moulding your cunt to the shape of him, toes curling and tapping helplessly over his shoulder, your orgasm flying through you from head to toe. “fuck, fuck fuck, daddy— ‘m cum’ng— cummiiiing, daddyyy—!”
it’s nothing short of endearing, how you clutch at the nape of his neck and whimper in the junction of his neck, little incoherent mumbles falling onto deaf ears. because when you cum, wriothesley cums too, seeing white, a strangled whine ripping from his throat when tiny squirts push past your hole where the creamy base of his cock sticks to your cunt and thick ribbons of his milk paint the walls of your womb.
your heart dances with wriothesley’s when they meet on the tip of his tongue, his nose brushing against yours with so much delicate care and a boyish chuckle pushing past him when your hips swirl in cute little motions to catch your clit on his pubic bone, grinding up and chasing his cock to keep it plugging you full. “wrio.” 
it comes out as a sniffle, and he can’t help but blush at the small pout you send his way. 
“yeah, princess?” he moves back to pull out of you, but your legs slip down from his shoulders in between his arms to wrap around his waist, ensuring his full length is kept inside your stuffed hole.
“if you move it’ll all leak out,” you whine, pitchy and puerile, “don’t want it to— wan’ it to stay in me forever and ever…”
his seed as a sliver of him in your tummy, a sliver of his love kept in your body until the end of time— his head falls forward into your neck where he can only bring himself to huff out an endearing laugh and repeat your words, “forever ‘nd ever, huh…?”
“mhm… forever ‘nd ever ‘nd even after that.”
you tug on the medal’s lanyard to prompt him to meet your gaze, absolutely cockdrunk and bambi-eyed with your bottom lip tugged coyly into your top teeth— wriothesley knows that look well, you cheeky little minx; and you giggle when you clamp down around him once more, coaxing another tiny rope of milk from his slit, evident by a sharp moan that escapes him mid-breath.
“you’re killin’ me, sweetheart.”
he's dizzy— either from all the alcohol or the intensity of his high or a mix of both, but he still manages to bar you to his chest with two steady hands against your back and raise you both so that you’re sitting upright on the floor, and you cry out at the shift in position, at how his cock is nestled so incredibly deep inside that you swear you can feel him piercing your womb.
and it’s a sound that so sweet, so tooth-rottingly sweet, because wriothesley can’t help but mutter out small proclamations of his love as he lays them all over your face, can’t help the excruciating ache in his limbs and muscles and the uncomfortable twist and turn of his organs because, archons, he loves you.
“gold looks good on you, wrio,” you whisper, cheeks burning with warmth and popping like corn from how wide your smile is, from the accidental tickle of his fleeting touches.
you’re floating— high on his love, floating higher, higher, until you’re swimming in the oceans he put in the sky for you, the waterfalls up in the clouds. 
the loss of his touch brings you back down to earth— his fingers are sticky, sweet and salty with drying champagne and a mix of your releases, but he could care less when he removes the medal from his neck and hangs it around yours, carefully laying the gold flat on your sternum, right above your heart.
and maybe he jumps the gun a little when he rubs your ring finger and searches for something that’s not there— his soul fanning across your face in sweet breaths when he starts thinking about white picket fences and a little angel with his hair, your eyes, his nose, your smile— the most beautiful blessing of all.
“well, i think it looks better on you.”
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do u evr hate a character so much you wnt to write the most unabashedly horny smut for them . bcos i do ♡ anw hehe :3 tusm for readin ! ! ‎٩(ˊᗜˋ*)و i hope u liked dis n' it made u just as flustered as i felt when writing ⭐️ pls consider commenting ノ reblogging if u enjoyed aaa ( =v= ) it wld make mi so happie yayayayyy ! !
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cryptidghostgirl · 2 months
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hiii can i request a silly little scene i have in my head? ok so!
alastor x wife! reader- theyve been together since they were alive, legit partners in crime they both encouraged eachother to kill and when they reunited in hell after around 8 years they were independent once again UNTIL They got in trouble with Lilith and she took reader to be like her slave until Alastor finished helping Charie with her dream (until he helped prove that demons can be redeemed) so they didnt see each other for another 7 years (his absence)
And all throughout the first season hes like “I miss my wife, Husk. I miss her a lot” (while drunk-) like that one sonic dub meme and starts shaping his shadow creature into reader and talking to it and everyone is like “m yep he’s officially lost it.”
BUT then Sir Pentious is redeemed and Lilith sees and shes like “damn :/“ and send reader to the new hotel via portal and reader just. falls on the ground in front of the big entrance and everyone hears it and they rush out and Alastor is quiet, wide eyed and reader goes smth like “i know- i shouldnt have accepted it in your name but-“ blah blah she rambles on about it and Alastor just goes “Youre as beautiful as the day I los you.” LIKE THAT HEARYBREAKING SCENE FROM HOW TO TRAIN YOUR DRAGON 2 ;-; and everyone reacts in their own way
I REALLY NEED THIS BUT I LACK THE ABILITIES TO DO IT HEEELP (love u)
A/N oh bestie,, i got you. I was actually planning on something similar where Alastor was getting drunk at a bar and talking about the love of his life (I'm still gonna write that one too but I really like this prompt!!) You guys really come up with the best requests, please keep sending them in.
Fuel and the Fire (Alastor x Wife!Partner-in-Crime!Reader)
Pairing: Alastor x Reader
Warnings: ANGST also bad words (idk why i wrote the warnings like this). Also Angel Dust is in this one and I love him but he is a warning on his own.
Word Count: 2,392
Master Lists:
Master Lists 
Hazbin Hotel Master List
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Alastor and Y/n, partners in crime, the fuel and the fire. On a first glance, it would be assumed she was his fuel, the coal and dry leaves he fed himself by. Once anyone got to know them -- and god, what trouble a person was in if they got to know them -- they quickly realized it was the other way around.
Hand in hand from day one, from childhood. Running from the cops, washing the blood off one another's faces. In the living world and life after death, nothing could tear them apart. He was the soil she planted herself in, he was her rock and Y/n? Well she was Alastor's everything. He'd do anything at all for her, all she had to do was ask.
For a decade, they terrified the living world. They were the reason to double check the lock on the door before bed, they were the ominous shadow at the corner. When cold death wrapped them in his reckless grasp, they turned their terror on Hell.
The pair made a name for themselves quickly, filling up the airwaves and making waves in the underworld. For generations, they reigned supreme. For generations, they knew no fear. Then one day, they simply disappeared.
When Alastor reappeared on the streets seven years later without his shadow, the town was alight with gossip. No one knew where he had been, where she still was, or why he had returned but Alastor quickly rebuilt his operation, setting up shop at Lucifer's daughter's Hazbin Hotel along with several of the souls he owned.
The hotel's other residents and workers were distrustful of the man, to say the least. He was shifty, wore a constant smile, and rumors circled around him like birds of prey. That was until about three months into his stay, at least.
Angel hadn't meant to eavesdrop. He'd been coming down to the bar for a drink and a rant of his own when he'd heard the familiar, crackling voice of the Hotel's host.
"I just... I miss her so much, Husk."
He sounded sad, utterly dejected. Angel crouched down on the staircase, hiding his slim body behind one of the ornate posts supporting the railing.
"You keep saying that but do nothing to go find her. She disappeared the same time as you, you know." came Husk's gruff reply.
"I know she did."
"You keep saying that, acting like you know something. Admit it: you don't know shit, Alastor."
Alastor's radio waves faltered, squeaking slightly. Angel tensed in terror, wondering if he'd been found out. This was clearly a private conversation, and the Radio Demon was testy at the best of times. Right now he seemed positively furious.
"Don't test me, Husk." Alastor said after a moment, breaking the tense silence, "She... we both got roped into something. I am doing my part, she is doing hers."
Angel straightened himself up, deciding it was high time he entered the room. He still wanted that drink, after all. He let his feet fall heavily on the stairs, alerting the others to his presence. Husk turned toward the sound, meeting Angel's eyes as he entered the bar. Alastor, on the other hand, kept his back to the spider demon.
Taking a seat beside Alastor, Husk immediately poured Angel a drink and slid it across the counter towards him.
"So, tough night, Smiles?" Angel asked, turning to Alastor who downed the rest of his drink in a single gulp.
"I don't know what you're talking about, my good fellow." Alastor hummed in response.
There was a threat in his voice, but Angel could tell the demon's heart wasn't in it. Everything was just, odd.
"Yeah... sure..." Angel scoffed, taking a sip of his own drink.
"Radio man was crying to me about his wife five seconds ago." Husk grumbled and Angel's eyes went wide.
"You have a wife?" he asked, turning back to Alastor, "I mean, I get it. I'm in to the whole 'tall dark and creepy' thing too but, you care about someone? I don’t know if I can see it.”
Alastor's eyes narrowed as he turned on Husk. The cat demon rolled his eyes in a brazen display of disrespect. He knew his master well, knew this was the only thing he had any leverage with the man on. With a deep breath, Alastor placed his hands firmly on the bar top and pulled himself to his feet. Not saying another word, he disappeared into his shadows.
That had been the first odd occurrence. Of course Angel had told Charlie and Charlie had told everyone, had even approached Alastor about it. The Radio Demon brushed it all off with skill and for a while, things were quiet.
About a month later, the second strange thing began happening. Alastor had always had a certain sway over shadows, everyone knew that. However, he very rarely used them, brought them out if it wasn't to hide him or take him where he needed to be. Then, suddenly, one began to follow him.
"Uh, Alastor?" Charlie had timidly approached him the first time she saw this happening.
"Yes, Charlie my dear?" Alastor asked, turning to face her as he tossed his microphone in the air, catching it neatly in the center of the stand.
"Well, we were just wondering if everything was... okay?" she asked, her hands behind her back and a pointed gaze on the shadow.
"If everything..." Alastor trailed off, following the path of Charlie's gaze and realizing what was going on, "No, no my dear. Everything is quite all right, quite alright indeed."
"Well, okay... If you say so." Charlie had relented after a few moments, unsure of what else to do.
Eventually, the members of the Hazbin Hotel grew used to the shadows, they too slipped out of their minds. Overcome with impending doom of the extermination just a month away, Alastor's strange behavior was no longer a priority.
That had been until the third odd occurrence came into being. It was Sir Pentious who had noticed it first, drawing it to the group's attention as Alastor walked through the lobby and past the group doing trust exercises there on his way to some meeting or another with the other overlords.
"Sir Pentious?" Charlie had called, trying to bring him back to earth as he watched the place Alastor had occupied, "Sir Pentious?"
"Pentious!" Vaggie yelled and his head snapped to her, "You're not coming up with some new plan to attack Alastor, are you?"
"No!" he quickly exclaimed, waving his hands frantically in the air, "Not at all just..."
"What?" Vaggie asked through gritted teeth, advancing a step forward, her spear in hand.
"It's just... doesn't that shadow Alastor has had following him well.... doesn't it kind of look like a woman?"
Husk broke out into wild laughter while Angel widened his eyes.
"Oh, he's definitely lost it now." Husk exclaimed as he calmed himself, clutching his stomach, "If I knew Y/n was the secret to breaking him down, I woulda done something about it years ago."
"No you wouldn't have, ya big talker." Angel teased, elbowing the cat demon lightly.
"Y/n?" Sir Pentious asked.
"Alastor's wife. That was her name." Husk replied.
"Did you know her?" Charlie asked.
Alastor had left the hotel, the threat that had held their questions at bay for months was gone and the topic was right. Husk nodded.
"So, what's she like?" Angel asked suggestively, "Is she more of a dom? Does deer boy like to get dicked down by his lady?"
"Gross." Charlie shook her head, her hands to her temples, "I do not want to know that."
"She's a good kid." Husk said after a moment, "She's nice..."
He trailed off.
"But?" Vaggie prompted, sensing there was more that he wanted to say.
Husk sighed.
"If you think Alastor is trouble, she's a fucking house fire set for the insurance money."
"So probably not interested in being a guest." Charlie dejectedly stated.
Husk shrugged.
"You never know. It has been seven years since anyone has seen her. Alastor allegedly knows where she's at but, he hasn't gone after her. Just keeps whining to me about it so, I don't know. Maybe she's changed. I doubt it though. Sweet as a pea, sharp as a knife."
Charlie had never felt such relief as when she learned Alastor had not died in the chaos of the battle. The hotel was destroyed, heaven was pissed, Sir Pentious had died but, at least he was alright. They rebuilt the hotel, Alastor's same shadow of a woman trailing after him wherever he went. After about a week, thanks to all the angelic and demonic powers involved in the construction, the new Hotel was finished.
It was just as they put the finishing touches on the place, hung the portrait of Sir Pentious they'd commissioned above the fire place, that a portal opened in the lobby. Everyone tensed, banding together behind Charlie and Alastor. Angels were coming, they were sure of it.
A crash echoed from the other side, a sharp yell and then something tumbled through the portal. With a flash, the portal disappeared behind the shape of a person huddled on the floor. She coughed violently.
Alastor's eyes went wide. Everyone else was too distracted to notice, but if they'd have been paying attention, they would have seen his shadow disappear.
The girl was filthy, her clothes torn and her hair tangled. She let out another, sharp cough before slowly lifting her head. Alastor took a trembling step forward.
"Y/n?" he asked, his voice soft in disbeleif.
A smile, wide and sharp, split the woman's bruised face in two.
"Hey hun, I'm home."
In a flash, he was at her side, helping her to her feet, checking her for wounds.
"Jesus, Y/n." he sighed, "You're a mess."
"I know."
"Y/n-"
"I know. I shouldn't have done it, you don't need to lecture me. I didn't have a choice. It was you or me, Al. I couldn't... I can't... I had to. You've gotta understand."
"Sweetheart-"
Y/n cut him off again, her speech a single, constant, stressed-out stream.
"It was stupid, I know. I know. I really do but, she gave me the option and I couldn't say no cause then if I said no you'd really be the one in trouble a-"
Alastor raised a hand gently to her cheek and Y/n's words caught in her throat. She looked up at him, meeting his eyes at last.
"You're as beautiful as the day I lost you."
His voice was soft, so quiet the others could barely hear him. Y/n's cheeks flushed a bright pink. Her hands found the lapels of his jacket, holding them lightly.
"I.." she stuttered, her mind racing.
With a sigh and a slight shake of her head, she gave up in the search for words and buried herself in his chest. Alastor wrapped his arms around Y/n, pressing her tightly into his frame.
"God, I missed you." she said, her voice muffled by the fabric.
Alastor pressed a gentle kiss to the top of her head.
"I love you." she continued, "I'm so sorry."
Alastor pulled her off of him, leaning down the slightest bit so they were eye to eye. Y/n, wiped a stray tear away, letting out a slight, sad laugh. Alastor's eyes traversed her face, caressing every crevasse.
"I'm so glad your alright but, I don't understand." he said at last, "How are you back? The deal..."
Y/n nodded and Alastor's eyes went wider still. Leaning on Alastor's shoulder for support, she turned her eyes onto the rest of the group.
"You must be Charlie." she hummed softly, meeting the young demon's gaze.
Taking a deep breath, Charlie stepped forward and nodded.
"Yes, I am. I run the Hazbin Hotel, which is where you are, to help rehabilitate sinners."
"I know." Y/n nodded, her voice quavering slightly, "I've heard so much about you. You... my dear, it worked."
"I- what?" every other question died in Charlie's throat, shock shot through her body like a bullet.
"It worked." Y/n confirmed, "You did it. I had a deal, a deal which Alastor went to your side to get me out of. If you succeeded in redeeming a soul with his aid, I would be free. And here I am."
"Here you are." Alastor repeated, spinning Y/n to face him once again.
She wobbled unsteadily on her feet. Catching sight of this along with the numerous wounds all over her body, Alastor scooped Y/n up into his arms like he did when they had first been married, when they had crossed the first threshold together. Y/n looped her arms around his neck, exhaustion seeping in with the relief as she let her head fall on his chest.
"Vaggie..." Charlie began as she turned to her girlfriend, "you don't think..."
"Pentious?" Vaggie asked and Charlie nodded.
"It's gotta be." Angel confirmed.
"You did good, kid." Husk smiled, patting Charlie on the back.
Y/n raised her head at the sound of a familiar voice, her eyes opening.
"Husker?" she asked with a smile.
The cat demon stepped forward, bowing slightly.
"Husker! I-"
"Enough of that, my love." Alastor cut her off, tapping her nose gently, "You need a shower and some rest. You can meet everyone in the morning."
Y/n crossed her arms, narrowing her eyes as she looked up at her husband.
"Promise?"
"Yes, I promise." he sighed.
"Does that mean you're staying?" Charlie asked tentatively and the couple turned to her.
"Whatever the little lady desires." Alastor stated, looking back down at his wife in a lovestruck daze.
"Yes, Charlie. We're staying." Y/n laughed, "Things need to start changing around here and I don't see anyone else doing a god damn thing to make that happen except for you."
"I.." Charlie was speechless, the kindness this fear inspiring woman was directing towards her, having never met her before. What Husk had said made sense, she smiled, "Thank you. I don't know what you did, but that you both so much."
"Anything for my favorite girl." Alastor kissed Y/n softly.
"Oh, get a room." Angel scoffed, rolling his eyes.
2K notes · View notes
nymphoheretic · 11 months
Text
˜”*°•.˜”*°• Plaything •°*”˜.•°*”˜
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Synopsis: You've been caught in his trap. And now you're his little plaything. The Upper Moon 4, Hantengu, more so you belong to the 4 clones.
Warnings : smut, gangbang with Hantengu clones, oral(male and female receiving), anal, Double Penetration , degradation, biting, marking, Electroplay, Spit as lube Rough sex , cervix fucking, Monsterfucking , wing play, praise, Blood Kink, creampie, finger sucking, squirting (let me know if I missed anything!)
Word count : 4.6k
Pairing : Hantengu (all four clones) x fem!slayer!reader
A/N: I have no words for this. It's basically straight porn and I know tumblr is gonna slap a label on it. So, check it out on my AO3(same name). I'll link it in my bio/pinned post.
Special thanks to @bleuboyfriend for beta reading it for me! You're amazing Luke!!
Tags: @bakugosbratx (cause I'd get yelled at if I didn't) @herohibiscus (karaku brainrot partner in crime) @linpunny (monsterfucker bestie) @fushisslut (have your lawyer call mine) @sirenspider @unknownspecies @sailewhoremoon @potofstewie @medusashima @sweetblueworm @gh0stfac3-w1f3y @zoroarkstar @potatoboiasta @rav3enmuse @gingerspicelattemix @redsharksimp @shadowvessel172 @hiitogata @iamthepaninpanic @yandere-wishes @tommyinnit-kinnie @maddyybtw @rani-02 @hulahoopingpro @justsomereaderwholikesanime @dedukiddu @shockinglysubmissive @cherryblossomsenpai @cherry1hearts @violxtbxbyy @jeschalynn @jazzthatonewriterchick @comatosebunny09 @ilovetwodmen @cockadodalcuck @nightimewalk-chan @enchantedforest-network
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You're not sure how it even happened. You were summoned to slay a demon that had been spotted in a village; only to find a cowardly little imp like Demon that was scared of its own shadow. Cutting its head off wasn't too difficult, but the result was devastating for you. The demon split into four clones of itself. Each one with a different demon blood art. 
They cornered you and the green one, Karaku found you to be so very interesting. His clawed hand reached out and caressed your cheek before tipping your chin back. His tongue – marked with the Kanji "pleasure" – slipped past his lips and touched your lips, tasting them. A deep purr like growl rumbled in his chest as he speaks to his counterparts.
"It's been so long since we've been separated and had a little plaything. We deserve to have some fun, right, Sekido?"
His green Kanji branded eyes flickering down to your torn top – the swell of your breasts inviting him as his mouth watered when he could hear your heart pounding beneath your ribcage. Your eyes dart from him to his three other counterparts. His fingers tilt your gaze back to his as he tilts his head down towards yours. “Ne, Sekido, can we have some fun with this pretty little slayer? Please?”
Sekido grits his fangs, his red Kanji branded eyes narrowing as he taps his staff on the ground, bolts of lightning sparking from underneath. His gaze cuts to your eyes and he can smell the fear that emits from you – saturating the air around them in its scent. He growls out, voice guttural and deep. “Only if Aizetsu and Urogi agree.”
Karaku grabs you in his claws and sits you down in his lap, easily pinning you against his chest  as he spreads your legs. One hand cupped your breasts, pinching your nipples as the other dug its palm into your core, eliciting a moan from you. The sound was like heaven to his ears. Karaku’s tongue touches the shell of your ear before his fangs nip at it playfully. “Aizestu, Urogi, c’mon say yes. I wanna play with our new toy.”
“Get your hands off of m–” Your words die off in a moan when he rubbed two sharp clawed fingers over the damp spot forming over your panties.
“Hmmm, little plaything. You were saying?” He ground his fingers harder against the clothed little pearl of nerves, making you squeal out. “Just look at my counterparts. Hard just from watching us. You all should join. If not, I’m still going to have fun.”
Urogi’s control finally snapped as a feral grin spreads over his lips when your musky scent permeates his senses. His own tongue – marked with the Kanji “Joy" – flicks out of his mouth as he drops to his knees in front of you. “Fuck, she’s sexy. And we get to have fun with her. Don’t mind if I do.” When Karaku ripped your panties off and tossed them to the side, Urogi wasted no time diving his face between your thighs, his tongue curling through your sticky folds.
You arched your back, pressing your ass back against the other demon’s crotch, involuntarily grinding against his hard cock as the one with golden eyes feasts upon your center. It was ironic that the one with “pleasure” on his tongue was not the one between your thighs. You whimpered when Urogi’s tongue curled through your cunt, slurping messily as he sucked on your clit.
Aizetsu whimpered softly as his cock twitched against his thigh, rising to attention. He watched as his two more confident counterparts have their fun with the pretty slayer. “Karaku.” He said finally, his voice soft almost timid. “I think you should be the one eating her while Urogi fucks her throat.” His face flushed as he palmed himself through his pants. “And Sekido should use his blood demon art to shock her into submission as she takes his cock first.” 
Karaku grinned. “That’s a great idea, Aizetsu!” He laid down on the ground, relaxing against the cool floor as his hair fanned out underneath him. “But I think I’d rather her ride my face while Urogi fucks hers.” Easily holding down your hips, he grabbed you and pulled you away from Urogi’s tongue, a string of slick mixed saliva connecting you to the avian-like demon.
Urogi pouted at having his fun ruined, but grinned at Aizetsu’s words. The little shy bastard has some good ideas in that sorrowful mind. He cackled as he fumbled with the tie that held his pants together as Karaku settled you over his awaiting mouth. His talons caressed your face, thumb wiping at the tear that threatened to fall. “You’re going to be a good little cocksleeve for us, right?”
Sekido growled at the softer, more timid counterpart as he tapped his staff against the ground once more. “What utter foolishness. Like I want to stick my cock in that little whore’s body.” But his hard cock betrayed his angry words as he listened to your saccharine moans while his counterparts had their way with you. His narrowed red eyes watched as your throat bulged as Urogi slid his cock in deep, the yellow-eyed demon giggling as you tapped his thigh.
Growling once more, he dropped to his knees, pulling his dick out of his pants and fisted it roughly. His fangs grit as his claws of his other hand found your hair and yanked your head back to force you to meet his eyes. “You should feel lucky that I’m willing to fuck a needy bitch like you.” His palm smacked against the meat of your ass, making your hips buck against Karaku’s eager tongue and forcing more of Urogi’s cock down your throat.
You let out a whimper around the thick girth on your tongue as you feel Karaku dig his claws in your hips, pulling you even further down onto his mouth. He slurped so noisily at your pussy as his tongue dug orgasm after orgasm out of you. You lost count. Your moans were muffled by Urogi as he thrust into your mouth without abandon. Another pathetic sounding moan vibrated in your chest when you feel Sekido’s claws dig into the fat of your ass and spread your cheeks.
Shame filled your body as your eyes darted around, searching for someone to help you, but they only found Aizetsu, who was calmly stroking his cock, pre leaking – oozing from the tip as his face flushed with a blush. 
Aizetsu covered his face with his hand as he watched his counterparts. His voice was soft as he directed them on what to do. “Urogi, wrap your hand around her throat, choke her until she’s able to take all of your cock down her slutty little mouth. She doesn't get th breath if she doesn't. Kakaru suck on her clit more while using your tongue to fuck her hole. Sekido...” He pauses, his eyes darkening with desire as he works his hand over his cock faster. “Prep her ass for your cock.”
Your eyes widened when Aizetsu told the red-eyed demon what to do. You try to shake your head, but Urogi had wrapped his talon around your neck, his hips snapping faster as he fucks more of his cock down your throat.
“Now, pretty little plaything. It's not nice to be distracted. Eyes on me.” He grins as he tightens his hand around your neck, relishing in the choke-like moans that vibrated around his length. When you shift those big teary eyes back to his, his tongue fell from his mouth as he curled it in the air. “That’s the fucking look! Cry more, slayer!”
You could feel Sekido’s sharp claws dig into your flesh as he lowered his face between your thighs, his tongue slipping out to trace the ring of your puckered little hole. You couldn’t help the whimper that escaped. Sekido’s tongue was hot – hotter than Karaku’s. It felt like currents of electricity were shooking up and down your spine. 
Karaku flicks your clit, scraping it with his fangs as his fingers slip over your clenching hole. He lifts you off his face for a moment to stare up at your face. “Aww, is the pretty little slayer crying?” He cooed condescendingly, “Such a good girl you are.” His praise sounded fake as he pushed his fingers past the first ring of muscles of your dripping pussy. “Oh? Maybe I should call you a slut? Or our little cocksleeve whose only purpose is to be fucked by four demon cocks?”
Moaning around Urogi’s cock at Karaku’s filthy words, words that sounded like they were dipped in honey to your hazy mind. His fingers thrust up into you twisting and turning until they found that spot that made your body twitch and wreath above him. “That's the spot. Come on, let go for me. Cum on my tongue. I take pleasure in it.” Karaku mocked as he licks your cunt with the flat of his tattooed tongue.
“Shit, Karaku. Her throat tightened up when you did that.” Urogi’s cock twitches on your tongue as his talons tangle in your hair, pulling you even further down on his girth. “Fuck, gonna cum down this nasty throat. That what you want? My cum painting that greedy mouth of yours?” His smile was beyond feral as the talon around your neck tightens to the point where you couldn’t breathe.
Sekido growled as you ignored him in favor of his counterparts. His tongue circled the flesh of your asshole before pushing past that tight ring and wiggling inside. “Don’t fucking forget about me, nasty bitch.” He used his blood demon art to send streaks of lightning through your body, making you convulse and shake – the feeling making your body release your juices on Karaku’s tongue.
“Did I fucking say you could cum, dirty slut?” Sekido removed his tongue, fangs biting deeply into the roundness of your cheeks, nails digging into your flesh. He relishes in the fact that you had to pull away from Urogi to scream out from the painful pleasure of his abuse of your ass. Your blood trickled down his throat and he moaned a little at the taste of it. It was sweet – a potent elixir that coats his tongue. “Fucking delicious.” 
Aizetsu whimpered as he stroked his cock, his hand still covering his blushing face. His balls felt heavy as his length twitched against his palm, precum dribbling down the leaky tip. He was trying his best to remain calm, telling them how to please you. Aizetsu was shy, but even he had a limit on how much he could take – and he was approaching it. “Karaku, fuck her pussy hard, but don’t cum inside. Sekido, stop teasing her and give her your cock too. Spread her ass and spit in it. Urogi, have her suck your balls.”
Urogi eagerly did as Aizetsu told him, fisting his cock as he tilted your chin to stare deeply into your teary eyes. “Fuck, I love that you're being such a fucking crybaby and we haven’t even fucked you yet.” His thumb slipped into your mouth, talon scraping over your tongue. “You heard Aizetsu. Open up.” Urogi grinned as he placed his balls on your tongue and tossed his head back and lets out a mewl when your lips closed over them to suckle. “Such a good fucking whore you are.”
Karaku licked his lips clean of your sweet essence as he slid you down his chest, a trail of your slick coating his skin until his throbbing cock nudged at your hole. He shuddered at the feeling of your warm pussy gliding over his length. “Gonna fuck you so good. You gonna be a good little toy and take my cock all the way, yeah?” He lined the sticky tip up with your dripping hole and pushed inside with a low moan.
Sekido spread your ass cheeks, his eyes narrowing at the sight of your twitching little hole. Gathering a fat glob of saliva on his tongue, he lets it slide down past his lips to drip down into the crack. He used his thumb to smear it around and slowly pushed it inside to lubricate it more. Sekido lined his cock up with your tight hole and slowly pushes past the ring of muscle. “Tight ass bitch. Let me inside.” He growled as he gripped your hips tightly, claws threatening to rip your skin again.
You stiffened at the pain of being stretched so full by two cocks, the burn almost unbearable. Your moans were muffled by Urogi’s balls still suckled between your lips as he stroked his cock above your face. You whimpered as you felt them taking alternating thrusts inside you, touching the deepest part of you. Tears burned at the corners of your eyes as you could feel your body reacting to them, clenching down on them.
Karaku grinned as he felt your walls flutter and hug his dick tightly, sucking him in deeper. His finger squeezed in between your bodies to toy with the sensitive pearl of flesh. He watched as your back arched against him, shoving more of your ass back onto Sekido’s cock Laughing when he felt your nails dig into his chest like that would make him stop. “You’re so cute, slayer, but Aizetsu said to fuck you hard...” Karaku planted his feet on the ground more firmly, his claws digging into your thighs as he grabbed you tightly. “So, that’s what I’m gonna do.”
Sekido grunted as he snapped his hips roughly, bullying his fat cock deeper into your tight ass. A growl left him as your warm heat wrapped around him, hugging him so tightly. “F-fuck...” He whined softly, his face scrunching up from the pleasure. “Squeezing my dick like this. You must want me to fucking cum in your ass. You’re such a filthy little cumslut.” He grabs your hips so tightly, nails digging into your flesh and causing fresh blood to drip down onto Karaku’s waist.
Urogi’s tongue slipped out of his mouth and curled into the air as he laughed loudly, his cock throbbing at the sight of your tears. “Oh fuck, I’m gonna cum if you keep looking up at me with that face. Those fucking tears make me so hard. You want that? For me to cum on your face like the needy whore you are?” His voice shudders as his hand speeds up. “Or you’d rather I cum down the fucking throat, plugging up your nose so that you have no choice but to swallow?”
Before you could even answer, Aizetsu made the decision for you. “Make her swallow it, Urogi.”
“You heard him! Open up!” The yellow-eyed clone giggled as he pushed his cock back between your lips, dragging the throbbing hot flesh across your tongue. The tip hit the back of your throat and Urogi howls with pleasure as he grabbed the sides of your head to hold you steady as he fucked into your mouth.
Aizetsu’s face was flushed even as his blue eyes darkened – his control was wearing thin as his cock throbbed with the need for release. His hand wasn’t enough. He wanted to be inside your snug little pussy. He wanted to be the one to fill you so full of cum that it caused a bulge in her belly. Aizetsu bit his lip, fangs piercing the plump flesh and blood dribbled down his chin – which he quickly licked away. Soon. He’d let his counterparts finish first. 
Karaku’s hips meet yours as his cock bullied your insides, his tongue out to show the kanji etched on it as his eyes zero in on the way Urogi’s dick bulged in your pretty throat. “Fuck you’re taking all three of us so well.” His fingers tighten around your thighs – they were sure to leave bruises behind, marking you as his. Karaku grit his fangs as his balls slap against your cunt, cock tingling with the tale-tell signs of his release.
He had half an inkling to ignore Aiztesu’s command and cream this drippy little pussy of yours with his cum, paint your deepest parts in his color. But he was kinder than that. Aizetsu has been telling them just how to pleasure you, all while edging himself. “Go ahead.” He leaned up and nipped at your collarbone, sucking at the skin to leave more of his marks behind. “Cum on my cock. Soak it. Y’know you want to.”
Sekido threw his head back, hair fanning out as sweat dripped down the side of his face. Your tight little ass was giving him so much pleasure. His balls tightened as his dick throbbed and swelled inside. “Fucking bitch. Gonna cum in this filthy ass of yours. You’re just a fucking cumdump for me, got it?”
“Fuck, I’m about to cum.” Urogi grins as his talons pinched into the skin of your cheeks as he thrust in and out of your drooling mouth. “Take it! And don’t waste a drop!” With a few more deep thrusts, his hot milky seed filled your throat at such rapid speed that you had no choice but to swallow or choke.
Karaku moans loudly as his hands leave your thighs to squeeze your breasts as he felt you tighten and clench down on his cock as he found that sweet spot, pressing on his repeatedly until he felt you shaking and trembling. “Give it to me, pretty little plaything. Soak me in your juices. Let me see you make a mess like the good little slut we’re training you to be.”
You tossed your head back as you let out a loud cry. “Oh fuck!” You screamed as you came hard on Karaku’s dick, rings of cream frothing around the base as he continues to fuck you through your high. “I...I can’t. Please stop.”
Sekido grunted as he slid his cock out and pushed it in deep – stretching the tight muscles into his shape. “Shit.” He grit his fangs tightly as his claws cut into your skin once more. “Tch.” The red-eyed clone scoffs at the feeling of your blood coating his fingers. Taking his hand, he grabbed your cheek and forced your lips to part. “Suck your filthy blood off my fingers, bitch.”
The metallic taste that covered his fingertips coats your tongue as Sekido fucks into your tight hole with fast deep thrusts as Karaku’s mouth sucked on your nipples, his fang scrapping over the swell of them as his own thrust began to grow more and more sporadic.
“Fuck. Fuck. Fuck.” Karaku moaned as he slammed into you once, twice, three more times before he pulled out and fists his slick covered cock. “Shit...” Cum paints your lower stomach and thighs as he finished and breathes heavily as your slick pussy lips grind over his half mast dick because of Sekido’s brutal thrusting.
Sekido grabbed one of your arms and pinned it to the small of your back, forcing you into a deeper arch for him as he fucked your ass with fast, hard snaps of his hips. His cock tingled and swelled inside you as he felt his end nearing. “Slutty ass bitch. You gonna cum from me fucking and filling your ass with my seed? I bet you are.” His teeth grit from the feeling of your tongue swirling around his fingers as you clean the blood off of them. “Fucking...I’m cumming. Cumming...!” He snarled as he came hard, spraying your insides with his hot cum.
You moaned like a cat in heat from the feeling of Sekido filling your tight, puckered hole – it creamed around his cock because it was so much. You collapsed on top of Karaku, chest heaving. “No...” you swallowed. “No, more.”
Karaku runs his claws soothingly over your back, his grin never leaving his face as he heard Aizetsu slowly making his way over to where you were. “But you only took three of us. There are four of us.” He reminded you as the shy blue-eyed clone pulled you up and into his arms.
Aizetsu cupped your cheek as he lifted you up against him and wrapped your legs around his waist. His lips found yours as his tongue seeks out yours. He swallowed your muffled cries and ignored your fists as they pound against his chest. He lined his weeping cock up with your hole, lifting your hips easily.
“Wait a second, Aizetsu. I ain't get a turn to fuck her.” Urogi said as he flew over to the two of you. “Lemme have her ass.”
Hands spread your ass cheeks, cum still dripping out of the tight hole of your ass. “This ass?” Aizetsu whispered as he slid inside your pussy with one fluid movement, your arms automatically wrapped around his neck as you moaned so beautifully for him. “G-go a-fuck-ahead.”
You let out a shocked gasp when the yellow-eyed avian-like demon let out a cackle as his talons wrapped around your shoulders as he lined his cock up with your still twitching hole as Aizetsu slowly thrust up into you. “No, please. I can’t take it anymore.”
Aizetsu turns your face back to his, his tongue – the Kanji “sorrow” etched into the pink muscle – sliding out to lick at the tears that gathered in your eyes. “You can, pretty slayer. Aren’t we making you feel so good? Tell me I’m making you feel good, please?”
Urogi ignored your pleas and pushed the fat tip of his cock past the tight ring of muscles, his knees buckling a bit. “Fuck, you’re so god damn tight. Such a horny thing.” He licked a line up your back, tasting the sweat that covered it. “You love having two cocks in your tight ass and cunt, right?”
Karaku felt left out and walked over to where his counterparts were and grabbed your hand. “C’mon pretty slayer, touch me too.” Wrapping your fingers around his cock, he used the movements from the other two thrusting up onto you to fuck your fist. 
You wrapped your other arm around Urogi’s neck, nails digging into his back as he and Aizetsu pound into you. You could tell the difference between the two by the pace. Aizetsu was slow, methodical and careful – building up an orgasm out of you. While Urogi fucked into you at an animalistic pace, his balls smacking against the curve of your ass. Your mouth dropped open into a series of drawn out curses, nails digging into Urogi’s back as the other squeezed Karaku’s cock.
“Oi, human!” Sekido growled out, not liking that he was the one left out now. “You got one more hole, let me–” He started to take a step towards them, his cock bobbing as he moved when all three of his counterparts glared at him.
“We wanna hear her.” They growled. The sounds of your moans were like the sweetest of sounds to their ears and they wanted to hear it more and more.
Aizetsu angled his hips so that his thrusts were deep, the thick tip fucking against your cervix with each precise thrust. His mouth drops open in a whimper as his eyes teared up from the feeling of your pussy quivering around him. “Please. Need for you to tell me that I’m making you feel good, slayer. I need to hear it.”
Each word of his last sentence was punctuated by a deep thrust and your head fell back against Urogi’s shoulder. “Fuck! You’re making me feel so fucking good.” You gave into the hypnotic spell Aizetsu was lulling you into with his gentle and tender touches.
Urogi laughed as he picked up speed, his balls starting to tighten with the threat of his release. “You’re damn right we are.” His feathers ruffled when your nails dig into the skin between them. “H-hey...” He mewled. “Not the wings.” The avian-like demon lets out a screen when your hand grabs the downy feathers near the base of his wings. A shudder goes down his spine as his dick swelled inside you as it began to paint your walls with his thick cum. “Fucking dammit...” 
Karaku watched as Urogi fell to his knees, his cock popping out of you as he did so. Aizetsu took that time to turn you around, hands wrapping under your thighs so that he could easily lift you up and down on his cock. “Don’t mind if I do.” He shoved the yellow-eyed clone out of the way as his lips attached to your clit.
The scream you let out was like music to them as Sekido begrudgingly walked over to use your hand to stroke his cock to completion. Your other hand wrapped around Aizetsu’s neck as you moaned those sweet sounding cries in his ear, encouraging him that he was still making you feel good. His lips nuzzled your ear as his voice rumbled, “Cum for me. Let me feel you soak my cock. That way I really know I’m making you feel good.”
“Yeah, our pretty plaything. Cum for Aizetsu and let me taste it. You can squirt, right?” His tongue swirled on your clit, teasing it with the tip as the blue-eyed clone thrust into you so deeply that your body jerked, hand tightening around Sekido’s cock.
“Fucking shit, bitch.” Sekido cursed, the tip drooling with pre as he felt his balls draw up, the telltale sign that he was about to cum. He fucked your fist faster, the slick sounds of it echoing in his ear. Sekido lets out another grunt before he spilt his seed, coating the top of your fist with it. “Making me cum like that...you’re such a whore...” he panted.
Aizetsu bounced you on his cock, determined to make you cum – to make you squirt so hard you passed out from the pleasure. His fangs grazed over the shell of your ear before he stuck his tongue in your ear as he felt you tighten up on his length. “Just let go and be our plaything.” He whispered.
Your back arched like a cat as you felt your thighs tremble, clit throbbing on Karaku's greedy tongue. Your chest heaved as your body convulsed, cumming hard, squirting – the hot clear liquid drenching Karaku’s face and dripping down Aizetsu’s thighs.
“Good fucking girl.” The green-eyed clone praised after he swallowed what he was able to catch on his tongue.
Aizetsu let out a whine as he trailed his tongue down the length of your neck before biting down gently on your pulse point. His thrust sped up until he was pounding into your soaked pussy. “Oh fuck. Oh shit...” He whimpered, tongue lapping at your pulse as he felt his cock twitching. He wasn’t to last much longer. “Gonna cum. Gonna cream this pussy. Say that’s what you want. Please tell me you want my cum.”
In your hazy fucked out mind, anything he said sounded heavenly. You mewled out weakly, “Want your cum. Give it to me.”
No sooner than those words left your throat, Aizetsu gave you a few more deep, cervix kissing thrusts before his hot cum spilled over inside your needy cunt. “Take it. Take it all.” He whined out as he fucked it deeper into you. “You’re our plaything now.”
Even you had to agree, You’ve become the plaything of the Upper Moon 4, Hantengu – no, the four clones, Sekido, Urogi, Karaku, and Aizetsu.
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©️2022-23 nymphoheretic - I do not give permission to copy, edit, alter, or distribute my work. Do not adverse on tiktok. Do not repost on any other platform.
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7K notes · View notes
hoseoksluna · 14 days
Text
LIQUID STARS | jjk
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pairing: fuck buddy!jungkook x f. reader (feat. bam)
genre: angst, smut
word count: 11.8k
summary: to seal the deal, you give jungkook what he wants—your kiss, your cunt and your virginity.
playlist: liquid stars / pinterest board: wine
warnings: size kink, heavy dd/lg themes, provocation, dry humping, dirty talk, mentions of porn, oral sex (f. + m. receiving), multiple orgasms & countdown, dom/sub dynamics, reader has daddy issues (like the writer), first time, jealousy, inner child healing, plushie used during intercourse, jungkook fucks her numb & dumb, praise kink, cum eating, pet names and the establishment of a title, bondage, raw sex, tummy bulge, desperation, pain felt during intercourse, squirting
note: as difficult as it was to write this, i'm immensely thankful. this changed my life; it healed me and i'll dream about it for a long, long time. i was as exhausted as oc once i finished this, because i truly did give my all. everyone, this is part four to my series 'wine' and therefore the very end. this is the very beginning of jungkook's and oc's relationship. can be read as a standalone as there aren't any quirks from the other parts (except for bunny), though if you wish to read them now, now is the perfect time. now you can see the beautiful gradual development of their relationship. please, enjoy as you read and let me know your favorite parts bc i need to talk about this. heed the warnings as there are dd/lg themes that can be uncomfortable for some. thank you! and thank you for all the love on this series. i'll never forget it. i love you, guys. ʚɞ
side note: give some round of applause for 3D daddy provider jungkook everyone!! he deserves it!!!
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Silky lilac bows adorn the tops of your pigtails that cascade down in loose braids, sprawled on the cotton of his pillow and on the soft belly of a bunny plushie. There are still traces of sunlight left on the bedding, which dissolve, little by little, into nothingness as the large star goes down, saying goodbye. It’s lightweight, the atmosphere—homely almost. And much to your surprise, you feel relatively at ease, despite the fact a man lies on top of you—a man you have a certain liking for. 
It was natural for you to end up here and you, yourself, wished for it, even. Deemed it was only right after the man took you around for a walk while his silly Doberman guarded each and every step both of you had taken in sync, especially so when he persisted in buying you a small plastic ring of the same bunny you’re lying against. He didn’t even forget about his own canine friend waiting outside patiently like the obedient dog he is, and fed him the snackies he got for him as soon as he returned from the shop. You swore Bam was as giddy as you when he received his gift. 
Now the ring glints in the last rays of the sun. His, too. 
While yours is as white as the cloudy morning sky, Jungkook’s is as black as the drowsily dozing night sky. You think it’s the perfect contrast between the pair of you. Not that you should be noting these things, considering you’re just friends. But his skin is satiny soft, painted in impressionist tattoos, while his muscles, that his well-fitted T-shirt graciously allows you to see, are strong. You’re sure he could just lift you and throw you around without much of a strain. And it certainly doesn’t help that he’s such a striking image of pure beauty. How could you not notice these intertwinings when they’re this lovely?
You like him—without a shadow of doubt. Can feel the call of an emotional attachment forming the more he studies your skin with the tip of his index finger, embellished with the Miffy ring, and it’s owed to the fact you’ve never been touched this way before. No one has ever come this close, no one has ever been interested in the moles scattered upon your shoulders, in the veins that make the pathway to the column of your neck. No one has ever gazed twice at them—but Jungkook?
He hasn’t stopped looking at them ever since he laid you down in the middle of his bed. 
How could you stop such a call? Such a lull, such a magnetic pull. You know you should, but for the meantime, you simply don’t want to. Can’t lose this moment, can’t lose this once in a lifetime opportunity—
Jungkook presses his lips against the prominent mole in the center of your left shoulder. Those pretty, puffy lips, closing against your skin, the smallest dart of tongue swiping past. It shocks you for a moment before the feeling dissolves beneath, adjusting within the freshness of your system. How could you refuse such dynamic poetry, expressed against your own forlorn body? When it’s so blatant that it’s natural, that your body willingly accepts it without a fight. 
You couldn’t. 
Stretching your fingers between the thick strands of his hair, you close your eyes to savor the feeling of being wanted. The movement of his mouth, going even as far as to the first vein rooted in your arm—following it with those half-closed pillows. Up, up until he finds the line of your collarbone. Jungkook pauses there, simply breathes against you before he interperses little pecks there, nibbles and gentle swipes of tongue. The lining of your top won’t let him go further down, so he changes direction—relies on the pathway of your veins to guide him to your neck. And there… at the first contact, you grip the roots of his hair. 
His kisses and nibbles are much harder here. And what’s worse, he takes the sensitive skin into his mouth and sucks. You fail at containing the whimpers that break out of your mouth and Jungkook reacts to them. Hums ever so deeply, rocks his hips against the mattress. You wish you were a bit bigger so you could feel the collision, but you’re just so small compared to his large form. You imagine he’s writing down the poems collecting inside of him with each cursive roll of his tongue. Wonder if there’s enough paper on your skin for all his words. 
“You sweet little thing,” Jungkook coos onto the crook of your neck, dragging his lips up and down before he stops at your jaw. You feel the warmth of his breath and his body heat seeps into yours, creating unity, blackening the ink. It feels strange, it feels so new. Brisk and springlike, like fresh air in a stuffed room. You want to stay here for a long time, tasting the wholeness of spring captured in him. You want his words to flush you red with the tinge of the entire sunlight that opens the buds of flowers during all seasons in a loop. “Can I kiss you?”
You haven’t gone beyond the innocent touching of hands with him. You brim with a tight feeling of thankfulness that he asked you such a graceful question, although something else steals your attention entirely. 
“Little?” you say, the smile on your lips pulled so taut that it quivers ever so slightly. It makes you crazy that he calls you that, but you play the game. Revel in it. “What do you mean little? I’m bigger than you.”
Jungkook cocks his brow at you, mouth falling into a lopsided grin. He sits back and you feel a whiff of coldness pass by the perimeter of your body, as if someone opened the window and let the winter air in, when it’s just his brief distance that caused it. The forming attachment in you tenses and before you can think about your actions, your hand finds his knee, his thigh and traces slow patterns there. Jungkook suddenly squeezes your waist, surprising you, and the ecstatic fluttering of butterfly wings break havoc all over your body. The solidness of his hands, their weight, their firmness, giving life to your body, meaning. You note how his fingers touch when he has his hands enveloped around you like that. And the inkling that your body matters in his hands like that slips into your mind, spreading through its axis. 
You bite your lower lip. A small ache begins to grow in your intimate parts. It’s so nice to be wanted, to be considered good enough to be touched, to be kissed. 
“You? Bigger than me?” Jungkook squeezes your waist again. Sucks in a breath through his teeth. Smiles softly; in a way that you find unbearably endearing. “No, you’re just little. Just a tiny, little bug. So tiny in my hands.” 
For the breath he inhaled, you exhale it. 
He leaves his hands there when he bends over you, hovering his lips over yours. His weight, his heat. You sigh against him in relief, in a newly blossoming excitement that he’s back again. You spread your legs wider, feet grazing his calves—
“Let me kiss you, please.” 
You’d give in, but the game is just so pleasurable. 
Your laugh is but a breath. “You wanna kiss me?” 
You exhaled, he inhaled. 
“Don’t ask stupid questions.”
“Since when do friends kiss?” You cock your eyebrow at him just like he did, prodding your tongue on the inside of your cheek. 
He hovers a little bit higher above you, hanging his head in defeat, sighing. Places his hands in fists on either side of you, caging you in. 
“Premium friends do,” he mutters, lifting his head, face all serious. You dig your toe into the toned muscle of his thigh, twirling sweet little circles, gliding up and down. Watch as his eyes lid and he tries to control it. “Don’t do that or I’ll fuck you.” 
Your body panics, but you will it to relax. 
“Does that come with the premium subscription?” 
Jungkook purses his lips, supports his weight on one hand as the other, the tattooed one, grips your jaw. He squishes your cheeks, bites his lip once—seemingly ponders whether he should play your game or not before he lets go of your pout, but still keeps his hand there. He traces the shape of your lips with this thumb, feeding his desire to kiss you with scraps. 
“Yes,” he utters. “Kisses, orgasms, my dog. It’s all—”
Orgasms, not just sex. Orgasms. 
“I get to take Bam?” 
Jungkook tuts at you. “You get to take me,” he corrects you. “Though, can even such a little thing like you take me?” 
Probably not. Definitely not. 
“But what about Bam?” 
He looks at you as if he couldn’t believe the words you’re saying, turning his head slightly to hear you better. Then, he scoffs, running his tongue across his lips swiftly, letting them express the enjoyment of your provocation by stretching into a smirk. He places his hand back on the right side of you, thinking over his words. 
“Bam is mine, but you can pet him. You can kiss him.” You can hear the feigned venom in that word as he spits it and you grin, pleased with yourself. You enjoy doing this to him. “And if you’re good, I’ll let you take him out for his walkies.” 
You gasp slowly, fingers absentmindedly gripping his thigh. Butterflies buzz you with a mere hint of arousal and to convey it, you wet your top lip with the tip of your tongue. The dominance, the principle of proving to him whether you’re deserving of something. Your heartbeat quickens, reaching for him with each swell. 
Oh, you’ll be good. You’ll be good until he’s sick of it. 
It seems he’s as pleased with himself as you were with yourself, reading your body language as he beams down at you, dimples poking holes in his cheeks. You want to stick your fingers there, pinch the skin at the corners of his mouth. Feel them, kiss them—
“Deal.” 
Jungkook blinks at you. He most likely expected you to be difficult. You like the look of surprise on him. A sweet kind of glint perches itself upon his irises. You’re at awe of how he manages to be so adorable and alluring at the same time. You could never understand it. You deem he must be otherworldly. 
“A kiss to seal the deal?” he tries, raising his brows, lowering himself to his elbows. 
He skims his lips across your cheek, descending to your neck. Places one, singular kiss there. Lifts his head to hear your answer, a soft curtain of hair falling across his forehead. 
You make a face as if you’re thinking about it. 
Jungkook groans. 
It’s cold, the way he turns away from you and it startles you—but then he slides his hands under your back and lifts you with ease, sitting you down on his lap. He moves you from the muscles on his thighs to the hardness of his intimate parts and you groan at the feeling of it. You’re wearing an airy short skirt with tights and knee socks underneath, the barrier so thin that you feel the solid, thick shape of him right under your femininity. 
You rock against him once. Jungkook lets out a sound akin to yours, fingers flexing—hands almost reaching for your behind before he decides against it and keeps them planted against your back. 
He desires your consent. And that makes you feel light-headed. Tipsy on the wholeness of him, on the pleasure coursing through your body. 
You rock your hips again—and this time, Jungkook whimpers. 
You take your hands and, slowly, you make a pathway down his chiseled chest. He twitches against you when your fingers pass by his nipples, his body following and squirming along. And once you reach the definition of his abdomen, your hands rise and fall against its quickening movement as his lungs heave. You’re mesmerized by his reaction to your touch. It’s as if it was his first time as well and something about that makes you woozy, savage and absolutely feline. 
And something about the way you’re allowed to do as you please, whereas he’s not, strengthens that state of mind, enriches it, thoroughly worsens it. 
You want him. 
It began with a ring and ended right here. 
And the process of your decision starts at his hips, finalizes at the pebbles of his nipples and finishes completely at the sides of his neck. He gives you the same, if not better, reaction, his manhood moving against you, and it’s settled. 
The giving of virginity to seal the deal, not just a kiss. 
Hovering your lips against his, you slip your hand to the place where you’re connected to feel up the shape of him. You moan onto him, vigorous power seizing you, propelling you to wrap your fingers around him. The breaths Jungkook emits are desperate, tortured, wafting over you, intoxicating you. It fills you with confidence unlike any other that you’re able to coax such a thing of beauty out of him—that you, the artist, have the upper hand momentarily while he doesn’t. 
And he waits, depends on you. You want to cry due to how happy it makes you, due to the way it suffuses an empty part of you, left abandoned by someone who should’ve taken care of it a long, long time ago. 
Because of that—if it’s kisses that he wants, you’ll give him as many as his body desires as a thank you. 
“You’re so hard against me,” you whisper. 
Jungkook grips your waist hard. 
“If you want it, you have to seal the deal,” he mimics your intonation, voice deep, tingling your tummy. 
“I want it.” You clutch both of your hands on his jawline, thumbs finding the invisible dimples. 
“Kiss me, then.” 
You whimper at the longing to do so. Your tummy clenches, butterflies inside swarm around and—
When you close your lips against his top lip, they burst into smithereens. Jungkook sighs in relief, enveloping you in his warmth. 
The kiss is hungry. You expected his first taste of you to be careful, contemplative, but he goes all in. Takes charge of the lip lock, swallowing you whole, moving against you, uttering low sounds that make your head spin and you just comply. Accept that you’re the one who submits to his craving and you find yourself liking it; find yourself wanting to deepen your submission. 
You wrap your legs around his waist, your head tilted as you reciprocate all of those hard kisses. When he comes up for air, he just gazes down at you, out of breath. One hand still on your back, the other cradles your cheek. There’s something puzzling in his eyes, as if he was fighting something within. You’re radiated by that energy, heavied down by it, letting him pet you like a puppy while you wait for the next step. 
“You’re so good that I’m considering letting you take Bam out,” he breathes, curling a wisp of your hair behind your ear. “Sweet little thing.” 
He pecks you once. You grind against his manhood and as he shortly groans onto your mouth, you splutter into giggles. Behind you, as if he heard him, the dog peeks his head out of the door, giving his Daddy a questioning look. Jungkook chuckles. 
“Bam, house.” 
The dog leaves and Jungkook sinks his fingers into your hair, sighing. Kisses you, again without tongue—only does what you’ve allowed him, but you overflow with the desire for more. He’s so considerate, so respectful and while you’re grateful for it, you want to break it. Your trust in him, made whole by all that he’s done for you, settled within you, made a bed in the sensitive parts of you that now shine. He doesn’t need to remain there—you want to go beyond that. 
“Touch me, please.” You look up into his eyes as you say it, willing them to see with all your energy how much you want him. 
He rubs soothing circles on your back. “If I touch you, I’ll fuck you, sweetheart.” 
You lift your butt ever so slightly and bounce down on him, your skirt furling. Jungkook moans, pleasing you to the core. It’s bratty of you, but it serves him right for being so stubborn, so firm in his control. You want to break him. 
“Can’t you see how much I want that?” you purr, bunching the cotton of his T-shirt in your fists. 
He merely shakes his head, licking his lower lip, fucking with you. He tugs on one of your braided pigtail, the other hand gliding to your hipbone. “This little girl is horny? I couldn’t tell.” 
A yellow light, sleepy in nature, spills through the blinds, latching onto the side of your neck. His eyes flick to it and his teeth sink into the wetness of his lip. He looks back at you when he says, “what was it that made you horny? The neck kisses?” 
He straps both of his hands to your hipbones now, adjusting you so your sweetest spot rests against his cock, rocking your hips like he wants them to. He swallows down his noises, makes room for yours. You figure he wants to hear them. 
You think about what made you horny. His respectful behavior. An electric spark spasms in your core at the memory and you roll your body against his at the impact—nipples pebbled, grazing below the hardness of his pecks. You moan loudly. He breathes heavily, can’t for the life of him contain that, gripping you with strength that will surely leave bruises. You add it to the list. 
His control—the momentary, delicious lack of it, too. The dominance that follows it. His noises and how unrestrained he is when it comes to them. The allure and the attractive charm of his looks, blended with that insufferable cutesiness. His hard cock. The neck kisses, too, of course. 
You summarize your answer and you tell him, “you.” 
A hitch in his throat. “Fuck.” 
Fuck, indeed. Fuck the steady rhythm—Jungkook speeds up your movement, the pace so fast your pigtails and your ribbons bounce, tits following suit. Your breath falls in step, moans echo within the walls of his room. He kisses you harshly, but that doesn’t silence you. He swallows your noises down, grunting. 
“You wanna know what made me hard for you?” 
You nod your head, lips forming a natural pout at the loss of contact. 
“Those fucking pigtails of yours. The knee socks. How tiny you are in my hands. Seeing you lose your fucking mind when I kissed your neck. Those marks I left behind, hm, fuck yes. Those marks made me crazy,” he mutters, staring you down. “And you know what else?” 
You wait for his answer as white flashes blind you, your roaring orgasm beckoning you close. He doesn’t stop rocking you against him, not once. Fills your brain with emptiness with his words coated wet by his dominant energy. You feel your own wetness soaking the fabric of your panties. 
“Your brattiness,” he says. “I want to fuck it out of you and make a good girl out of you that won’t misbehave again with her smart words.” 
A faint part of you, half affected by the pleasure he gives you, arises to stand up for you. “But I was good and you said so.” 
He clicks his tongue, disapprovingly shaking his head. Slows down the pace so you’re able to hear him loud and clear, your orgasm backing away. “You see the thing is with little bratty girls like you, even when they act good for me, there’s still that dark little side of them that hides. Unless I fuck it out of them, they play with me. And trust me, I like the game until I don’t.” 
You frown at him, but a moan betrays you. A fight throngs inside of you, his dominance yet again permeating you, causing you to flourish, but on the other hand, you don’t like being added to the mix. You want to be the only one—and it makes you angry that he had someone like you before you, that he even said it altogether. Though unfortunately, that’s something you can only keep to yourself. 
The forming attachment breaks, splitting into two, with the knowledge that your wish is futile. You understand he said it for the sake of the role-play that you both naturally, wordlessly established through sexual attraction, but you still have a lot of getting used to within the dynamic. He’s experienced, you’re not. Though, when you think about it, he doesn’t know a thing about your purity. You never told him. 
You blame yourself for your own pain. It’s your fault—you should’ve had a conversation with him about it before you let him do anything to you, instead of playing flirty games with him. You wouldn’t have gotten hurt, if he knew you were a virgin. The thought of what you’ve done stains you, makes you feel filthy, but you will it to kneel inside of you like a wounded animal. You need to be strong if you don’t want to storm out of his room in tears. 
No attachment, no liking. 
Just sex. 
There’s still a frown to your face, despite the fact you set yourself free with your decision. Jungkook chuckles at it, oblivious to your internal storm. 
“You didn’t like that, did you?” You didn’t like being compared to other girls he’d been with; there’s nothing to be said of the like about the role-play aspect. Being called bratty did rouse a moan out of you. “You prove my words right.” 
You roll your eyes. Jungkook grips your ass hard and spanks you. As the sting reverberates, along with it comes the realization you got what you wanted. 
You broke him. 
And now you have to face the repercussions. 
Good thing you’ve sobered up from the stupefaction of your arousal. 
You cradle his face and kiss him deeply in effort to change the narrative. No feeling of affection from earlier hangs upon your heart and you find that it’s easier like this. No strings, no pain. It relieves you—so much that you sense a layer of lightness to your body and tiny, manageable tears well in your eyes. You get to enjoy this after all. 
There’s radiance to your eyes, rooted in hope, and true softness to your words when you say, “I want you to fuck it out of me. I want you to be my first.” 
You want to be different—your pride is uninfluenced by your decision. If he fucks it out of you, the new narrative you’re longing for will fully take place and make living through this bearable. You know you can’t have him the way you’d like, but if fate wrote that you’re to have him this way—you don’t mind altering it to the little desires you’re allowing yourself to have. 
Once in a lifetime opportunity. You can’t lose it. 
Jungkook is left astounded by your words, eyes widening, shock evident on his features. Like your words, he softens, unclenching his fingers from your suppleness, the darkness in his irises making a way for gentleness to come through. He rubs the small of your back, hands ascending to your spine, feeling the clip of your bra, until he finds the nape of your neck. He holds you there, tenderly, as if you were a porcelain doll he now was careful not to break. 
The change in his demeanor is stark. It surprises you as well—and like everything that has happened within the hour, it isn’t something you expected from him. The emotion that emerges from the roundness of his eyes touches the hardness of your decision, tries to get through, pokes a gap inside, letting the light in. 
He tucks his darkness back inside. Strokes the back of your head, the silky ends of your ribbons sifting through his slender fingers. You relax against him and your body does it for you. It welcomes his tenderness, glad for the truth to be out. You fight against it—against yourself, willing your decision not to break but remain firm. 
No strings, no pain.
But to no avail. The light spreads. His light. Celestial twinkles of stars, small parts of him that make him who he is. 
“You’ve never had anyone before me?” he husks, regret glossing over his eyes, holding your head firmly as he awaits your answer. More stars spill like liquid. 
You shake your head ‘no’, your chest tightening. 
He kisses you and there’s something different about the way he does it. Now you can sense the carefulness you searched for earlier and you taste the primal core of loving care in the movement of his lips. The kisses are long, deep. As if you’re a different person now, a girl unlike any of the ones he mentioned. Someone who matters, someone who’s solid. You’re back at the beginning. 
A lump forms in your throat. 
“You sure about this?” he asks. 
One part of you, greater and illuminated by his stars, wants it gently like this, with flowers of innocence and purity besprinkled across his features, never leaving you out of his sight, taking care of you. But you fear that if you allow him to be tender, your heart will choose him again and cling to his side. The other, more faint part of you, affected by your decision, thinks it’s better to stick to the role-play, for there’s the aspect of illusoriness that will not bruise anyone’s hearts, especially not yours. It will make you horny, Jungkook will get you off and, glowing, you’ll go home.
You can’t decide. It’s too much of a heavy weight to bear on your shoulders. You can’t do it.
You need him to say the word. You need him to decide what will be the face of the trajectory of your premium friendship. 
Flowery or deceitful? 
A small candlelight in you hopes for gentleness and purity before your fear unfairly puffs it out. 
“Yes, I’m sure. I want you.” 
Jungkook lays you down and, at last, you feel his manhood against you. He bends to pepper apologetic kisses along the column of your neck and you feel the authenticity of his regret, thrumming against you warmly. Your breath hitches in your throat, the principle of the candlelight in you not being a high hope after all—
“I’m sorry. I should’ve gone about this better.” A kiss to your cheek; you stifle your sobs. “I should’ve checked in with you, but I jumped straight in. This was a mistake on my part. I’m sorry.”
He blames himself, not you. 
You want to remain stoic, but his authenticity beckons yours to come out and envelop him whole, gives access to your emotions and you can’t stop the miniature teardrop from flowing down the side of your nose. Neither can you stop the words that follow its footsteps. 
“I should’ve told you first,” you whisper, sniffling. Jungkook furrows his brows at the expression of your pain in tender emotion, wiping it away. “But I was bad—reckless.” 
He chuckles softly, caressing your hair. “You’re an angel. Sent to my side for me. You weren’t bad. I didn’t mean what I'd said.” 
His words, his touch, the kiss he adds to your cheek to punctuate his sentence—Jungkook erases everything that has just happened. 
Newness rushes in your chest, the pouring of spring into summer permeates your whole being. You hear the birds sing, the rustle of flimsy flower petals on tree branches as the warm wind grazes it with its touch. Jungkook seals this feeling by pressing a kiss to your sternum. 
He said it, so it must be so. You trust him. 
The firmness of the cage around your decision unlatches. Doesn’t fly away like the birds. Is a little bit afraid of peeking out. The candlelight returns to light up the room around that cage, blossoming into the sun. 
“We don’t have to do anything, if you don’t want to,” he says, looking up at you from the place where he dragged your top down to kiss your skin. 
The sun rays in you absorb all of the darkness. The firmness extends one wing. 
You run your fingers through his hair. Figure the only thing the summer in you is missing is the heat. You want him, you want sex and you don’t want to think about feelings or consequences. You don’t want to choose between anything anymore. You just want to enjoy yourself. 
“I meant it when I said that I want you to be my first,” you say, fingers curling around his ear. Jungkook leans into your touch and it’s as if he’s massaging the wing to alleviate it from a cramp due to being tucked in for so long. 
“Okay,” he sighs, taking your hands and pinning them on the pillow and bunny above your head. He sits up, examines you and you wonder if he can see how truly fragile you feel. “Do you trust me?” 
He’s had half a year of going out with you, mingling his life with yours, spending money on you and treating you like an absolute treasure to build your overall trust. And what he did just now? How he erased your pain? Your nod is immediate; you don’t need to think twice. 
“Of course I trust you.” 
“Good.” A soft smile. “I’ll make sure your first time will be beautiful for you.” 
Your heart thuds. His words steal all the breath in your lungs, smoothing out the surface of your body for his stars to fill. Tears prick at your waterline. 
“Are you scared?” 
You’re an empty canvas. 
“Not anymore.” 
Jungkook nods, gladness pulsating off of him. “I’ll be here the whole time. I won’t leave you, not even once, okay?” 
“Okay.” 
He finds the zipper on the side of your skirt and yanks it down. “How many times do you wanna come?” 
The ridiculousness of the question makes you laugh and you hide your face beneath your palms. “To be honest, I don’t expect to come at all. It is my first time after all.” 
You marvel at the honesty seeping out of you. His work, no doubt. 
Jungkook frowns, ridding you of the skirt, fingers hooking under the hem of your top. At the reveal of your pink, flowery, see-through bra, he stops altogether, stunned. He fondles the material, grazing over your soft nipples, at last reaching the embroidery of the small petals. He gasps in wonder, eyes flicking to your intimate parts to see if you’re wearing a matching set. 
The same flowers adorn the suppleness of your tummy. 
Jungkook smiles at his discovery. Is hasty as he drags the nylon of your tights down your legs, along with your knee socks. 
“I’ll decide how many times you come for me, then.” 
Heat pools in your femininity. There it is, the dominance that you love. Yet this time, it’s laced with his gentleness. Heaven on earth—a meadow full of flowers in the middle of summer. Like the ones on your lingerie. 
Joy grasps your heart. “Do I get to know before you start?” 
Jungkook chuckles, pressing a kiss on your tummy. “What, you wanna count them down for me?” 
You asked just because, but the idea excites you. You nod. 
Your response prolongs the rumble of his laughter and you feel its vibration as he kisses his way up to your clothed breasts. You’d think he’d focus his attention on them, but he straightens—reaches for something behind him and retrieves your white knee socks. He bunches them in his hands and puts them on you as if he were dressing a child. 
Paradoxically, goosebumps spread all over your thighs. 
Smoothing the material over your thighs, he lies back down against you, lips latching on the spillage of your breasts that your bra gives him. While it feels dizzying, you still want to know the number. You poke him in the bulging muscle of his arm and in the process, you flush his cheeks red. 
Jungkook pushes your tits together and licks over the line in the middle. The sight of the shine of his wet tongue against it drenches your pussy, ruining your pretty underwear, and you want him there, on your sweetest spot. Your nipples stand to attention and Jungkook listens to their call, thumbs brushing across them. 
You mewl, grinding your hips against his stomach. 
“Two times when I eat you out; two times around my cock,” he answers finally, awakening your butterflies. “How many times is that, then?” 
Amidst the pleasure, you do the math. “Four.” 
“That’s right. You think you can do that for me?” 
You’re not sure. In fact, you’re not sure of anything—lost in his touch, in his energy. 
“I don’t know,” you say, truthfully, skimming his face for a sliver of disappointment in his features. 
You find none. Only tenderness—round, soft eyes, brown in the light he radiates, nose and mouth buried in your tits, sucking on the skin, making you feel good. 
“That’s okay. We’ll try together. Nothing bad is gonna happen to you if you don’t come as many times. Or at all. I promise.” 
Your chest clenches. You grab his face and kiss him, licking over his bottom lip before you slip your tongue inside. Jungkook grunts, rolls his own muscle over yours, tasting you, feeling you. He inhales sharply against you, once again taking charge of the kiss, taking each and every thought and negative feeling you had and crushing it to smithereens. 
He lifts you and switches places with you, sitting you down on his lap with your back supported by his chest. He roams his hands all over you—tits, tummy, hips, sides and thighs while he busies his mouth on your shoulder. As your eyes follow each movement, you notice the marks he embellished your breasts with and your arousal grows—so much that you take his wandering hands and hook them under the waistband of your underwear, guiding them down your thighs. 
There’s a change to his breath when his index and middle finger feels up the fleshiness of your cunt for the first time. Hard, raggedy and absolutely tormented. He glides those digits up and down your dewiness, listening for the squelching sound that makes his cock twitch beneath you. 
He moans onto your neck, nose tracing the column on its way to your ear.  “How do you touch yourself?” 
A sudden shyness overtakes you and you turn your head, needing to hide in his neck this time. You remain silent, the words lodged in your throat. 
Jungkook sees you. 
“Do you rub your little clit from side to side or in circles?” he questions, helping you answer. 
“I—I like both,” you whisper onto his skin, moving your hips so his fingers slip to your clit, the sweet spot where you need him the most. He grabs the back of your thigh and lifts it, spreading you open, meanwhile you chase the firmness of his fingers.
“Just like that, ride them,” he husks, eyes dazed, fixed on the roll of your pelvis. “Feels good, doesn’t it?” 
Head on top of yours, you nod, never ceasing your movement, transfixed, just like him, by the constant way the pads of his fingers fondle your clit before dipping between your lips. The heat of the summer tightens in your lower belly and it’s a desperate litany of begging what your mouth utters, despite the fact you’re not really sure what you’re asking for, but you let him hear it. You’re close, so unbelievably close, yet still have a road to walk on before you, and you close your eyes to feel the delight of his touch more deeply, only to find that you manage to do nothing of the kind. 
When you sense his eyes on you and by instinct you reciprocate his stare, that’s when you feel the depth you sought after. Mouth parted, pupils dilated, eyelashes a drowsy catastrophe, messy hair casting a soft shadow over the planes of his blissed-out face. You want to kiss him. You want to make him feel as good as he’s making you feel—
“Let me do it now,” Jungkook says hurriedly, sensing the nearness of your climax. 
“Yes,” you croak out, halting the movement of your hips—and ‘yes’ is the word that ripples out of your mouth a hundred, a thousand more times when he spreads you wider and rubs his fingers on your clit from side to side. 
He feels the pleasure in sync with you, accepting all of your yes’, twisting his face the moment yours does, quickening the rapidness of his hand once he switches to circles to carry you to your summer-breathed paradise. 
And when you come all over his hand, he slips two fingers inside your hole.
He stills the buck of your hips. 
You widen your eyes at the new feeling of fullness and, panicking and constricting around him, you look at Jungkook, who merely strengthens his hold around you. 
“Trust me,” he says, breathing heavily. He doesn’t move his fingers past his first knuckles; he lets you adjust to the size. Gives you a kiss full of tongue to distract you. “Does it burn?”
You begin to pant against his mouth, the high of your orgasm long gone. You’re uncertain to count it as one when it was so short lived, ruined by the sudden plunge of his digits. But much to your surprise, you don’t detect any burn in your walls that he speaks of, which you realize was his intention.
“No, it just feels a bit uncomfortable.” 
He kisses you again. You feel your lips go numb, eyes lidding at the pressure you feel as he sinks his fingers a little bit deeper and begins to move them sluggishly, your slick creating another ring for him around his fingers. You try to meet his thrusts as the visceral sensation of being filled by longer, thicker fingers settles within you and takes roots. You discover that movement is the key to parting the uncomfortable feeling and it steps to the side to let the pleasure walk forward.  
Jungkook presses his palm flat against your clit, guides the pleasure to envelop your body when he plunges his fingers deeper, past the second knuckles and fucks you in swift jerks. Your mouth falls open in a silent moan and he fills in the sound, expressing his fiery delight for you at the clench of your walls against him, accommodating for him, for his desire to stretch you out, so when he finally enters you, no pain comes to greet you. 
Deeper and harder—yes, that’s what feels good. You roll your body, becoming waves of the sea as wetness and the build up of pleasure—seafoam—is all your senses wrap around. 
“Feels good, baby?” 
His need to check in with you speeds up the nearing expansion of your orgasm. Pointer and pinky finger digging into the skin of your backside, you watch the in and out motion, the digits coming out wetter and wetter each time.
“Feels so fucking good. I’m gonna come. I’m so close.” 
It’s quicker. Way quicker than your first tiny orgasm. He slips in and out of you so smoothly—you’re obsessed with the sight, ravaged by it entirely. You grind your hips and fuck yourself back, picking up the pace but slowing down instantly when you feel yourself at the peak of your climax.
You want to prolong it. You love the feeling too much to end it too soon.
Jungkook stops your movements fully.
“I want to be the one who makes you come,” he murmurs. “I want to be the one who fucks your brain out. I want to feel you squeeze around my fingers. Fuck, I want it so bad.” 
His hand drifts to your neck just to hold you there, the other, the busy one, fingers you harder, your fast approaching orgasm blinding your senses. Your drenched cunt squelches around him, the sound so lewd it causes you to seek comfort—your hand flies to his on your throat, fingers wrapping around his wrist, the tip of your pointer reaching the fat bulb of bunny’s head on his ring. 
Harder and faster. A scalding fire burns you and you just take it. Loll your head back against his shoulder, giving him the space to grip your jawline. Flames grow closer and closer, leaving a layer of sheen on your body in its wake. You feel the sudden need to pee.
“Oh my god, Gguk—” Your muscles tense. Close, so close. “Gguk, Gguk—”
“What, baby? What’s the matter?” he husks, squeezing your neck once. “You’re gonna come for me? Gonna come on my fingers?” 
You nod quickly, too quickly. Flames of the sun, licking you. Flames of the summer heat. Just what you wanted. 
Jungkook opens your jaw, swirling his tongue around yours. “Let go. Come for me. You can do it, I got you—I got you. Come for me, baby, please.”
Obeying his desperate order, you do.
A small stream of your pleasure, a faint fountain, trickles out of you and into his hand. He gasps, in unison with your whimpers, and you’re transmitted elsewhere. The wildly colorful, blooming meadow on a hill, overlooking the languorous sea and he’s there. Reaches behind himself. Offers you his hand. The wind ruffles his black hair, sweeps it back and you’re giddy—as giddy as Bam, as giddy as you were in the moment the slid the white bunny ring on your finger—to take the last two of his slender fingers, the pinky and the ring, and sit with him by the edge of the cliff. 
“Did so well for me.” 
The whisper takes you back and you awake. 
You’re different. Incandescent. Of life, of stars and its light, of growing fondness for the man you sit perched on the lap of, whose fingers still remain sheathed inside of you. He changed you. Perpetually, absolutely. He changed you and made you into something new. Something that is softer, more elegant—smaller but assertive. Alluring and kind. Indisputably good. 
He fucked everything negative out of you with his fingers. Left the vast canvas of stars inside of you.
You’re no longer a plain spread of cotton, but a living, breathing artwork. His artwork.
Once he fucks you with his cock, you wonder what further internal changes are going to occur within you.
You feel a great deal of gratitude for him—and you want to reciprocate all that he’s done for you. You want to work hard at it. Spoil him. Make him whimper. You believe he deserves it.   
“You finger yourself often? How come you took my fingers so well, hm?” 
You’re panting, unable to speak. Absorbing the sharpness of the stars, acclimatizing to the change. 
“I guess you do, huh?” he deduces. “Good little girl, preparing herself for me.” 
For the life of you, you can’t catch your breath.
Jungkook kisses your cheek deeply. Pecks you on the same spot a hundred times, slowly taking out his fingers. Lets you see your slick coating his fingers and, softly, you gasp at the little ripples of wrinkles upon the tips of his fingers, mouth parting.
And then he sinks them into your mouth. 
His hardness twitches behind you and you moan, your daintily bittersweet taste making your head spin. And when you look at him, you’re met with the utmost pink-dusted adoration painted on his face. You kiss it, inhaling it, letting it flow into your system so it suffuses your bloodstream, letting him taste you. You may not feel your lips, but the sentient poetry of the stars begins to sing in you. His stars. You feel like a flushed floweret visited by a bee. Spent, but happy. 
Happy to be wanted.
Good, because he said you were.
As if internally intertwined with him, you feel the identical heat tinge your cheeks. 
He says nothing as he lays you down and spreads your legs back to the way they were. Though when he’s graced with the sight of your bare cunt in all her glory, his face says everything that his mouth isn’t capable of. Hunger and torture—lips agape, corners of the mouth shiny with the rush of drool and Jungkook wipes it away, then lowers his fingers to your clit, to your lips, becoming more acquainted with this intimate part of you that no one had seen before him. He traces your small hole, even going as far as to your other, tinier hole and you yelp, stopping his exploration. 
Jungkook merely chuckles, eyes darting to yours. “You’re so pretty.” You grow so hot that you think you must be on fire. “Especially there.” 
You mewl, shrinking, hands looking for anything to hold and finding his bunny plushie. You take her into your arms, inhaling a scent that could never be hers. You recognize immediately whose it is. 
Musk, vanilla, wood. 
The thought of Jungkook cradling her while he sleeps moves you and you pout. 
“How we feeling?” he asks, still caressing your fleshy cunt, dripping with dew. 
Overjoyed. Overstimulated.
Heavenly.
“Good.” 
A foxy smile. “How many orgasms was that, hm?” 
You don’t know where your shyness comes from and why it chokes all of the words you want to say. You bury your face in bunny for a moment, taking a breath to fight against it, so you can please him because that’s all you yearn to do. 
You open your mouth, but no words come out. 
Jungkook stifles a laugh and it makes you feel terrible. And it’s worse when he leans over to kiss you, turns his head at the last moment and faces bunny.
“Bunny, how many times did she come?” he asks her, offering her his ear to hear her answer. Looks at you. Widens his eyes. Gasps. “Two,” he mouths. Listens some more. Nods. “I know she thought she wouldn’t come at all. Crazy, right?” Then he lets out an endearing sound. “She said she’d believed you could do it the moment you said it. She’s so happy for you. How cute,” he coos. 
You giggle, the bridge in your throat loosening, light flooding you, over and over, until you think you can’t take any more of it. You feel so full, so happy and the sensation threatens to pour out of your tear ducts. 
It heals something within you—that he treats you like this at your most vulnerable state. Your inner child flares, the stars the strength that fixes her stoop, helping her arise, stand straight, stand powerfully. 
He smiles down fondly at you. “So what number are we at?” 
You hide your face behind your hands. “Two.” 
“What did you say? I didn’t catch that.” 
You drop your hands and with as much energy as you can muster, you repeat the number. 
He purrs, caressing your cheek. “Good girl.” As a reward, as if the praise wasn’t enough, he kisses you deeply. “Will you let me taste you?” 
You swallow his desire, but speak up your own, “I want to taste you first, please.” 
Jungkook hums, curses under his breath. He straightens and kneels before your form, fingers pinching the back of his T-shirt and pulling it over his body. You catch the sight of his broad shoulders, of each dip and muscle, and your irises grown in width. Him ridding himself of his clothes dishevels his hair and as he untangles his arms from the material, he smiles down at you, noticing your stare. 
He caresses the back of your thigh before his hand flies to his hard length. He palms himself once, then continues to undress—tugs his sweatpants down to his knees, though he doesn’t bother himself to fully take them off. The shape of him is more prominent through the fabric of his white Calvins, the bulge of his mushroom wet and pellucid, and you sit up, hand itching to touch him, to join his in making him feel good, but he cups your chin—forcing you to look up at him. 
He swipes his thumb over your lips. “You want it?” 
You nod. “So bad.” 
Jungkook curses again, the sound low and rough. 
“Touch it,” he orders and both of your hands listen, wrapping around his girth, squeezing beneath the head of his cock. The thickness of him makes you see the light of the stars that you sense fluttering feverishly inside of you. Your mind is too empty, too washed out by your orgasm, by the change that you don’t even think about how you’re going to take him. Jungkook hisses, tilting his head back before he looks down at you intently. “You did this before?” 
You’ve never seen one in real life before, let alone touched one.
“I’ve never let anyone get this close.” 
Jungkook strokes your pigtails. “How come you know what to do then?” 
Instinct or memory from porn you watched—you don’t know, it all blends together within the fuzziness of your mind. And you tell him.
“I watch a lot of porn.” 
Jungkook smiles coyly and it strikes you. You’ve never seen him smile this way before or, even, feel this way before. All you know from him is dominance, dominance and dominance. 
You release him from the confines of his boxers and repress your gasp. His ever glistening tip reaches just below his navel and the thickness of his girth obscures most of his pubic hair. Along with the sound of your surprise, you also have a hard time swallowing the saliva collecting in your mouth. 
“I want you so bad,” you whisper, needy eyes looking up at him. Shy, too shy to let your gaze linger at the most intimate part of him. 
He sucks in a breath at your words, hissing. And you need him inside of you all over again. 
Fuck fuzzines in your mind. You’re fuzzy all over. Wrecked with nerves, suddenly. Your hands tremble, hovering in front of his manhood. Jungkook covers them with his, soothing you, and guides you to his shaft. Wraps your fingers around him. Doesn’t let go. 
The feel of him under his supervision is slow. He allows you to take in every ridge of him, every vein—the softness of his skin, the warmth and the weight. Round after round, up and down, until you get familiarized with him. A trickle of his male essence drips down the side of him and your tongue instinctively darts out. Like your hands, Jungkook’s breath shakes and he anticipates your next move, despite the fact he’s in charge. 
He’s been patient all this time, giving you the time you needed. But that hardly applies when you have him in your hands, when you own his neediness. His whimpers while he waits coax your slick out of you, soaking the bedding beneath you and you can’t take it anymore. 
Neither, evidently, can he. 
“Baby, please,” Jungkook croaks out. Tortured, so terribly tortured. Grip tight and clammy around your hands. 
So vulnerable. 
You ache. 
You lick up a stripe of his essence on the side of his cock and Jungkook shudders. Shifting onto your knees, you show him the milkie on the tip of your tongue and Jungkook pulls your hair, tilting your head back. Kisses you nastily, licking into your mouth. Moans, lowly. Then, he holds his girth at the base and pushes your head. 
When you take him, a mewl ripples around the thickness of him. His eyes roll back and his grasp of your hair tightens, burning your scalp, adding to the fire. He lets you feel it out; lets you figure out what to do, testing your knowledge from the porn you’ve watched. And the tensing of his stomach divulges his strained effort not to fuck your mouth. 
You go slow about it. Swirling your tongue around that rosy head of his, along that delicious ridge, licking a flat stripe across that line of his slit. Getting to know him in all those intimate places, relying on your senses—on them to tell you what he likes. Your hand begins to move on its own, gliding back and forth in tandem with your tongue stimulating his sensitivity. You try not to think about how you can barely fit him in your mouth, because if you do—you’ll ruin his bedsheets. 
But then Jungkook hums in approval, sending a gush of wetness out of you and you whimper—you whimper at the worsening ache you feel, at the helplessness that pools in your system by being just so filthily wet and horny. 
He moves your hand faster. Breath jagged, bedroom eyes zeroing down on you. And then—
Jungkook moans your name. Over and over, clenching and unclenching his hand on the back of your head. 
“Don’t have to teach you shit,” he spits. “You just watch porn all day, don’t you? Naughty girl.” 
Losing control for a split second, he rams his cock into your throat—and you don’t panic, you don’t yelp. Instead, you groan. 
He pulls you away from him with a sharp tug. Kisses you harshly. Shoves you down into the pillows with one push on your sternum.
Bending you in half, he drinks your cunt. Lips immediately suck on your needy bundle of nerves and it’s so fast you don’t even know which part of you he’s focusing on because he’s everywhere. Clit, hole, clit, hole—sucking, licking. Alternating, alternating so swiftly and deliciously that you completely lose your mind. 
And then he lifts your hips and holds them in the air, wanting you to see what he’s doing to you. Like you, he darts out his tongue and teases you, hovering the muscle above your clit. Shiny, nimble, capable of doing unspeakable things to you. He watches as your pussy drools for him and he chuckles darkly. Tongue lowering to collect it, but unlike you he never does it. He lets the dew trickle down your skin. 
“Cute little pussy. So wet. Wetter than when I fucked it. You liked playing with me on your knees, didn’t you?” 
With your fucked out brain, you don’t think it’s taunting what he’s doing. You deem it’s just him reveling in what he’s able to do to your body—in the fact that he owns it, that he teaches it new things. The glint in his dusky, lustful eyes proves it. 
Jungkook drags a long stripe on your clit, making your eyes flutter closed and your teeth to sink into your bottom lip to cage in your moans. 
“Talk to me.” 
You can’t. You don’t know how to talk. 
He stares you down. 
No answer from you. Just hard pants. Pussy drooling. 
“I won’t play with you, then.” 
Panic. “No.” 
He cocks a brow at you. “No?” 
Silence. 
He begins to lower you down but you grip his forearm. 
“Jungkook.” 
Bent over above you, head low, he merely flicks his eyes to yours. Duskiness, such blackening duskiness in those orbs. 
“Beg.” 
All your muscles tense. Wetness gushes out of you. 
Lucky for you, that word he wants is the one you haven’t forgotten. 
“Please.” 
“Please what?” 
You groan in frustration. 
“Be nice or—”
“Please, lick me.” 
That dark chuckle. You feel yourself becoming obsessed with it. 
“Where?” 
A challenge. Your throat dries up. 
“There.” 
He shakes his head disapprovingly, making a sound that expresses just how much he didn’t like that. 
“Try again. Last chance, little girl.” 
The loving smile on his face says everything about how that threat is feigned. You hear it tell you—you have as many chances as you need. He’s merely encouraging you to step out of your comfort zone. 
And something about that mellow, hidden kindness gently ushers you to do just that. 
“Lick my clit, please.” 
A hum. A long stripe on that sensitive, thumping spot. A roll of his tongue forward and backward.  
“Like this?” 
You choke out a moan. 
“Yes, please.” 
“Or—” He blows on you, causing you to tremble. “Like this?”
He shakes his head against you briskly, not yet at a full tilt. Just like his, your body shudders in his hands and he tightens his grip on your supple hips. You can’t take it, the pleasure is overwhelming and—
“Look at me,” he orders and you open your eyes, immediately. “Like this?” 
Jungkook adds more pressure and rapidness to the movement, leaving you glazed sweetly in the sheen of his saliva. He moves your hips up and down on the firmness of his tongue and you scream, taking a strong hold of his hair.
“Oh my god, yes, fuck, Daddy—”
Shocked, Jungkook groans against your pussy, slowing down to ingest what your mouth has just uttered. It’s more than natural to call him by a title like this, instinctual, innate. It fits him so well and it drenches your pussy, your slick amalgamating with his liquid love. You’re certain he feels the rush.
Your Daddy. 
You roll your hips against his tongue. Dark and more dark, those eyes of his. Bottomless pit.
“Fuck yes, call me Daddy again.” 
The whimpers you let out are pathetic and Jungkook shudders at them, groaning. You whine the title over and over again, a verdant, dreamlike litany of your feminine sexuality pampered, cared for, supervised. Jungkook accepts the gravity of it all, each declaration propelling him to suck your clit harder, bruises forming on your hips from his deathly grip, black eyes never leaving yours, hypnotizing you. 
And when you come like this, it’s unification what happens. 
You’re bound to him and he’s bound to you. 
Daddy and little girl. 
Throughout your sexual experience today, you had a hard time accepting things but this—this is something that slept inside of you all your life and just now has been awoken to a flickering canvas of bright stars. You feel it blink, adjust to the piercing light, before it smiles dolefully—happy to be conscious, happy to be caressed.
Jungkook kisses you and takes his time. The taste of your femininity, the fresh coldness of your change, the strong wine of his desire. You’re drunk. You’re slurring your mewls. 
And one thing about unification, it’s a mirror. 
You swallow down the same mewls, uttered by his throat. 
“Daddy’s gonna give it to you,” he whispers, adjusting between your legs. “Will be gentle. You’re safe with me.” 
He rakes the tip of his length along the entirety of your little sea-kissed seashell. 
“You want it? You want Daddy’s cock inside of you?” 
Jungkook looks into your eyes deeply as he asks you that question, the tip ready at your significantly smaller hole. He peppers kisses along your jawline and chin. 
“I’m scared it’ll hurt,” you murmur, brows furrowed. 
He kisses your cheek, the corner of your mouth. 
“We’ll chase the pain away,” he promises.
Your frown deepens. 
“But what if it doesn’t fit?” 
You expect him to chuckle, but he does no such thing. He absorbs your worry by kissing you tenderly. Then he glances at your body. Remembers he never took off your bra and fixes his mistake. 
“You may be small, but you were made to take me,” he says and your heart skips a beat; you wonder if he understands the gravity of his words as they take roots within you, rising to bloom into splendid flowers. “Besides, my dick is tiny. You won’t even feel it.” 
It is so far from the truth that you burst into giggles. He laughs along with you—a mirror reflected. 
Stars and flowers. Sea and freshness. You were made to take him. You trust him. 
He kisses your breasts, licking over your nipple—but briefly. Holding his shaft, he asks if you’re ready. You nod, your fingers desperately searching for his and Jungkook notices. Sinking slowly inside of you, he grabs his bunny plushie and tucks her into the crook of your elbow. 
There’s a pinch of pain, blended with the feeling of discomfort as your walls stretch around his head. 
Seeing it painted on your face, Jungkook draws close, enveloping you and bunny in his heat. Pushes a little more in. You wail softly, the pain intensifying. Fear intermingles with your features and Jungkook—the worry in his countenance makes you almost weep.
“Hold onto me,” he says, brows scrunched, so—so serious. “Relax, baby. I got you.”
You hook your arms around his neck, bunny sandwiched between your chest and his. Jungkook saves this time to let you adjust around him. 
“I know it hurts,” he whispers onto your mouth, index finger, the ringed one, stretching to graze your cheek. “Just relax your muscles for me. It’ll feel good soon.” 
You nod, trusting him. 
He pecks you. Smiles. 
“How many orgasms are we at?” 
You roll your eyes, your own smile threatening your lips. “Three.”
Jungkook hums. Pecks you again. You feel your walls loosening, little by little.
A smug smirk. “You didn’t expect that, did you?” 
“You obliterated my expectations.” 
“Just wait until I fuck you properly.” 
You blush, eyes twinkling. 
“Pretty girl.” He kisses you and you feel your attachment forming again, though this time—newly. As light, as free as an entanglement of seaweed upon seashore, you and him. Connected. Bound. No fear, not even a hint of it. “I heard you watch porn.” 
Your flush deepens. Jungkook sinks a little deeper. A faint pain—nothing bad. 
“Who told you?” You laugh, the sound ridding you of your shyness. 
But Jungkook grows solemn.
“Tell me what kind you watch,” he whispers, angling his head to give you a tiny kiss. 
Your cheeks hurt from the smiling, from the onrush of emotions within you, sloshing to and fro. You feel hot all over.
“The one where all the focus is on the girl,” you whisper back. “The guy uses all kinds of toys on her and she just takes it. Comes so many times and there’s a countdown for it.”
Humming, he begins to nibble on the skin beneath your jaw, making your breath shallow. He pushes in another inch—and the pain is worse. You tighten your grip around him.
“And how many times do you come when you watch it?” Deep, deep is his voice, the calmness to your nerves due to the pricking you feel. 
“I don’t stop coming.” 
Jungkook swears under his breath and clenches his digits into a fist beside your head.
“And you finger yourself?” 
You nod, confidently. Another inch. He smiles at your confirmation of his deduction.
“How many fingers?” 
You scoff. “Just one.” 
“Well done,” he praises, kissing you once, keeping his mouth on you even as he asks, “ready?” 
You nod, again, even though there’s fright to your eyes. He sees it and he brushes his eyelashes against your eyelids while he kisses you, taking it all away. And he doesn’t stop, even as he pulls out and thrusts back into your heat. Gently, so awfully gently. 
He didn’t break his promise. 
Jungkook rocks his hips in slow, sensual, prolonged staccatos, moaning into your parted mouth. You’re so focused on him—on the bulging of his muscles on the either side of your head, the broadness of his shoulders, the slick sweat dripping down his neck, right from the top of his tattoo; on the sheerness of his pleasure as he moves in and out, carefully so as to not frighten you, that the pain quickly subsides. 
And there you feel it. 
The sensation unlike any other. 
He rams into you, seeing the wrinkle between your brows smoothing, the lust clouding your eyes as the delight spreads all over your body, bringing along little dots of goosebumps. The night sea, windless, still hot from the afternoon’s goodbye kiss. You feel it—and you feel it deeply, sinking inside of you with every inch of his manhood. So much that you meet his thrusts. 
“That’s it, baby. Fuck yes,” Jungkook murmurs, enraging the waves within. “Feels good, doesn’t it? Being fucked?” 
Stars and its light. He picks up the pace, hooking your leg over his shoulder, entering you deeper and deeper, giving you more than half. The thrill of feeling so full—you curse, you moan, you can’t hold it in, even if you tried. And Jungkook coos at your conveyance of the pleasure he’s giving you, never lifting his eyes off of yours, off of your features, your emotions. Surveying you, controlling you, making sure you’re okay—more than okay.
You sense the pressure coil deep within your core, the sense of your climax approaching and you’re astonished at how quick it is. You halt your own movements, needing—wanting him to be the one to get you there, the one who owns your orgasms. 
“Gguk, Gguk, fuck—”
“I know,” he breathes. “I’m gonna make you come all over my cock.” 
He fucks you harder, making you cry out. Deep, deep staccatos, so different from the slow, languid ones. You can’t catch your breath, the sea within you sloshes violently and then—
Softly, you sprinkle him with your fountain of pleasure. Not enough to drive him out, but sweetly enough to force him to groan against you and pound you harder into the mattress. Continuing as if you hadn’t come. 
You don’t have the time or the space to think about what just happened—he fucks each and every thought of you. 
“My little squirter,” Jungkook mutters, kissing you. “One more, baby. One more for me and I’ll paint you with my cummie. Hm, you want that?” You’re gone, flung out of this world into a tranquil island. The palm trees, the sea and his cock. Your emotions are numb, body limp. All you feel is his cock, ramming and ramming into you. “Or you wanna swallow it for me like a good girl?” 
“Swallow, please,” you croak out and Jungkook makes a sound of approval. Rewards you by giving you the full thing, filling you balls-deep. 
“You feel me?” He kisses you, tugging your bottom lip with his teeth. 
Glorious, glorious delight. You can’t breathe. Too much. 
“I feel you—” You lift your head to look down where you’re connected. “I—I feel you in my stomach.” 
Sitting back, he lifts your hips and palms the bulge just a little bit above your mound. Feels it move under him once he resumes fucking you. He replaces his hand with yours, keeping you distracted as he undoes the ribbon in your hair and ties your wrists with it. Right there above the bulge, where he fucks you. Then he latches onto your hips and jackhammers his cock into you, watching as your tits along with bunny bounce with each slam. 
“You look so pretty like this, tied up for me, taking all that I’m giving you,” he says, thumbing your clit, making you cry out. “Such a good fucking girl for me. I’m bringing you up so well.” 
“Daddy,” you call out and Jungkook nods.
“Yes, that’s right. Daddy is fucking you so good.” 
White flashes. Seafoam. The pressure in your tummy deepening and deepening. The roar of the night sea and your body following—you come all over him, painting him iridescent with your dewiness. His joggers, dragged halfway down his thighs, his boxers are all ruined—pelvis, thighs and cock glistening. It’s such a beautiful image to you that it suffuses you with energy and you begin to speak. 
“Please, come for me.” 
Surprised, Jungkook chuckles. “Don’t you have orgasms to count down?” 
The ever persistent need for control. You kiss him, slip your tongue into his mouth to shut him up and you struggle against your ribbon, for the feeling of kissing him without your hands makes you feel iffy.
“Five. I came five times for you just like you wanted,” you whisper. “You fucked me so good. I’ll never forget it.” 
And it’s the truth.
Jungkook pecks you once deeply, humming into the kiss. He pulls out of you and whilst he strokes his cock, his fingers tug down the ribbon around your wrists. You take your place on your knees, gazing with awe and hunger at his shiny length. And as if he needed it, he plunges his fingers into your mouth for more lubrication. Then, grabbing your jawline gently, he pulls you in towards his cock, letting your lips play with his tip the way you like it as he jerks himself off. You flick your tongue under the ridge of his head and his length twitches, stunning you. You do it again, more rapidly, and you don’t stop until Jungkook begins to tremble. Pulling him inside your mouth, then out, flicking faster and faster. Repeat. 
Jungkook grunts. 
“Yes, like that, princess. Fuck, I’m gonna come for you.” 
He announces it, but it still comes as a surprise when the first rope of hot cum spills onto your flushed cheek. You suck him harder for a moment before you stick out your tongue, eyes flick up, as he empties his balls for you, his hand never ceasing the swift tug on his length. 
And he just keeps coming. Rope after rope. Liquid star after star.
And you swallow it all. 
Spent, sweaty and breathless, he helps you swallow it. Dragging his fingers to the places your tongue can’t reach, he feeds you his cum and you suck on his digits. Your heart thuds in your ribcage, especially when he begins to play with your tongue, smiling down at you in that dopey way. 
He pats you on the cheek once you show him you’ve swallowed it all. 
“Good girl. Good little princess.” 
That you are. A changed person for all eternity.
“Is your tummy full?” 
You nod, beaming vehemently up at him, the aftertaste of the bitterness of his liquid stars still wafting through your senses.
The three forbidden words rise in your tongue, even though you don’t believe them—you think it’s just the opulence of new emotions and experience that forces those words on your tongue. But they remain adamant when he bathes you clean, when he brushes your hair and gives you his clothes to wear to bed. They provoke you right there on the tip of your tongue when he gives you his zipper hoodie to wear on his balcony once you tell him you need a smoke and he joins you, giving you his pack of cigarettes. 
And they come off the edge, in a different form, when you tell him of how he changed you while you hold his hand and he caresses your damp strands with a cigarette propped between his index and middle fingers, kissing your cheek. The smoke fixes a makeshift halo around both of your heads. One body, one halo. Bound.
“You’re such a lovable person, Gguk.”
What you don’t know is that those mere words changed the entire trajectory of his life. Yours, too.
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© 2024 hoseoksluna, all rights reserved.
BACK to masterlist / read part one, read part two, part three
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newfallstrangeleaves · 7 months
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Yandere with a unknown identity
Breaking and entering
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M!Yandere X F!reader Warning: non-con, fingering F! Receiving. Summary: You had a terrible day and end up going to bed early when a masked man breaks in and decides to make it all better.
Part 2 aaand Another part
You had such a bad day today. Nothing seemed to go your way. All day you kept your emotions in. When you got back home all you did was throw off anything uncomfortable and then crawl into bed to just cry it out. 
While crying your heart out you don't notice the bedroom window slowly creeping open and a dark shadow climbing in. He is just about to walk further into your apartment when a sniffle stops him in his tracks. 
Perhaps it's the feeling of being watched, but something tells you to turn around. When you do you are met with a tall man dressed entirely in black. Not even a speck of skin is showing. His face is covered by a balaclava and the room is dark, only the lights from outside shine in but you can tell he is looking at you. 
In an instant he throws himself on top of you, pinning you down. You try to scream but he covers your mouth, muffling any sounds you make. Your panic is met with soft hushes which by no means calms you. He is way stronger than you. He holds both your hands down with one hand while he covers your mouth with the other. He has one leg on either side of you, straddling you, forcing you lower body in place while not putting all of his weight on you. 
You struggle against his grip but to no avail. Tears stream down your face. The mix between panic, crying and a hand covering your mouth makes you gasp for air. 
"Shhh, shhh. It's fine, I promise I'm not going to hurt you. Just breathe, breathe okay?" He hushes you softly. Because of the lack of air you force yourself to calm down. Taking slow breaths through your nose. 
"I'm going to move my hand okay? Don't scream." He says firmly and when you do he chuckles, pleased by your obedience. 
"Good girl." He whispers as he starts to wipe away your tears.
All the while you look up into his only exposed feature. His eyes. Even with only the moonlight shining in through your window his blue eyes are piercing through you. 
"Don't hurt me.” Your voice is barely a whisper. 
“I'm not going to, I told you that before." He stops for a moment before he speaks again. "Why were you crying before?” 
He wipes away a few more tears that escape you as you avoid his gaze. 
"It's okay, you can tell me." When you don't answer he continues. 
"Did something happen today? I could tell you were upset when I got here." 
When you still don't answer he moves off your body and with one arm pulls you after him making you sit up beside him. His sudden motion and the fact you don't know what he possibly could want from you makes you panic again. 
"I don't have much money. I… you can have my jewelry." 
"I don't want any of that, I want to know why you're crying." He cuts you off. You take a moment to calm down before you answer him. 
"I just had a bad day, that's all." It feels like your heart is beating out of your chest. But then he nods, straightening his back.
"That's alright, it's over now. If that's any help." Then he squints his eyes and you can only guess that he is smiling under his mask. Then he looks down, catching your shirt riding up exposing skin. He takes a deep breath before he continues with a low voice. 
"Maybe I can make it a little better." Without really being able to do anything he moves you to sit in his lap with your back pressed against his chest. You let out a small gasp and squirm in his grip as you feel something hard pressing up against your ass. He grabs one of your legs to hold you in place and to spread your legs. You try to pry his hand off you but his grip on you is too firm.
He places a leather gloved hand on your clothed cunt, groping and rubbing. The friction makes your breath hitch. He moves his finger up and down your underwear and much to your dismay a sting of pleasure hits you everytime he brushes over your clit. He rests his head on your shoulder whispering in your ear. 
"You're so beautiful, I'll make all your problems go away, I promise." 
He pushes your panties to the side and slides a finger inside you while he circulates your clit with his thumb. He curves his finger looking for that perfect spot.
"Please stop…" 
"Shhhh… you will feel so good soon." 
He adds another digit inside you, that together with the gloves extra thickness he stretches you out. A whine escapes you, which prones him to work faster. You can feel yourself getting closer with each move he makes. Your breathing grows heavier and so does the knot in the lower half of your stomach. His fingers hit a certain spot inside you and you jolt as if electrocuted. A moan leaves your lips as he continues to abuse that spot.  
You grip his arm, scratching him through his shirt as your orgasm riples through you. Throwing your head back on his shoulder as you bite your lip to try and suppress any sounds, but a muffled moan slips you anyways. He works you through your high and stops when you relax leaning back on him. 
"Didn't that feel good huh?" He nudges your cheek with his nose. 
"How about we go for another one?" You shake your head but he doesn't care. His hands start up again. 
His hand lets go of your leg and worms his way under your shirt. With no bra on he goes right to squeezing your boobs and playing with your nipples.
"Oh, you're so wet. I wish I could be inside you. Feel your pussy clench around my dick instead of my fingers." 
Another orgasm ripple through you. But this time he doesn't stop. 
"You're doing so good. Just a few more for me." 
The room is filled by the wet sounds from your pussy and the moans that you have stopped caring about. All your mind can focus on is his fingers. 
You couldn't keep count over how many orgasms he made you go through until he decided you finally had enough. 
You feel exhausted. Leaning back panting on his broad frame. Sore from the over stimulation. 
"How are you feeling?" He holds you so impossibly close to him, one of his arms wrapped around your waist. He is gently rubbing your cheek with his index finger. The leather feels cold against your skin. 
You look up at him through hooded eyes and for a moment you two just look at each other. Then you move your hand to pull off his hood but he grabs your wrist. 
"Not today, hun. Another time I will show you." He gently lifts you up and moves you off his lap. 
"I'll be back in a sec okay? Don't move." He tells you as he stands up. Before he leaves the room he grabs your phone. You can hear him walking around in the kitchen. 
When he gets back he hands you a glass of juice and a towel. You cover your lower half with the towel as you watch him pick out new clothes for you. You can't not notice the giant wet stain that is left on his pants. He hands you the clothes and goes to get his bag by the window and set it back down on your bed.
"Do you want me to help you shower?”
“No, I want you to leave.” You say firmly. He takes a deep breath before nodding. 
“Okay, I'll leave. Just before I go." He opens up his bag and reaches down. Fear overwhelms you like a cold shower. He must have noticed you tensing up because he says. 
“It's okay, I'm just going to give you money. Take the day off tomorrow and the day after that too. This will be plenty to not disrupt your economy. And hey, treat yourself, eat out or buy something nice. I know how hard working you are, you deserve it." He hands you the money and then heads for the front door.
But before he leaves he turns back to you once more. “And remember to lock, will you? Been too many times where I have got here and you've forgotten to lock for the night. The window too. You can never be too careful.” And with a wave he is gone, left is just a stack of money in your lap.
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late-to-the-fandom · 2 years
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The stress of running a rebellion is affecting Renathal's sex life. The Maw Walker is as helpful as ever. Rated E for explicit (yep, there's smut here). Read here on Ao3 for triggers and tags
Takes place many months prior to Taking the Tremaculum, before the imprisonment of Denathrius
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Renathal closed his eyes, gritted his teeth, and tried to concentrate on the beautiful Nightborne beneath him.
The Maw Walker lay spread out for him, naked and pliant, like the most delectable feast; her long hair a dark halo fanning across the sheets of his Sinfall bed. The gift of her exquisite body was something he knew she did not give to just anyone and he certainly never took it for granted, but even more rare and precious was the gift of her time. She was probably the busiest, most sought after being in the Shadowlands. There were a hundred places she could be and things she could be doing, many of them of great importance, Renathal knew, and she had chosen to snub them all and come here to do ... well ... him.
And he was not doing very well.
Renathal's fingers dug into the Maw Walker's hips, as he ground against her again, frustration leaking into his movements in spite of himself.  What was wrong with him tonight?
He had been looking forward to this moment all week - an exceptionally trying week and one he thought would never end. Denathrius' loyalists had kept up a constant siege against the Bridge of Banishment, the Stone Fiends' attacks had disrupted his communication network, and the marauders lurking in the Ember Ward had attacked the Sanctuary of the Mad, damaging the lift and sparking a litany of inconveniences and complaints from everyone in Sinfall. It seemed his Sire meant to inflict on his rebellion a death of a thousand cuts; Renathal could sense their momentum bleeding out little by little with every new minor setback.
Through it all, Renathal had pictured this evening, when the Maw Walker had promised to be here no matter what. His greatest fear through the week had been that something more urgent would steal her away, but she had kept her word, had arrived in his quarters only a few minutes late, robes freshly cleaned and eyes sparkling with anticipation like some divine vision. And to repay her for her effort he himself could not seem to rise to the occasion.
What was holding him back? Renathal wondered furiously. He wanted it, wanted her - there was a tension curled so tightly in him he thought he might burst from it. But no matter his rhythm or his pacing, no matter what he grabbed, or kissed, or sucked, he could not release it. It was maddening.
The Maw Walker shifted sharply underneath him, and Renathal became aware the flesh trapped in his tightly clenched fingers had turned white. He relaxed his grip on her hips, turning his attention on her breasts instead. The warm flesh that bunched deliciously between his fingers, not to mention the way her body arched into him automatically whenever he squeezed, were pleasures Renathal had not grown tired of. He lowered his mouth to one of her dark nipples, rolling it in between his sharp teeth, waiting for her high-pitched cry.
Because there was her to think of as well. Renathal knew he was not imagining the Maw Walker's responses were more subdued than usual. Little hums of pleasure instead of the breathless gasps and impossible-to-stifle cries to which he had become so addicted. She was a surprisingly vocal lover considering how implacable she was in all other situations. But tonight.... as Renathal let his fangs graze that perfect hardened bud, he could tell her noise was less robust than it was the last time he had done this, her body still languid against the bed instead of taut and responsive to his every touch.
Which was more than merely embarrassing; it was worrisome. If this - whatever it was between them - stopped being enjoyable for her...
Renathal grimaced as he released her nipple and leaned up to bathe his strangely quiet lover's neck and jaw in sharp, desperate kisses. And what was this between them, anyway? That was another of the many dilemmas troubling Renathal at present. He had not found the right occasion to broach that conversation yet. And if he did not step up his performance it was likely he never would. The ever-busy Maw Walker would find an excuse to bow out of their stolen moments together. Courteously, of course, but no less painfully for him. And the thought of losing this... whatever it was... made him feel almost as mad as he had in the Maw.
Which meant he had to do it right. Renathal's lips finally reached hers and he clung to them like a font of anima, but even her tongue tracing his fangs could not reignite what was fading in his body. His mind raced frantically, searching for something new, something he had not tried. He had planned this whole evening down to the last atmospherically-placed red candle, and everything had gone as smooth as glass.  Why wasn't it enough?
The thrust of her hips meeting his petered out, and Renathal knew he had failed. Again. The way he had failed against Denathrius, failed to protect his fellow Venthyr, failed his entire charge to the Shadowlands as Harvester of Dominion to keep those in his realm from betraying their purpose. Was there nothing he could do correctly?
The Maw Walker's knees locked around his hips, and Renathal knew what was coming. He let her flip him, moved with her as she guided him back to the bed and sat gently astride him. He closed his eyes to avoid seeing the look on her face. Disappointment, or pity; or that look she wore before a fight or at court, like she was fitting together pieces of a puzzle; analyzing what was wrong so she could make it right.
Just once, thought Renathal bitterly, he would like to be the one solving the problem, saving the day. Saving her. But she never needed it. She, unlike him, always succeeded at everything she did.
The Maw Walker's hand caressed the side of his face, her thumb stroking the sharp angle of his cheekbone, but she still did not speak. It was not comfortable like their usual silences. It was a silence that held expectation, and Renathal disliked it.
"I fear I am a bit preoccupied tonight," he said, trying for casual chagrin.
"With what?"
The Maw Walker's voice betrayed nothing, and Renathal sighed. He suddenly felt exhausted.
"Oh, merely... everything."
"I see," she said slowly. Her fingers crept up his forehead, nails lightly scratching his scalp as she ran her hands back through his hair. "Were you planning on using this time to solve every one of Revendreth's problems and I interrupted?"
Renathal gave a short huff of mirthless laughter and finally opened his eyes to look at Revendreth's champion.
Sure enough, the Maw Walker's face was back to smoothly impassive, a small smile at her own joke the only expression. Nothing to indicate what she had been doing only minutes ago, except a small patch of color left in her cheeks. 
"How do you do it?" murmured Renathal, her hand combing through his long hair lulling him into a trance.
Her eyes widened slightly.
"Do what?"
"One minute, you are ... the Maw Walker! Saviour of the Shadowlands. Un-killable, indomitable. And the next ... you are in here with me..." Renathal felt anima rush to his groin again, and his voice came out lower. "So yielding ... so submissive.  Begging me to take you without a trace of pride."
The little shudder that ran through the Maw Walker at his words made her squirm against him, and Renathal heartened. He still seemed to have some effect on her; that was a good sign. If he could just concentrate, focus on being here with her and not on the hundred and one problems he somehow had to solve. Renathal attempted to flip his lover over, ready to try again, but she held his hips in place with her knees. He let himself fall back against the bed, lifting an eyebrow at her. Not that he could not have forced her over easily if he tried; not that she would have minded, he was certain. But the Maw Walker had never stopped him doing anything before, and Renathal was apprehensive about what that meant.
"Do you trust me?" she asked. Her hand had left its hypnotic stroking of his hair and now traced his jutting collarbone with a gentle nail.
Renathal gazed up at her, infusing the word with all the sincerity it deserved. "Entirely."
She smiled at that; a true smile, warm and glowing. He thought it was what moonlight must look like.
"Then close your eyes."
It was a soft command, left open for him to decline. But Renathal did as she bid him.
The Maw Walker leaned over him; he could feel her hair tickling the side of his face. Her lips met his just for a moment before ghosting over his jaw, then down his throat, pausing to nip at his cold skin along the way. Each tiny attempt at a bite she graced with a precious kiss or a small, sweet lap of her tongue. It was nothing dramatic, nothing she had not done before. But Renathal thought it felt somehow ... different, more sensational, this time. Maybe because he could not see, only feel. Or maybe because the Maw Walker was gentler than usual, almost tantalisingly so.
She reached his chest, her tongue and teeth working in tandem, leaving little ghosts of kisses beside her blunt-toothed mortal bites. Eyes still closed as she had commanded, Renathal reached out his hands for her, caressing the soft planes of her shoulders, enjoying the warm, smooth skin.
Until her hands took his, firmly, and tugged them away. Renathal's eyes shot open.
The Maw Walker made a noise of disapproval and shook her head. She dragged his hands up over his head the way he had pinned hers often before. Only her hands were so small it took only one of his to hold both her wrists. He wondered in amusement how she planned to keep him there, then winced at an unexpected prickle of freezing cold.
It was not painful, only surprising. As an Arcanist, the Maw Walker rarely used frost magic, though Renathal knew she was capable; and she had certainly never used magic on him when they were together like this. But, as he tried to separate his hands from each other and met resistance, there could be no doubt: the Maw Walker had frozen his hands together to the top of the bed.
She met his shocked gaze, hers full of laughter and lust, and whispered against his open mouth, “No hands. Stay still."
Her little orders chafed against Renathal's need for control, and he could not decide if the friction was unpleasant. He flexed his fingers experimentally, but they were held fast enough to prevent his fists closing. Trust in his Maw Walker notwithstanding, Renathal had a few choice words he would like to say to her about this, but she had re-positioned herself already, crawling back down his chest, and tracing the muscles of his abdomen with her lips and tongue. He did not know if his shiver was from her attentions or her ice.
The Maw Walker took her time tasting every inch of his cold skin before sliding in between his legs. This, too, she had done this before - a memory Renathal particularly enjoyed revisiting - and he waited breathlessly for that wet heat to devour him. But the Maw Walker turned her head, continuing her stream of slow, heavy kisses down his thigh instead.
Never had Renathal thought he would dislike a kiss from his Maw Walker, but her mouth was decidedly not where he wanted it. He thrust his hips in a gentle reminder of what she was neglecting, but she acted as though she did not notice - or did not care. He waited in growing impatience as she finished her slow ministrations - first on one side, then the other - and Renathal was sure she was letting her hair brush against his cock on purpose just to torture him. He had never known the Maw Walker to have such a cruel streak. Perhaps she had spent too much time in Revendreth, he thought bemusedly.
When her lips finally skimmed the tip of his dripping cock, a deep groan escaped Renathal without his consent. The Maw Walker lifted her head and met his eyes. She let the little drops of red anima linger wetly on her mouth before licking her lips, and Renathal decided he was ready for the torture to end. Every fiber of his being was quivering with anticipation; waiting for her to descend, to swallow him into that perfect mouth. But the Maw Walker did not move. She hesitated above him, the tip of his cock just under her chin, and his hips twitched, instinctively trying to get closer.
Renathal could not fathom what the Maw Walker's plan was. If she was waiting for him to beg her, she had misunderstood him greatly.
“Maw Walker," he said hoarsely, the syllables all rough edges. "Attend your prince."
There was a hint of threat in the half-sarcastic words. It made the Maw Walker smile; a wicked thing that crept slowly up the sides of her face. She dipped her head as if to comply, but merely trailed more faux-innocent kisses down the side of his cock. Renathal's teeth ground together at the feeling - so good and so inadequate - until, at last, her lips parted and she let her tongue gently lave at his shaft.
The Maw Walker worked her mouth down until she ran out of length and just kept going, her lips and tongue doing all the work while her hands pressed gently against his thighs to hold him still. Her fingers traced delicate patterns on his jutting hip bones as she continued to lap at him languidly. Another time, Renathal might have had more patience for her teasing, but he was full to bursting with frustration, and her refusal to do what he wanted or be where he needed her so furiously was wearing on him.
He called her name this time, his voice a warning growl. The Maw Walker merely hummed against him, then pulled away entirely.
Tossing her hair behind her, she slid backwards to the edge of the bed, out of Renathal's reach. Ignoring his low notes of protest, she sat back on her heels, long legs spread, giving Renathal a glorious view of every dusky purple inch of her. The distraction momentarily took his superfluous breath away. Her hands abandoned his body in favor of her own, her fingers spreading and rubbing gently, exactly where he so desperately wanted to be. And desperation boiled Renathal's anima.
Was that her plan? To tease him until he wept? To deny him until he lost his mind entirely? This was an exercise in trust, Renathal supposed, and he did trust the Maw Walker, implicitly; but, at the moment, he was not sure he agreed with her.
Renathal clenched his hands against the ice of her spell and felt something crack. Water was dripping down his wrists, the magic obviously weakening without her concentration. He could wiggle the tips of his fingers, but still not quite free his hand.
"It would be best… not to try my patience, Maw Walker."
Any Venthyr would have cowered under the undisguised menace in the Dark Prince's voice. But the Maw Walker ignored him. She was no longer even looking at him. Her eyes closed, she leaned back and canted her hips toward her own fingers. Renathal knew she could not possibly get them as deep as she preferred, but she still sighed as if in pleasure. Her other hand now circled her own nipple exactly where Renathal's mouth had been earlier, and he growled again, the frustration beginning to eat him alive.
The Maw Walker had never denied him anything. He trusted her with his very existence. And now, when Renathal needed her most, she would simply tease and tease and give him nothing. He no longer knew if the fire in his body was desire or rage, no longer knew what he would do to her once he got his hands on her.
Renathal said her name again, and every decibel of his voice held the echo of dominion.
"Come to me.”
Renathal might not have a medallion any longer, but he still possessed eons of power, and even the Maw Walker could not ignore his direct command entirely. She opened her blue-white eyes, dark with desire and sparkling with mischief.
"Come and take me, Prince of Revendreth."
Whether her husky whisper contained the power to release her spell or to simply snap the last of his self-control, Renathal could not tell. Because as soon as he flexed his hands a final time and felt the ice shatter, he stopped thinking of anything at all except launching himself onto his Maw Walker.
His hands were wet and freezing, but Renathal had no thought to spare for how that might feel to her skin. He dragged her to him, nails scraping against whatever parts of the Maw Walker they found first, but the feel of soft, warm flesh was not enough to bring any sort of balm to his body's furiously-coursing fire. It was an entity of its own now, beyond his ability to stifle, and it demanded everything.
Renathal yanked her legs out from under her and the Maw Walker fell backwards, her head hitting the edge of the bed with an audible thump, her dark waterfall of hair spilling over the side. Some far distant part of Renathal worried about that, but worry of any kind had no hold over him anymore. He had thought he knew need for the Maw Walker, but this was a new thing entirely. He was a creature driven by absolute necessity without thought for anything but its satisfaction.
Gripping her thighs in a vice, Renathal spread her legs and, at last, drove himself inside her, reveling in the way the Maw Walker moaned his name: a husky, broken surrender. He leaned over her to watch her face as he thrust - in and out, in and out - a slow rhythm intended to punish her teasing, but he could not maintain it for long. That unbearable heat in his core was Renathal's only compass. It guided him deeper into the Maw Walker, setting a pace to match the crescendo of her cries; now keening wails, as he bent her legs over her shoulders, leaning in to tug at her lips with his fangs.
It was barely a kiss, more a capture, and through it Renathal's amber eyes burned into hers, wide and yearning. Every single part of the Maw Walker was his, and she would know it.
"You think to undo me?" Renathal barely recognised the heavy, throaty rumble as his own voice. "Mine is dominion. And you are my domain."
The Maw Walker's voice in return was all breathy ecstasy, the only time Renathal ever heard it pitched so high. And he was the cause. That sent more anima to his groin, and he tilted her hips further to reach still deeper, her accompanying cries full of words he could barely interpret.
"Yes yes yes my prince take it it's all yours.”
Words failed Renathal. Coherent thought abandoned him. He could only pound the Maw Walker into - and nearly off of - the bed. Take. He would take. He would take everything she had to give him, and then more. He would use every inch of her, and she would worship him for it. Renathal could feel her clench around him, her body begging him for his essence, and he, her Prince, would oblige.
His climax hit him all in a rush. Its momentum ripped a guttural sound from Renathal he could not control, could barely hear over the thudding of anima in his ears. This was right. This was perfect. This was bliss. He continued to thrust as he savoured the feeling of spilling into his Maw Walker, the instinct to give her everything, all of him, pounding like a heartbeat through his body.
It was a few minutes before Renathal was aware of himself again. He suddenly realised his forehead was crushed against the Maw Walker's, the little whimpering notes of her comedown blowing strands of hair across his face. He groaned, and took stock of his body. His legs shook slightly from the awkward position. His fingers ached for some reason, but he had to look at them to realise he was gripping the Maw Walker's calves so tightly her mortal bones might break. Retracting his nails from her flesh, he watched drops of red blood fall where he had gouged an unwitting tattoo. The sight of the viscous liquid shocked Renathal back into conscious, rational thought.
He sat up, letting the Maw Walker's legs fall to the bed, inspecting her where she lay. Her arms dangled off the bed behind her, her hair a sweaty, tangled mess; her chest rose and fell rapidly and Renathal's own anima leaked from between her splayed legs. He knew he ought to feel some shame at reducing the Maw Walker to this. But that primal part of him she had freed reared its head in satisfaction at the sight of her so utterly used. By him.
The Maw Walker's eyelids fluttered open, head turning slowly to search for him. She met Renathal's apprehensive gaze. Apparently not ready for words, she could only hum contentedly. But for once, she seemed unable to stop emotion invading her face, and she glowed with adoration at him.
Renathal relaxed. The injuries on her legs notwithstanding, the Maw Walker did not seem in any particular discomfort. Quite the contrary. She smiled gingerly and stretched out a hand for him, not quite able to reach his body without moving which she showed no inclination to do. Renathal contemplated relocating them both to a better position on the bed, agreed it would be too much effort, and let himself collapse beside her.
The Maw Walker stroked a hand lazily along Renathal's face, then into his hair, the better to tug him to her lips without lifting her head. Her kiss was a messy, clumsy thing that spilled across his mouth and into his goatee.
"Feel better?" asked the Maw Walker when she finally broke for air.
Renathal imagined his smile must be a mirror of her own as he ran his fingers through her tangled dark hair, pushing it out of her bliss-tinged eyes.
"As always, my dear, you have the solution to every dilemma."
She laughed at that, and leaned her body into his. The way her hips arched longingly against Renathal's brought an uncomfortable thought to his mind.
"Did I - or rather, did you-"
"Yes," she interrupted firmly. "And yes. And yes."
It was Renathal's turn to chuckle softly. He let his arm trail down her back to grip the soft swell of her rear, molding the flesh between his fingers in absent pleasure. The Maw Walker shifted, giving him a better angle, and accidentally smearing the blood on her leg against the sheets. Renathal closed his eyes, repressing a wince, regret for his actions creeping closer now his need had abated.
"I am sorry. It was not my intention to hurt you. I fear I got a bit ... carried away."
"Well, I did provoke you rather terribly."
"That is no excuse."
"Renathal," and the gentle way the Maw Walker said his name made him open his eyes. “I ... appreciate your concern for me. But ... you cannot hurt me.” She put a finger to Renathal's lips to stop his protest. “You can’t. I don’t think there’s anything you could do to me that I would not want. And if there was, I wouldn't allow it. You must stop thinking I can’t handle all of you.”
The Maw Walker wet her lips, speaking slowly as if her words weighed down her tongue. "You are an ... extraordinary leader, Renathal. Your control over yourself - over everything - is … astounding to me. And you will need every ounce of that to succeed in this rebellion, but ..." She propped herself up on her arm to lean over him, looking at every part of Renathal's face but his eyes. “When it’s just us ... you don’t have to hold yourself in check. I can take you entirely as you are.”
She placed a soft kiss on his forehead and leaned back, examining her handiwork: Renathal's slightly dazed face and unfocused eyes as her exquisite words washed over him. Apparently satisfied, the Maw Walker let her head fall back against the bed.
“That’s the answer to your question, by the way.”
Renathal had to wrack his overwhelmed brain to remember his earlier bemused query. 
“Out there, I am the Maw Walker," she continued, pronouncing the moniker with a wry twist of her lips. "I am ... what everybody needs me to be. Powerful, or decisive, or indomitable, as you say. But here with you..." The Maw Walker sighed deeply, smiling up at the ceiling. "I can be ... the other part of me. That doesn't want to make all the decisions or solve everyone's problems. That just wants to ... receive."
She let her voice trail off, her confession clearly exhausting her. Renathal, on the other hand, could feel himself rising again. Anima pumped through him in a hot and powerful thrum. Had the Maw Walker ever been so willingly open and vulnerable with him? He could not recall it if she had. And to hear her secrets, to know this was a part of her only he could have...
Renathal reached for the Maw Walker's face, rubbing the long nail of his thumb across her lips. Obediently, they parted, and he let her lave his finger briefly, before leaning in and replacing it with his mouth. This kiss was one of dominion, deep and slow and possessive, a survey of an estate now his. 
"I trust you with myself," the Maw Walker murmured against his lips, when Renathal paused to allow her a breath. "And I don't trust very many. Trust me. With you. With this."
She wound her fingers into the strands of his long, pale hair and let her eyes travel the length of his body languidly.
"With this?" Renathal flattened himself against her, grinding his naked cock against her thigh, and she moaned, "Yes..."
"Can you take more?"
His words were a low purr against her ear, and it worked on the Maw Walker like magic. With a sharp gasp, she arched against him, her body seeking his on instinct.
"Yes more please!”
Her whimpered words were quick and breathless; her hands, soft and powerful, clutched at his back, trying to force him more fully against her. But Renathal evaded the Maw Walker's scrabbling nails. He sat up, noticing as he did so how much lighter he felt than when he had first been astride her. He was not sure exactly how much time had passed since the Maw Walker arrived in his rooms; it could not have been more than an hour, but it felt like a different age. Sitting up straighter, cracking his neck, a satisfied smile curled past Renathal's fangs. This was the most like himself - like a Harvester; like the Prince - he had felt since before the Maw.
Beneath him, his Maw Walker squirmed in a restless attempt to gain more friction, and Renathal's laugh was soft and wicked.
"So greedy, Maw Walker."
“Mmm... I confess," was her coy reply.
And if she could still joke, thought Renathal smugly, then she was not nearly desperate enough.
"I am willing to forgive you for your, admittedly, exquisite torture,” he said, abruptly adopting a formal tone of address that made the Maw Walker blink in surprise. “But binding me without my consent…” Renathal clicked his tongue. "Too far. I believe some small... atonement is in order." 
He trailed a long claw-like nail from the hollow of her throat to the dusky skin between her heaving breasts, leaving the faintest of visible scratches and making the Maw Walker gasp again. Renathal's smirk was comfortable on his face as he bent down to murmur against her lips:
"Let us begin.”
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Read Part 3: An Ember Court to Remember | Visit the Masterpost
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reiderwriter · 7 months
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Show You What Devotion Is ❤️‍🔥
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Pairing: Spencer Reid x Female Reader
Genre: SMUT, fluff, MINORS DNI 18+
Word count:..... 12k...
Summary: After a lustful encounter on the jet, you and Spencer decide to try out a friends-with-benefits relationship. What you didn't expect was for his sex drive to be so high, and your need for him to lead you to his bed every night of the week.
Warnings: So many 💀, oral (M and F receiving), public sex multiple times, multiple creampies, protection never mentioned, fingering, car sex, alcohol consumption, pet names, degradation, sir kink I think at some point, choking, mentions of spit and other bodily fluids, I'm sure there are more, too.
A/N: Well. Here it is. Big thank you to Jungkook for releasing the song that gave me this fic idea that I was fully convinced was just going to be a nice little song about the number seven. Here's my masterlist, and my requests and asks are open if you want to shout at me for writing 12,000 words of filth! Settle down somewhere comfy for this one 💀 Song inspo:
Monday
The jet was calm and quiet with just the two of you on it as you stretched yourself out over the seats, desperate to find a comfortable position to curl up in and find some sleep. You had been out the entire weekend on a death-row interview, and after three days of dealing with high security prison inmates and their guards, you were feeling a bit restless. You hated the feeling of being cooped up in there, even if you knew you’d be getting out eventually.
You were just thankful that they’d sent you in the jet, because you sure as hell couldn’t imagine driving back right now. And as your only company was Reid, who wasn’t a fan of driving himself, especially over such long distances, it would have been a crappy end to an even crappier weekend. You looked up at the man now, and realised he was also trying his best to fall asleep, but he had a tense look on his face, and he was shifting in his seat, unable to get comfortable.
“Can’t sleep either?” you asked him, finally accepting that you probably weren’t going to get any relief any time soon. His eyes shot open, and he looked at you, finally registering that it was you that had spoken to him and not some figment of his imagination.
“Something like that, yeah,” he said, and looked away, letting the silence fall over you again.
“Do you want to maybe play cards or something?” you asked hopefully, desperate to find something to do for the last hour of your flight. From everything you’d learned about the man opposite you in your six months as a member of the BAU, you knew it probably wasn’t a good idea challenging him. But between being absolutely destroyed at cards and being caught in the discomfort of exhaustion with no ability to sleep, you’d choose the card games any day.
Besides, you could do with learning a little bit more about your coworker anyway. Despite earning your place on the team, and befriending most of the others pretty easily, Reid had always seemed a bit standoffish to you. He was always polite, of course, but the others had warned you that he didn’t take well to change, and your addition to the team was a pretty notable change in your team dynamic.
You were now the youngest member of the team, and you’d been trained in press liaising as a part of your training at the academy, so you took on a different role from the others to allow JJ to get out into the field more now that she was officially an agent. It wasn’t that you thought he disliked you, it was just that he needed to get used to you. Or at least that was what you were telling yourself.
It was why you were on the jet in the first palace, having asked Hotch for the opportunity to shadow Reid while he was working on the interview. He’d given you a look when you lied that it was to gain more experience, but he didn’t have anything against you trying to get Reid to warm up to you a little bit more, so he didn’t complain, and let the two of you go. But you hadn’t realised just how busy you would be with the work, and you hadn’t exactly become the best of friends either.
“You don’t want to play cards with me, Y/N,” he replied coolly, not even looking at you.
“Emily said you usually try to swindle people when you first play cards with them, why aren’t you trying that with me?” you asked, growing a little frustrated that your attempts were being blocked. It’d been the same when you’d invited him out for a drink the night before, and when you’d asked if he wanted to share a takeout in your hotel room the night before that. Polite rejections and the feeling of incompetence that left you wondering if you’d done something wrong.
“You’re too innocent for me to swindle, Y/N. It’d be too easy.”
“That’s pretty arrogant, don’t you think?” As a last ditch attempt to get him to bite, you thought insulting him couldn’t possibly hurt.
“Shit, okay, one game, the cards are in the cupboard over there.” He acquiesced and nodded behind him to the small kitchenette at the end of the jet.
“Why do I have to grab them, you’re closer?” you pouted a little bit, and he shifted uncomfortably in his seat, looking away again.
“You’re the one who wanted to play,” he grumbled. Rolling your eyes you threw off the blanket you’d wrapped around yourself and stumbled over to grab the cards.
On your way back however, the plane lurched to the side and you stumbled, dropping the cards everywhere and falling straight into the lap of Doctor Spencer Reid. He tried to catch you in his arms, but you’re position made it difficult for him to help you further. Having fallen face first, your torso was now pressed into the seat next to him, the rest of your body bent over his knee as if he were getting ready to spank you any minute.
One of his hands was pinned under your body weight, and the other that had come out to steady you was gripping dangerously close to your chest, not exactly helping with the mental images you were already fighting.
“Shit, I’m sorry I think we hit some turbulence,” you winced and tried to standup, and he groaned at the loss of contact as you moved.
“Fuck, Y/N,” he let out the curse as you stood up, but you weren’t upright for long before your legs gave out underneath you, another lurch from the plane depositing you directly into his lap, your legs straddling either side of his and your chest pressed up against his. This closer position allowed you to feel more of him pressed against you, and your eyes widened in realisation.
“Fuck, Spencer are you hard right now?” You groaned from on top of him, stilled by the realisaton. He scowled at you, again, and ran a hand through his hair.
“Sorry, it’s just been a long weekend, and I couldn’t…” he let out a frustrated sigh and you waited for him to continue, suddenly not so eager to get out of the embarrassing position.
“Have you been hard this entire time? Shit, that’s why you didn’t want to grab the playing cards, didn’t want me to see you like that, right?” you could hear the grin in your voice, and you knew you were being risky but you couldn’t help yourself.
“Shut up, Y/L/N, I really don’t need this right now,” he groaned out again, but made no move to push you off.
“Oh, I’m pretty sure I know what you need right now.”
“Don’t fucking tease, Y/N, I’m serious. Let’s just pretend that this never happened, okay?” His mouth was saying one thing, but you were pretty sure from the hands that were gripping your hips now that he wasn’t exactly being the most honest with himself in that moment.
“What if I…. helped you out?” you whispered it out almost silently, and Reid’s eyes snapped open to look at you.
“Don’t joke with me right now, Y/N, it isn’t funny and it isn’t cute.”
“I’m not joking.” Your eyes locked and you didn’t say anything else, content to watch him wage a war in his own mind, curious about which side would win.
“Get on your knees,” he said eventually, and you did, climbing out of his lap and kneeling next to his seat, your heart-beating out of your chest now. “Good girl.”
The heat pooled between your legs with those words, and you let out a small whimper as he popped the button on his pants. He pulled out his dick and you stared at it in wonder. You could see the precum shining on his tip as he gave it a few preliminary pumps, his mouth open as he finally found some relief.
You slid your hands up his legs and rested them on his thighs, watching his face and ready to pounce on him the moment he gave you the word.
“Look at you, desperate little whore. You want to suck me off that bad, baby?” he crooned at you, and you found yourself unable to answer.
“Bet you’ve been trying to do this all weekend. Trying to get me back to that hotel room of yours, trying to get me to drink with you, when what you really wanted was for me to stuff my cock down your throat, right?”
It was taking all of your willpower to not just reach your tongue out and lick your way up his shaft, now, your body practically begging for you to touch him.
“Well, go ahead princess. Go ahead and show me what a needy little whore you are.” You waited for no further instruction, wrapping your hand around the base of his cock and your tongue around the tip.
You played with it for a few seconds, giving him a few strokes while you waited to see his reactions. He grabbed a fist of your hair, making sure to push it away from your face so he could see exactly what you were doing at all times. With that, you started pushing your head down on more and more of him, seeing how far you could manage to get before hitting the back of your throat.
When you hit your max, you pulled off of him and did it again, starting to pick up pace as you worked your hands over the few inches that couldnt fit.
“Fuck that’s it, princess, just like that.” He moaned, not taking his eyes off you for even a second.
You bobbed your head up and down on him now, feeling yourself grow wetter and wetter with each noise he let out.
“Sucking me off right here on the jet, such a little slut, aren’t you?” he said down at you and you couldn’t help the moan you let out around his cock, the vibrations causing him to tighten his grip on your hair and hiss out a curse.
“That’s it keep going, just like that baby,” he whispered, his hand now starting to push you down a little further on his dick each time, his head thrown back in ecstasy. You knew he was getting close, and you were desperate to feel his cum down your throat.
“Fuck, yes, just like that baby, just like that keep going.” The muscles in his legs were tense under your hand as you pushed your head down right to the base of his cock, stretching yourself past your limits and breathing him in deeply. After that, it was only a few more seconds until you could feel the hot spurts of cum hit the back of your throat.
You looked up at him through his orgasm, and you swore it was the best view you’d seen before in your life. His mouth was open in a moan, and the hand that wasn’t controlling your movements was raked through his own tousled locks.
Eventually, he pulled you off of him, and you swallowed the remaining cum still inside your mouth, going as far as to catch the few drops spilling out with your fingertips and delicately lick it off, knowing he was back to watching your every move.
He pulled you up to a standing position, his eyes still locked on yours, and you could see he was getting ready to give you another instruction, to use you again to find his own pleasure. Before he had the chance though, an announcement on the PA system had him jumping as far away from you as possible.
“Hey, sorry about that earlier turbulence folks. We’re about ten minutes out of Quantico, so we’re about to descend. You know the drill, seatbelts, please.” The pilot was off the line as quickly as he came on it, and you were left in silence once more.
Fumbling with his pants, Reid put himself together again before guiding you into your seat and taking up his place again in the seat opposite.
“I didn’t mean for it to end like this, shit we don’t have time for me to return the favor…” he seemed apologetic about that and you were finally snapped out of your daze.
“Reid, you really don’t have to do that… I just helped you out a little, is all.”
“No, I’m going to pay you back for this. I swear.” And there it was again, the pounding of your heart as he looked at you like that. You unintentionally clenched around nothing, your frustration almost doubling knowing there could’ve been more if you’d had more time.
“Feel free to say no, of course, but how do you feel about making this a regular thing?” you asked, your voice low, trying not to reveal how desperate you were to be under him right now, certain it would put him off.
“Like a… friends with benefits, thing?” He asked, his head perking up in curiosity.
“Yeah. If you want.” You gulped down. “Obviously, you can say no. We’re coworkers, so it could become weird, but it could also be really convenient to have someone on cases to help you out if you’re ever, you know…”
“Y/N, you’re rambling,” he smiled at you.
“I know, I really want you to say yes,” you admitted then immediately cursed your lack of filter.
“Yes.” He said. And that was that.
Tuesday
To say that stepping off of the jet had bought you back down to reality would be an understatement. After parting from Spencer with a terse wave and a strained smile, you’d spent your entire commute home thinking you’d just fucked up in the most major way possible.
As far as you could tell, the man didn’t even like being in your company and was just okay with you being his coworker, and then you’d suggested you give him a blow job on government property? Yeah, you were insane. That was the only possible explanation.
Needless to say, you got no sleep that night. You could only imagine how shitty you looked dragging yourself into the bullpen the next morning, coffee in hand and twitching like a rabbit that knew it was being followed by a wolf.
“God, Y/N, you look like you’ve been through hell and back. I thought you and Reid only went for an inmate interview?” Emily questioned you as soon as you stepped through the door.
“Yeah, yeah, it was okay,” you squeaked out, not quite adept at hiding your emotions just yet. “I just didn’t get much sleep is all. Shitty hotel beds, you know?” You smiled at her, and she nodded from experience.
“Oh, tell me about it, this one time I was sharing a room with JJ and the metal springs in the mattress we’re just sticking out the top. It’s a miracle these places make any money.”
“Well, they always have FBI Agents blasting through desperate for a room, I guess,” you joked with her half-heartedly, still feeling the tension in the room.
“What are you guys talking about?” He creeps up behind you to join the conversation, but you know it’s him. You turn around and finally get a look at him. Reid stood there, looking relaxed, with a small smirk on his face. His hands in his pants pockets, leaned back against Emily’s desk next to his, effectively cutting off your route to your own desk behind him.
“Y/N was telling me about the crappy motel you guys got lumped in this weekend. Bummer right?”
“I don’t know, I slept just fine. You do look a little tense, Y/N,” he looked at you again, and you couldn’t help the glare you shot at him. He was messing with you. The fucker was actually messing with you.
“I must’ve just pulled the short straw.” You send him a strained smile, trying to end the conversation there.
“You should’ve said something about it on the jet, I would’ve let you rest instead.” You freeze then. Surely he wasn’t going to reveal to the entire office, or at least to Emily, what the two of you did on the jet.
“You didn’t have to play cards with me, you know. I know how exhausting it can be to keep up with me. I have pretty good stamina.” This time you didn’t hold back and you did shoot daggers at him, which only achieved bringing him one step closer to laughter.
“Ooh, rookie mistake. Don’t play with Reid, Y/N, he’ll take you for all you’re worth.” Emily shot back before making her way to the kitchen area, content with the advice she had given.
“Yeah, I’ll keep that in mind.” You mumbled, eyes still locked with Reid’s as you made to push past him. His hand brushed yours as you did, and you almost jumped at the contact. God, why was he doing this to you. Up until yesterday, he hadn’t ever bothered to even look in your direction, and now he was making you dizzy at work and you didn’t know how to deal with it.
The rest of the day you did your best to ignore him, and you really had to try. Everytime you went to grab yourself another drink, he’d trail along behind you, leaving you to make a U-turn to ask Morgan or Prentiss questions instead. If you went to get some files, he’d do the same, and you found yourself grabbing the wrong files in your haste to avoid talking to him again.
It was a ridiculous game of cat and mouse, and you knew that eventually he would catch up to you, and then you would have to come face to face with the man who had consumed your thoughts for the last 24 hours. In all honesty, you weren’t sure if it was dread you were feeling or anticipation.
In the end, he resorted to a more direct method that you couldn’t ignore.
“Hey, Y/N, I need to discuss some of the files from this weekends interview, do you have five minutes?” he said it loud enough for those around you to hear, so there was no escape. You took a deep breath and acquiesced,
“Great, let’s go grab the files and we can get started.” From all your self-defence training, you knew you should never let your assailant get you to a secondary location, but with him, you knew there was no escape. You let him guide you to the storage room, not even bothering to make small talk on the way down.
The door wasn’t even closed before he turned on you and started talking.
“If yesterday was bad for you, then we don’t have to ever do it again, but if you keep ignoring me like that, they’re going to realise that something is wrong.”
“Take a second to think about why I’m ignoring you, Reid. You’ve practically been on top of me all day, I can’t think when you’re around and I have work to do,” you whisper shout at him, even though theres no one in the file room he’s pulled you into.
“I wasn’t on top of you, I’d have enjoyed it very much had I been on top of you. Instead, I’ve been trailing behind you because you won’t talk to me.” He replied, shoulders lifting to his ears in his defense.
“Do you not want to do this anymore?” he asked you and you took in a sharp inhale of breath. He was giving you an out. You logically knew that you should take it, push down whatever it was you were feeling and pretend like yesterday had never happened. But all thoughts of doing just that left your head as he moved one step closer to you.
“Spencer…” you whispered into the room, as he moved closer still, eventually coming to cage you in against the wall.
“Do you really not want me to repay you?” he moved his hands down your body, a ghost of a touch really, not at all enough for what you wanted and getting nowhere near where you needed.
“Spencer, we shouldn’t be doing this at work. What if someone comes down here?”
“Doing what? I’m just asking you a question.” He gripped your thighs and pulled you again him, and you could feel the length of him against your stomach. “And besides, that didn’t matter to you yesterday.”
“Fuck, Spencer…” you groaned out, screwing your eyes shut. He trailed his hands further still and they finally found your ass over your skirt.
“I felt just as unsure about this earlier, you know. Thought it was going to create a weird tension in the office. Then you walked in this morning, wearing this skirt and suddenly I didn’t care. Just needed to have you.” He pulls your leg up, pressing his in between your thighs before you can think of closing your legs in modesty.
“I just want to feel you, will you let me do that?” He whispers against your skin and you whimper as his lips ghost over you.
“Yes, yes Spencer, please…” your brain shuts off and you give in, and suddenly he has your skirt around your waist and you tights and panties aorund your ankles in what seems like only a flash of a second.
“So fucking perfect and obedient for me, aren’t you, pet?” You whimper as he trails a finger along your sensitive clit, and you twitch as he begins his movements, rubbing slow circles into you.
“Fuck, look at you, clenching around nothing. I was just going to come in here and make you cum on my fingers but you’re begging to be filled, aren’t you, Princess?” He murmurs finally pushing on finger into you as he continues to to rub your clit with his thumb. You bury your head into his shoulder and try your best to muffle the disgusting moans dripping from your mouth as you plead with your coworker.
“What was that, pet? You’re going to have to say it a bit louder, I can’t hear you?” He picks up his pace and you can feel the tears welling up in your eyes, threatening to spill down your face.
“Fuck me. Please, Reid.” Not removing his hand from between your legs, he unbuttons his pants and you see his cock again for the second time in two days. You can’t believe you managed to get the entire thing down your throat yesterday. You stare at him with lust-clouded eyes, begging him silently.
“I haven’t got a condom, princess. Are you on the pill?” He asks, giving himself a few terse strokes, too far from your reach to help out. You nod vigorously, unable to form actual words now and not trusting yourself to keep quiet as your anticipation builds.
“Perfect baby, now relax and I’ll take care of you, okay?” He gently pulled his hand away from your core, quickly replacing it with his pulsating cock, pushing in slowly and deep.
“So tight for me, baby, you feel amazing.” He pauses for a second to allow you to adjust to his size, but all too soon he’s hammering into you, not caring to control his speed or his strength, just using you like he’s a man delirious with lust and you love it.
You clutch his shirt, and with each and every thrust you scream a little bit, unable to hold yourself back from the pleasure thats ripping through you. You’re making so much noise that after a few minutes, he brings a hand to your mouth, closing it over you and effectively cutting off any noises you make from escaping.
“You need to be quiet, honey, as much as I want to hear you, we don’t need anyone to come around here asking questions.” But you’re too far gone to care, your judgement too clouded, your head and body too full of him and what he’s doing to you to care at all who knows about it. You know he’s right, but you just keep moaning into his hand until finally, your body can’t take the stimulation anymore and you feel yourself tip over the edge, tightening around him as you ride out your high.
“Fuck, that’s it princess, I’m gonna cum inside you, okay?” He says and you use what feels like the last of your strength to nod as you feel him shoot his load inside of you.
You don’t know how long the two of you stay joined there, but the post-sex clarity hits you like a tonne of bricks again as he pulls out and you genuinely start questioning your sanity as he cleans you up and pulls your panties back up into the right position.
“Shit Spencer, we can’t do that again,” you say. “What if someone had caught us?”
“Don’t say that as if you weren’t just turned on by the very thought of that happening,” he shot back. “But yes, we’re going to need some rules if we’re going to keep this up.” You nod at him, and the two of you make for the exit of the room, aware that you’d already been away for suspiciously long.
Luckily, your teammates are all too busy to notice that neither of you return with the files you went to look for.
Wednesday
The knock at your door was sharp and insistent, but you were tired so it took you a few minutes to cross your apartment to reach the door. You weren’t sure what you were expecting to greet you there at 9pm on a wednesday evening, but it sure as hell wasn’t Spencer Reid, looking a little damp from the rain.
“I’m glad you’re home. I thought you would be considering you told Penelope you had no plans when you left earlier, but there was always the possibility that you wouldn’t be and then I would be stuck out here in the rain again and I wouldn’t get to see you and I really needed to see you.” He got the jumble of words out as quickly as he could, not even leaving you enough time to say hello before he was rambling.
“Spencer, slow down. What are you doing here?” You asked, rubbing the sleep from your eyes. Truthfully, you’d spent the last half an hour doing your best not to fall asleep on your couch as you tried to get some reading in, so you weren't exactly the best prepared for guests. You’d rid yourself of your work clothes as soon as you reached your house, the discarded clothes still laying in a pile in your bedroom, and you’d changed into an oversized t-shirt you’d bought a few years ago that was becoming a bit threadbare with constant use.
“I thought we could talk.” He said and offered no further explanation. It was cold and you wrapped your arms around yourself, but the door was letting in the cold breeze that accompanied the rain so you moved aside and gestured for him to make himself at home.
He took stock of your apartment as he walked in and you felt so exposed as he started taking everything in. He was a profiler, a really good one at that, and he was looking now at your bookshelves, the pictures around your apartment, the little trinkets you’d collected over the years. You should have been squirming under the surveillance of it all, but you almost wanted to show him around, talk him through it all and show you every part of you that he hadn’t seen yet. God, you must’ve been crazy.
“So, what did you want to talk about?” you asked, returning to your seat on your couch and gesturing for Reid to sit down, too. He took up a chair on the opposite side of the room, sitting only on the edge of the seat, body tense and shoulders set in a tight line.
“Us. I thought it’d be best if we set some… ground rules you know. After yesterday and the jet…” you sat up then, too and tried not to avoid looking at the mirror you knew was on your shelf, knowing that all you’d see was the crimson staining your face and wondering what he would learn from that.
“Yeah… Yeah of course, we should talk about that. That sounds… smart, I think.”
“I did some research, and apparently we should start with setting boundaries. Things we won’t do, things that would make this easier for us.”
“Right, what kind of… boundaries were you thinking?” Your heart was beating out of your chest waiting for him to continue. The sex between you was so easy that you forgot that neither of you was the best at communicating with the other, that your brain seemed to switch off in his presence and refused to turn itself back on until you’d ended up underneath him.
“There are certain things I won’t do in the bedroom. I don’t like being choked and I don’t…” he trailed off, his face going bright red, “I don’t like not being in control.” He finally finished, looking very shy for a man who just admitted that he took an exclusively dominant role in the bedroom.
“That’s fine with me. Just for the sake of transparency, I’m okay with that. Choking that is. And not being dominant.” You tripped over your words, trying to convey your meaning.
“Great, that’s totally great.” You sat there in silence for a few seconds before he spoke again. “Is there anything you won’t do?”
“Oh right,” you thought about it for a few seconds and then gave him your reply. “As exciting as that was yesterday, I think we shouldn’t be doing that in the office again. I’m not… against public sex, but I’d prefer not to get arrested for public indecency by one of our colleagues.”
He nodded vigorously and looked like he was about to say something else, but you continued.
“Other than that, I’m pretty open. No threesomes though,” You blushed, trying to find the right words to use. “If we’re going to do this, I don’t really want to share you.”
“That’s a good point. We should be exclusive for however long we do this for. The increased risk of attaining a sexually transmitted disease when actively engaging with two or more sexual partners is around 11%, so it’d be safer for us both to just use each other.”
The way he said it was so clinical that you almost flinched, but he didn’t notice your reaction and kept going.
“Is that everything? No other objections?” You thought on his question for a few minutes, and then shook your head.
“Nothing I can think of, but maybe we should keep checking in? Just in case, you know.”
“Yeah, communication is really important in relationships.” He paused for a second, as if realising what he said. “Not that this is a relationship, in the traditional sense, but every human connection can be described as a relationship, so I guess this is a relationship as well. You know what I mean.” You laughed a little at him then, his over-explaination relaxing you a bit, glad you weren’t the only one who was finding this situation unavoidably awkward.
“Spencer, calm down, I understand. Is that all you wanted to discuss?” You look at him with a smile, crossing and uncrossing your legs on the couch, finally falling back into a comfortable position. His eyes trailed down to your legs then, finally taking in your appearance. He raked his eyes up your bare legs, your t-shirt barely hitting the tops of your thighs, his gaze lingering there for a few seconds before he forced himself to meet your eyes again.
“I never did get to pay you back for your help, you know?” He licked his lips, and you felt your pussy clench in anticipation. If this was how you reacted to a simple question, you were well and truly fucked if you thought you’d ever be able to function correctly with him around.
“I said you didn’t have to, remember?” You tried to keep your voice even and low, but your body was alert in anticipation now
“But I want to. Will you let me?” He asked, finally moving himself off of the chair and walking over to you. He knelt at your feet and ran his hands up your still crossed legs, grabbing them and gently coaxing them open.
“Please, princess, let me show you my appreciation.” he begged you and you nodded, giving in so easily to his pleas.
“Use your words.” He said, still letting you know who was in control of this situation, even if he was below you right now.
“Yes, Spencer, yes, you can do it.” His hands were trailing up the inside of your leg now, sending goosebumps up your arms, and growing the pit of desire that was burning for him.
“Do what? You need to tell me exactly what you want, right princess? Isn’t that what we discussed?” He placed a chaste kiss to your knee now and your body was begging you to just twine your hands in his hair and press him between your legs.
“Spencer, please use your tongue and make me cum,” you begged him, and his hands instantly moved to pull your panties down. Once he’d rid you of the garments, he hooked his arms under your thighs and pulled you into him, spreading your legs apart and finally looking at you.
“This wet for me already, princess?” he smiled up at you, a devastatingly sweet smile from his devilish position. You whimpered slightly and he finally, finally lowered his head, extending his tongue and taking his first swipe at your core.
You grabbed at his hair then, but he pulled away, grabbed your hands and pinned them at either side at you with his own and then went down again, beginning to lick and suck at your centre once more.
When he reached your centre, it was all you could do not to buck up into his face, involuntarily fighting his grip so you could get closer still to his tongue, feel even more friction as he drew small circles, before closing his entire mouth around it and giving you all the attention you had been craving since your interruption two days ago.
You knew from your experience in the file room that Spencer was somewhat naturally gifted in the bedroom, but you put that mostly down to the fact that he was a good size and had pretty notable stamina. But now you realised he was probably the best you were ever going to get. Most men you’d been with hadn’t even wanted to entertain the idea of giving you head, let alone begged you for the opportunity and then drinking you in like you were the last drop of water in the desert and he was a man parched with thirst.
You writhed and moaned into him, feeling your orgasm gain on you as you felt his pace pick up. Looking down at him and catching his eye was the last thing you could do before your eyes rolled back in pleasure, the smile in his eyes so bright, enjoying having you on his tongue so much that you couldn’t handle it anymore.
He didn’t pull off of you immediately, letting you ride his face through your orgasm, your thighs squeazing him slightly before he let go of his grip on your hands and pulled himself away from you. You gasped for breath on the sofa, still softly twitching in pleasure, as he lifted himself off the ground.
“You did so good, princess,” he said patting your head, and you became instantly aware of the painful erection he was sporting through his pants, face to face with it now he was standing up. You opened your mouth, readying yourself to ask for more of him when you heard a phone ring from the other side of the room.
You didn’t recognise the ringtone, but it seemed like Reid did, as he dropped a curse and quickly moved himself back to the chair he’d previously occupied and picked it up quickly.
“Hotch, what is it?” Spencer murmured into the line, and with that you knew you weren’t getting anything else that night. After a short conversation, Reid hung up, and turned to you again.
“We’ve got a case. You’ll probably get the call in a few minutes. We didn’t discuss this earlier, but it’s best if no one else finds out about this.” He said, gathering all of his things, as you covered yourself again. You made to pull your panties up your legs again, but he got to them first.
“No, these are mine now.” He said, so confidently that you just nodded, slightly dumbfounded, and did your best to not pull him back over you again. You were seriously contemplating it, seeing how quickly you could make him cum when another phone rang, and you recognised it as your own.
He petted your hair again, grabbed the last of his things and stuffed your panties inside of his jacket pocket, and said a final goodnight, leaving you to answer the phone alone in your apartment. You sat there subdued in the moment as you realised you were in love with the man, and couldn’t do a thing about it.
You were in love with him, and he hadn’t even once kissed you.
Thursday
Alaska. The case had taken you all the way to Alaska, and you were suddenly desperate to get back to the rain you’d left behind in Virginia. You were cold and the wetness had seeped into your body from the day traipsing around the dumpsite of your newest unsub and your motel room was cold and you were miserable.
Your motel was small, but still large enough to afford each of you your own room, considering there was no one else passing through town at this time of the year, so you didn’t feel bad about turning your light back on at 2am and grabbing the book off your nightstand, hoping it would help lull you to sleep.
Not even five words into the page, a quiet knock interrupted the unending quiet, faint but recognisable from when he’d knocked on your door only the previous night. Your heart raced as you moved to the door and you opened it for him quickly.
“Hi,” you said as you saw him there, looking just as cold as you felt.
“Hey. My room was cold, and I saw your light on…” he whispered, letting his voice trail off. You opened the door for him and he came in quickly, not waiting to risk anyone seeing the two of you, even if it was the middle of the night.
“Yeah, it’s not just you. I’m one cool draft away from piling all of my luggage over me and hoping it helps me warm up. You’d think they’d have extra blankets or something.”
“Oh, I’m sure they did, I saw Prentiss walking up to her room with a pile earlier,” he laughed and you laughed with him, his smile infectious and the temperature leaving you deliriously sleepy.
“You know, we could probably get warm if we got in together,” he suggested, and before he could explain the science behind it, you jumped at the idea.
“Yes, please, I’m willing to try anything right now.” You dove back under the covers, still wrapped in your fluffy pajamas, lifting up the covers to let him under too. He climbed in after you, and for a second you were wondering if he was just going to lie beside you for a while and then leave when he was warm enough. He quashed those thoughts the second he put his head on the pillow next to you, wrapping his arms around your waist and pulling you into him, holding you as if you were a teddy bear.
You couldn’t help the giggle that escaped your mouth as his breath tickled the back of your neck, huddling closer into him until your legs were tangled and your chests were flush against each other.
“Stop giggling and get some sleep,” he whispered down at you through a smile, his eyes closed, unaware of the look of adoration you couldn’t wipe from your face.
“You know if we really wanted to huddle for warmth, skin-to-skin contact would be much more effective,” you teased him, and he groaned into you, gripping you that much tighter.
“Do not tempt me, Y/N. It’s 2am and we’re working a case, we need some sleep,” he whispered down at you, but you were enjoying teasing him, so you continued, unrelenting.
“It didn’t take us very long any of the other times, Spencer,” you burrowed your head into his neck so he couldn’t see you as you knew he was about to react to your challenge.
“You’re a brat, you know that right?” he sighed, looking down at the top of your head and waiting for you to meet his eyes, but you just nodded into him, and he rolled his eyes and fell back into a comfortable position, but the insinuation in your words stuck to him. You felt him shift next to you, and started slowly trailing your hand down his chest.
“Unless you really want to be working this case tomorrow on one hour of sleep, I’d suggest you stop this before you can’t anymore,” he growled into your ear.
“I think I’ll take my chances, you say, your hand finally reaching his waistband and snapping it against his skin once, showing him exactly what it was you wanted. He grabbed your hands to stop your movements, but from the way he shifted his weight, you could feel that he’d already taken your words to heart.
“So fucking desperate for it, can’t even leave you alone for twenty-four hours before you’re sticking your hands in my pants, huh, princess?” His voice was a low grumble in your ear, and that familiar feeling in the pit of your stomach was back.
“Well, I’m tired tonight, so how about you show me just how much you want this?” He rolled you over, still pinning your hands with one of his larger ones, and started rolling your pajamas down your legs, just enough to access your pussy.
“Touch yourself, baby, get yourself ready for me,” he let go of your hands now and even in the dark you knew he would be watching your every movement. Lying on your side, you moved one hand down to your clit, beginning to rub slow circles into yourself, letting little gasps and moans escape from your mouth for his benefit.
After a few minutes of touching yourself, getting yourself ready, you reached behind you to Reid’s crotch, fumbling for a second before finally grabbing his dick through his pajamas. He didn’t make a sound in protest, so you continued, stroking his half hard dick until he was fully erect for you.
You gathered some of your wetness on your fingers and pushed two of them inside your pussy, stretching yourself out, beginning to synchronise your two hands so you’d both feel the pleasure together. Spencer was still frustratingly silent, not even moving further than he needed to to allow you better access. Desperate for his attention, you decide to tease him a little bit.
“Do you like that, sir?” You feel his dick twitch in your hand, and throwing a glance over your shoulder, you can see that his jaw is clenched. You panic for a second, thinking maybe he wasn’t into the pet name you’d just dropped from your lips, but he finally responds.
“You just keep working hard to make me happy, princess, okay?” He says and you grin in triumph.
“Yes, sir.” You respond. Instead of picking up your pace, you decide you’ve gone long enough without him inside you so you release him and pull your fingers out of your pussy, licking your juices off your fingers. You push your ass back into position again, lining his tip up with your core as you reach behind you to grab the base of his dick and finally feel him enter you.
Unlike the first time he’d been in you, you didn’t want this to end fast. You wanted to feel him filling you up forever, hold him inside of you. You started thrusting back in torurously slow movements, letting him get so far out of you that he feared he was going to fall out and then pushing yourself back on so deep there was nowhere else he could go.
Refusing to pick up the pace, you continue your movements for the next few minutes, but you feel him growing restless beside you. He lets out little hisses each time he feels the cold on his skin, and he’s breathing deeply, hands bawled into the sheets so he doesn’t touch you like he promised he wouldn’t.
But this feels too much like giving you control, so he starts talking to you again, trying to tease more movement out of you.
“So content to be filled with my cock, huh, baby? You want to savor it, right?” You whimper at every question, the feeling of him inside you and his gravelly voice driving you insane.
“Such a little whore, using my dick to get off when you should be sleeping.” Your pace increased after that, your body desperate to show him how eager you were to be taking all of him inside you.
“Oh? Thought you wanted to keep it slow tonight, slut, you’re getting sloppier.” You were pushing back fervently now, desperate for release, begging him for more and more until you couldn’t take it. Reaching back, you grabbed one of his hands and placed it over your breast, silently begging him to take control.
“Should I give my little whore what she wants?” You simply moaned in reply, unable to do anything else. But that was all he needed and he started matching your thrusts with his own, forcing your pace to increase until your vision was blurry with need.
You were hanging on by a thread now, his fingers rolling the nipple of the breast in his hand around, pinching it hard every few strokes.
“Spencer, I’m going to cum, I’m going to cum, please, please, please…” you had no idea what you were begging him for, but it seemed like he did, unrelenting in his thrusts.
“It’s okay baby, you can do it. You have my permission.” Once again, you came undone in his arms, and he wasn’t far behind. You fell asleep there in his arms, not even bothering to clean yourself off or make him pull out, just the two of you holding each other on a cold night.
When you woke up, he was gone, and even though you knew it was what was best, you still felt a little crack in your heart start to form.
Friday
It had been over a week since Spencer had sneaked into your room in Alaska and he hadn’t touched you since. With the case in full swing, you hadn’t had the time to sneak off together, and the hotel had since fixed their heating system after a few timely complaints from Rossi and Prentiss, so you had no excuses to gravitate to each other either.
You were back from Alaska now though, and stuffed into a booth at your favorite bar with your team for a post-case celebration. The booth was round, and you were stuck in the middle with nowhere to move, flanked on either side by Morgan and JJ, who respectively had Reid and Prentiss on either side of them, Garcia, currently at the bar, rounding out the bunch.
“Okay, one round of shots for my favorite team of Special Supervisory Agents, and the Good Doctor of course - do not try to back out of this, it’s happening.” Garcia returned with six shots of tequila and you winced. You’d never drank tequila and come out unscathed.
“Penelope I love you, but you know what tequila does to me,” you groan, trying to blink back the memories of the last time the poison had passed your lips. You’d been out on a girls night out, and after a few rounds of tequila and not a care in the world, you’d started answering any and every question the girls had put to you like you were under the influence of a truth serum.
“Exactly, sweetie, and it’s because I know that I want you to drink up, you’ve been secretive these last couple of days and I want to get to the bottom of it.”
“What happens when you drink, Y/N?” Reid asked. You could heart the curiosity in his voice, and like everytime you’d felt his attention on you in the last week and a half, your chest thumped painfully, trying to burst from your chest and reach out to him.
“Oh, it was hilarious. She was a venerable chatterbox, and she was so open with her opinions on everything. She was answering every question with the cutest sincerity.” Garcia filled him in on the details and you wanted to melt into the couch.
“We asked her what drink she wanted next and she monologued for ten minutes about some of the different choices on the menu and whether she thought they would taste good.” JJ continued.
“And when we asked more probing questions, she’d start by saying ‘I’m only telling you this because it’s you three and I love you,’” Emily finished for them.
Thankfully, the three of them had noticed that you were quite a bit past it that day, and that they shouldn’t be really asking you anything inappropriate that you’d regret answering. You were especially thankful for it now though, as you could only imagine the things you’d say about Reid if your tongue loosened. About how he felt when he was inside you, about how he’d given you the best orgasm of your life, about how you were in love with him and afraid that if you told him you’d never have him in your arms again.
“One shot won’t hurt, Y/N. You had like five last time before you started spouting wisdom, what’s the worst that one could do?” You sighed, knowing that you couldn’t say no to Penelope Garcia, and thinking that maybe you didn’t even want to.
“Okay, one shot, and no more.” You grabbed the salt and the lime, got ready for your shot as the others did the same, and then with one quick tip up, it was burning a trail down your throat.
“Great, now that that’s finished, I’m going to get us some real drinks, any requests?” After a few shouts for beers and cocktails, Prentiss left the table and went to order the next round.
“How about a game?” Garcia suggested innocently enough, “maybe two truths, one lie? Truth or dare?” You rolled your eyes at her probing, knowing that she only had good intentions. She’d checked in on you a few times during your time in Alaska as well, after you started moping about the loss of Reid in your bed. It had only been the fact that he’d made you promise to keep your relationship to yourselves that had stopped you from spilling everything to Garcia the morning you woke up and realised he was gone.
“Baby girl, you’re scaring the kid,” Morgan laughed from his place at your side, and you breathed a sigh of relief, until he opened his mouth again. “That being said, is there something you need to get off your chest, Y/N? You’ve been acting all sad recently.”
“I’m fine! Totally fine, just not getting enough sleep, I think.”
“Oh, is it nightmares? We’ve all had them, I think it’s part of the job description now.” Emily returned with the drinks and latched on to the end of your conversation.
“Not nightmares, mostly dreams if I’m being honest,” you sighed out, unable to catch yourself as she handed you your drink. You cursed yourself as you looked up to see the grin on her face.
“Y/N Y/L/N, are you telling me that you’ve been running on minimum hours of sleep because you’ve been getting some action?” Whenever Emily full-named you, you felt like a little kid being pulled into a principal's office. You gulped and sent her a panicked look, unable to deny but not wanting to say another word. From the corner of your eye, you tried to catch Reid’s reaction to all of this. He was nursing his drink on the sidelines, not saying anything, but a small twitch in the corner of his mouth filled in the gaps for him.
“Oh, that’s my girl.” Emily whistled at you from the other side of the table, and for the next half hour you did your best to melt into the table and not make eye-contact with Reid.
Eventually, Morgan made his way to the bar to start flirting with some girls, and JJ, Emily and Prentiss made their way to the dancefloor, leaving you and Reid alone at the table. They’d tried to convince you to get up with them, but you’d convinced them to leave you behind, with promises to join them shortly.
“So, you’re a truthful drunk, then?” Reid asked. He’d moved closer to you when Morgan had exited the booth, but not close enough to draw anyone's attention. Now with the girls gone too, he took his chances and pushed up against your side, your thighs touching, and his arm resting on the back of the booth.
“Don’t start, I barely survived that with my life, Reid, now they think I’m seeing someone,” you groaned into your hands.
“You are seeing someone. Granted it’s just me, and its not what they think…” he trailed off, still staring at you with that smile on his lips, but you barely noticed burying your head further into your hands. It was almost infuriating that he didn’t know that he’d never be ‘just’ anything to you.
“Not helping, Reid.” He chuckled and took another swig of his drink. Obviously the alcohol was starting to have some effect on him, because when he returned his glass to his coaster, the hand that was holding it fell directly onto your thigh. With his other arm practically wrapped around your shoulders, and this movement now, you could only imagine that the two of you looked like a couple having an intimate discussion to anyone walking past.
“What are you doing, Spencer?” You panic a bit, worrying that any second a coworker of yours would catch sight of the two of you and realise just who you’d been dreaming about these past few days. But your back was to the booth and it wasn’t in their line of sight at all.
“Oh, it’s Spencer again, is it? Thought you liked calling me sir,” he whispered in your ear and the feeling of his hot breath on your neck was enough to disable the brain cells that remained.
“Spencer!” You hissed under your breath at him, the heat rising in your cheeks. “Can we not do this here?” You asked, exasperated.
“Would you prefer to do this at my apartment, or yours instead? Or your car is outside, if you just want to get straight to it.” You weren’t used to this from him. Sure he was dominant when you were in the middle of the act, but before and after he was almost ten times more awkward than usual. But with a bit of liquid courage, he’d had you trapped in a corner, unable to escape, and not caring who saw you.
“Spencer, they’re going to see us. That was the rule, they can’t see us.” You whispered in a low voice, not wanting to take it any higher, despite the pounding music in the bar.
“And they won’t but you need to answer me baby, my place, your place or your car?” Your heart-race picked up as you saw the serious expression on his face. He needed this. Needed you so badly, that he couldn’t even wait for a natural exit, needing to carry you off to the nearest convenient location and have his way with you. You realised in that moment that you would drop anything just to give him what he needed.
“Car.” You said, letting go of your worries, and just letting him take care of the situation.
“Perfect, princess. Now, you’re going to lean on my arm and act like you have a headache while I go and make our excuses to the others, okay? Do not say a word, and maybe I’ll give you a nice reward, how does that sound?” You nodded vigorously at his instructions, suddenly very excited for whatever he had in store for you.
You stumbled your way to the dancefloor, tracking down Garcia and the others as Spencer informed them of your condition. The three of them tried to ask you questions, but you were sure that Spencer was serious about that reward, so you kept your mouth shut, leaning against Reid innocently and just nodding your head at the appropriate times. Morgan was still chatting at the bar, and Reid gave him a nod on the way out, knowing that he’d soon be filled in as well, and you were suddenly out the door.
“Good job, princess, you did so good for me in there.” He cooed into your ear as he guided you back to your own car. Unlocking the doors, he threw your bag into the front seats and immediately climbed into the back, pulling you along with him by your hand.
He pulled you over him, making you straddle him. You knew he wasn’t going to take his time with you, not here, but that didn’t matter. You needed it just as much as he did. You wondered for a second if his reward was going to finally be him pressing his lips to yours. You’d changed into a short skirt before joining your friends at a bar, that material so tight over your ass and thighs that in your new position, he didn’t even have to move it out of the way to gain access to you, having already ridden up all the way to your stomach.
“So beautiful baby. If you need to stop for whatever reason, you need to tap my shoulder here two times, okay?” You were confused about the introduction of a new safety gesture, but when he wrapped one of his hands around your neck and squeezed just as he starting rubbing your soaking cunt you suddenly realised it was necessary.
The strong grip on your throat was limiting your breath, the lack of oxygen you were getting intensifying every stroke he made. It was only a few minutes before he was pushing a finger into you, and beginning to pump it in and out quickly. You grabbed at the arm attached to your throat, using it for balance as you used your remaining energy to grind down desperately into his hand. He stilled his movements then, letting you use his hand to get off, humping yourself into him like a bitch in heat.
“You said you liked this, but if I’d have known you meant this much, I’d have done this much sooner.” He tightened his grip around your throat a little bit, still doing his best not to hurt you. You were seeing stars now, the car windows were fogged up from your desperate pants, and you were so close to just finishing right there on his hand.
You felt your vision go black as you finally tipped over the edge, tapping his shoulder quickly as you felt your orgasm rip through you. He instantly let go of you and caught you in his arms, wrapping them around you, and instantly doing everything to make sure you were okay.
“What’s wrong, are you okay? Did I squeeze too hard?” There was a panic in his tone, but you let your breathing even out before you replied, content with the feeling of him stroking your hair as your head rested against his chest.
“It’s okay, Spencer, it was just getting a little bit too intense for me, is all…” you let out a small yawn then and nuzzled into him in the backseat, your eyes drooping closed.
“Princess, I’m going to get you home now, okay? No more tonight.” He whispered sweetly into your hair, as you fell asleep in his arms once again. The last thing you felt before you fell under was his lips press a sweet kiss to the top of your head.
Saturday
When you woke up again, you knew you were in his arms, and your heart practically sang at the contact. Your eyes opened and there he was, next to you in your bed, face inches from yours, arms wrapped tightly around you and legs tangled in yours.
You stared at him for a few moments, not wanting to wake him and shatter the peace with awkward exits, not wanting to distance yourself from him for even a second. Your eyes drank all of him in. His messy hair, his long, delicate eyelashes, his lips. You found yourself staring at them for more than a few moments.
What would they feel like pressed into yours? You tried to bury the thought, but you just couldn’t. He was asleep, and you’d not talked about kissing when you’d discussed things you wouldn’t do. It was human nature to be curious, but the need to know him, to experience him and everything he had was consuming you from the inside, and you couldn’t help yourself.
Just as you were about to let your impulses control your movements and press a kiss to his lips, you felt him stir next to you, instantly snapping your eyes shut and laying as still as possible as he roused himself from sleep.
You felt him shift, but you could hear nothing over the sound of your heart beating in your ears. Did he know you were awake? Was he going to leave without waking you? Was he going to try to wake you up?
You felt his fingers against your cheek now, tracing a faint line down your face, and then he did something unexpected, and he cupped your face in his hand, and you felt him growing closer and closer until you felt the softest of touches against your lips and realised that he was finally kissing you.
Completely forgetting you were supposed to be asleep, you responded to his kiss, angling your head to better match his and pushing your lips back into his as he made to depart, encouraging him to keep going. He did, with each connection of your lips growing more and more passionate and loving, and like if he was given the chance he’d never stop holding you there in that moment. He only pulled away when he ran out of breath, and you were thankful that he did, as when you opened your eyes, the sight of him robbed you of yours too.
“Good morning, princess.” He whispered, tenderly, letting his forehead come to rest on yours, pressing another chaste kiss to your nose as he did so, and drawing out a giggle from you.
“Good morning, Spencer.” He drops another kiss to your lips then, almost as if now that he’s started he can’t stop.
“Spencer, please, why are you so touchy this morning?” you giggle up at him between kisses.
“I don’t know, you just looked so beautiful, is that a crime?” He smiles at you agan, continuing his kisses down your neck.
“We’ve never kissed before,” you vocalise your fear, and he stopped his movements before you could rush to backtrack.
“We haven’t? Oh god, we haven’t,” his eyes go wide as he looks down at you, his expression mirroring yours. “Shit, I’m sorry if I made you uncomfortable, I just assumed after everything these past two weeks that we’d kissed at some point.”
“No, no, it’s okay, don’t apologise,” you try to speak, but he keeps going, rushing to get the words out all at once.
“I think I was misremembering kissing you, maybe I thought my dreams were real or something, so if I overstepped a boundary or something about this makes you uncomfortable, say the word and I’ll never do it again.” There was a ringing in your ears as you took in his words.
“You dreamed about kissing me?” you asked in a whisper, almost scared to hear the answer. He struggled to find the right words to say for a moment, but then he nodded.
“I thought you’d have guessed by now from my enthusiasm about all of this,” he replied, still holding you, his hands hot on your waist.
“Wait, Spencer, for how long?”
“Promise you won’t be freaked out?” He groaned, looking like he’d rather bury his face in your pillows than admit what he was about tp.
“I promise, now spill.”
“Since you joined the team. Like since the exact second. I saw you when you walked in and it was like a bomb went off in my head or something, and I had to avoid you for most of that first day so you didn’t notice I was being a creep and just imagining what it would feel like to kiss you.” The grin on your face grew with each of his words, hope sprouting there and taking root.
“God, Spencer, I thought you were uncomfortable around me. I thought you hated me a little because I threw off the group dynamic!” you laughed at your own stupidity now, raking a hand through your hair as his behaviour became more understandable, now.
“No, god no. It does take me a little bit of time to warm up to change, I’ll admit, but by the end of the first week, the change I was imagining what our kids would look like.” You froze with his words, and the roots in your heart grew deeper, twining around themselves and holding you with a fervid strength.
“Kids?” was the only word you managed to gasp out, as Spencer realised what he’d said.
“Fuck… That is, I didn’t mean to… It was just a stupid thought, if you don’t feel the same way, it’s totally fine.”
“Feel what way, Spencer?” you had to hear it from his lips, had to hear the words you so desperately needed.
“Y/N, you have to know by now that I’m obsessed with you. I can’t get enough of you, I’ve been following you around like a lost puppy for the last two weeks. I’m completely devoted to you, Y/N. I love you.” The flower in your chest bloomed, and the tears from your eyes spilled to water it.
“Don’t cry, please don’t cry,�� he kissed the tears away from your cheeks, happy to continue showing you his adoration from earlier, but you pulled him away, needing to look him in the eye when you said it.
“Spencer, I love you, too. Maybe I didn’t realise as soon as you did, but somewhere in my subconscious I was so aware of you, I wanted your approval so badly, wanted you to smile and laugh with me the way you were with the rest of the team. I’ve spent this last week with the words stuck in my throat because I thought you couldn’t possibly feel the same, because Spencer you deserve all the love in the world.” Your tears were free flowing now, with your confession, and you could see some moisture forming in his as well.
The two of you didn’t need to say anything more after that, your lips doing all the communicating for you.
These kisses were different, so much deeper, more romantic, more needy. He moved his leg over you and pressed some of his weight down into you, wrapping you in his warmth. He pulled away from your lips to continue further down your neck. Each time he pulled away, he whispered a confession into your skin.
“Spencer, I want to feel you inside of me, please.” You moaned into his touch, and he quickly agreed. Now that you two knew you had each other, you wanted to waste no time. He was hard already, having woken up with the perfect reason to hold you. He carefully lifted your legs up and apart, giving himself all the space he needed to make love to you.
“God, you’re so perfect for me,” he said, pausing to spit down on your pussy, spreading the wetness with his heavy cock. He sat there rubbing himself against you for a few minutes, his lips having reconnected with yours, swallowing every moan you made, along with any he couldn’t control from himself.
The two of you were so lost in each other, in the moment, that it felt like it lasted forever. With one last rub to your sensitive areas, he lined himself up with your hole, and slowly lowered himself in. Encouraging you to hold your knees up into a tighter position, he grabbed your hips and began setting a relentless pace. It wasn’t the slow sensual fuck from your motel room, or even the hard and fast mess of your first time in the file room, but somewhere in the middle. You could feel the passion and the love he held for you in his kisses, and the lust you had cultivated over the weeks in each thrust, and it was driving you absolutely crazy.
“Yes, Spencer just like that, fuck,” you moaned out when he finally moved away from your lips, pressing his mouth into your neck again and biting down. It wasn’t hard enough to break the skin, but just hard enough that the pain heightened your pleasure.
With each thrust, your arms became weaker and weaker, your legs shaking furiously as he gave you all of him.
“Come on baby, just a few more, you can hold out for a few more,” he whispered in your ear, licking and sucking at the place he’d left his bite mark.
“I don’t think I can, I don’t think I can for musch longer, Spencer, please,” you whimpered your arms falling away from your legs. He replaced yours with his, pushing your body further into the bed, doing all the work and letting you just experience it.
“Okay, baby, you did great, you think you can come on my cock now, baby?” He asked and you immediately nodded, feeling the tell-tale bubbling of your orgasm beginning to rush through you. Your whole body stiffened as you screamed, his pace unrelenting as he rode you through the orgasm. He moved one hand down to your clit, rubbing you through it and keeping you sensitive, and even though you’d just had one of the most powerful orgasms of your life, you knew he meant to make you do it again.
“That’s my girl, taking me so well. I love you, sweetie, you’re doing so perfect for me,” you gasped and moaned into his ear, unable to think for the twitching in your cunt, driven slowly insane by the sensitivity.
“I’m almost there, baby, gonna fill your cunt with my seed.” He grunted in your ear, grabbing either side of your neck in his hands, resting his forehead against yours and thrusting harder and harder into you. You felt the second wave start to hit then, more drawn out than the first as he did his best to breed you, to plant himself firmly inside of you. He lasted only a few more thrusts before his hips stilled, bottomed out inside of you, and you felt rope after rope of his cum spurt into you.
“Fuck, princess, I love you.” He pressed another quick kiss y=to your lips, but you were whimpering from the continued contact now, and he quickly pulled out. He stopped to watch his cum drip out of you, knowing that he’d fully claimed you now, that you were his forever, and, resisting the urge to push into you again, left to grab something to clean you up with.
You laid there, gently coaxing your legs back into a comfortable position until he came back. He cleaned you up, bundled you up in some fresh pajamas, and returned you to the bed, wrapping you up in his arms once again, almost as if nothing had happened.
“It’s saturday, so we can just relax for the rest of the day, okay, princess?” You hid your face in his chest and nodded your approval, gently shutting out the rest of the world. It was you and him now, everyday of the week it was you and him.
Sunday
After two weeks of constant attention, you had to set a boundary with your new boyfriend very quickly, and you chose breakfast on the sunday morning to do it.
“Spencer, you know I love you, right?” you opened the conversation, filling up his coffee mug as he set the small table in the corner of your kitchen.
“Yes, you said it 246 times yesterday. I said it 274 times, but whose keeping count, right?” You laughed at him, and pulled him into a hug quickly, pressing a chaste kiss onto his lips.
“I love you, but we need to talk again.” You smiled up at him, trying your best to keep your poker face as you threatened to crack seeing his eyebrows knit together.
“Did I do something wrong?” he quickly asked, but you stroked his hair reassuringly, signaling for him to just listen to you.
“I really like my job, you know. I like working out in the field.” You smiled up at him, watching his confusion deepen.
“But if you keep fucking me like I’m a little whore everyday of the week, it’s only going to be a matter of time until I can’t walk, you know?”
---------------------------------------------------
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jungqkook · 3 months
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⋆。゚☁︎。⋆。 ゚☾ ゚。⋆ FORBIDDEN ATTRACTION ┊ PARK SUNGHOON
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‘that’s the help you needed, huh?’ ☁️ part of the forbidden attraction series ☁️ featuring ravenclaw!sunghoon
also read : jake ┊ heeseung ┊ jay
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AU ┊hogwarts, wizard!sunghoon x witch!reader
SUMMARY┊ when your best friend sunoo challenges you with a bet, you already know that refusing is not an option. although he’s confident that you’re never going to win. not when the bet – and its prize – revolves around none other than the studious prefect of ravenclaw – park sunghoon.
but all you need is a study session, breaking some rule and you know you’ll get his undivided attention.
WARNINGS┊SMUT! porn with plot. some sexual tension. slow burn. dirty talk, public sex, making out, sunghoon as a (soft) brat tamer 😇, teasing, choking, fingering, handjob, oral sex (f & m receiving), voyeurism, unprotected sex, riding him on the chair, fucking on a table, sunghoon has a dirty mouth (i can’t contain myself, i’m sorry). THIS IS LOOONG, the smut part even longer. so please pardon any spelling mistakes <3 also this is a repost because it didn't appear in the tags woo!! plus this is fiction, i don’t own enha and nothing in these fics depicts their actual personalities and behaviours !
click on read more !!
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There’s something quite fascinating about Hogwarts at night, as if it takes on an even more magical and mysterious aura -- which is an understatement.
Dimly lit torches line the stone walls, casting flickering shadows that dance across the ancient tapestries. It feels like the entire castle is hushed, with moonlight streaming through the towering windows, illuminating the long wooden corridors.
The only thing you could hear were the faint voices of portraits on the walls that seem to come alive in the quiet, their subjects whispering and moving within their frames.
But if someone happens to walk towards the small lobby between the Astronomy Tower and the Spell classroom, they would find the not-so-quiet laughters and curses of a troublemaker pair; that of the Slytherin pupil Kim Sunoo and you - the most popular and admired student in Hogwarts.
It was supposed to be a simple night study session, that’s what your dear friend promised you, in sight of your upcoming exams. Tucked away in the secluded hall leading to the Tower -- nothing and nobody would have distracted you.
However, Sunoo seems to have taken it upon himself as a personal mission to awaken the entire school with your awfully loud discourses, delving into subjects typically reserved for more... private settings.
But you and Sunoo have many things in common, and having no shame is one of that – even if that means taking some time off your studies, busy distracting yourselves at the slightest sign of boredom.
That’s how you’re here now, sitting on the floor as open books are scattered around you while Sunoo urges you to tell him about your almost recent hook-up, making you spare no detail.
“I can’t believe you, seriously!” says Sunoo, a hand covering his mouth as he shamelessly laughs out loud at your words. “You refused some head from Lee fucking Felix?!”
You just shrug your shoulders at his question, a smirk on your face as you stare at his shocked expression.
“He wanted to do it in Potion class," you respond, "imagine if we got caught."
Getting caught by your dreadfully grumpy professor was not on your list – not to mention ruining your reputation only to get some head by a guy. Not even a cute face like Felix could convince you.
“As if it ever stopped you from doing it before,” Sunoo smirks, and you chuckle remembering how many times you risked your status of role model student by hooking up… literally anywhere. The last time it happened you were at the storeroom, the excuse of grabbing a potion ingredient lead you to get hammered by a Gryffindor boy you met in class. A moan intended to be less loud was enough to catch the attention of the school’s custodian (or was it him?), and if it wasn’t for your promptness in casting an invisibility spell, you would have get caught.
And since then you’ve been weary from doing it, not only in public spots but also in general. Which explains the situation you’re currently in, constantly horny while the only thought in your head is to get dicked down by someone.
“And what is that supposed to mean?!” you ask with a playful smirk, barely containing your laugh as he gives you a knowing look.
“I’m just saying you don’t need Alohomora to open your legs,” he says confidently, as if it was the most obvious thing in the world -- not that you could deny his fair words.
In your years of being a Hogwarts student, you’ve always had an impeccable reputation, which led your teachers to have a soft spot for you. Of course, that only caused the most utter jealousy coming from your fellow classmates, as well as the admiration from younger students.
People often speculated about your future after graduating, whether you’d become a successful Auror or even walking your way to become a full-time teacher at Hogwarts.
But little do they know, the beloved witch they worship so much cares about her studies as much as she spends her time being a remarkable slut. And one of the bests too. Which is why Sunoo has every right to be in disbelief at your lame attempts of convincing him that your hooker days might have come to an end.
Maybe.
The urge to curse at Sunoo is strong – despite his words being nothing but true – but before you could open your mouth, you get interrupted by a loud bang coming from near by.
“What was that?” you ask, Sunoo immediately shushing you as your body freezes at the unexpected sound -- you know you don't have anything to hide, yet you can't help the nervousness building up inside you.
It only takes a few seconds before you’re met with two first-year students, their uniform holding a print of the Ravenclaw emblem. Their breaths are clearly labored, as are their face flushed with fatigue. They were probably running, perhaps escaping from something – or someone? – which explains why they keep looking around in a tense manner.
When it seemed like everything was fine, they let out a sigh of relief, barely noticing our presence. Sunoo lets out an amused giggle, which was interrupted by a sudden flash of light.
A curse left my lips at the unexpected brightness, radiant enough to scare the two younger students as an impending figure appears in front of them.
You and Sunoo share a confused look, your eyes focused on the scene in front of you as the tall figure stands in front of them.
"How did you do that?!" one of the younger boys ask, his voice shaky as the older guy tilts his head at his question, as if it was the most idiotic thing he's ever heard.
"If you took your classes seriously, you'd know." he responds, his tone as icy as his presence, which emits a sense of authority you rarely see in students your age.
The younger students look at each other with a scared expression, making the older Ravenclaw let out a frustrated sigh, barely audible yet full of meaning.
He walks closer to them, his hands inside the pockets of his pants. The mere action is enough to let the soft material of his cape move away from his body, the scene almost theatrical as you take a better look at his figure.
His posture is confident, and there's an innate grace in the way he carries himself, leaving you in awe at the sight of his slim and tall body.
“You’d also know that wondering around the castle at night is prohibited for first-years like you,” he spits out, his words clearly menacing behind his stoic tone.
It’s almost amusing to see the frightened faces of the two Ravenclaws, their mouth immediately spilling words of excuses and promises to never break said rule again.
“It’s not like we’re the only ones around!” one of them says, pointing towards none other than me and Sunoo.
The older guy turns his body to you, his eyes meeting yours as you finally take on his astounding appearance. You can’t help your eyes slightly widening at the sight; his chiseled features draw attention like a masterpiece framed in light.
His face is adorned by his luscious, black hair and by how perfectly styled they look, you can tell he tries to maintain a well-groomed appearance that speak of attention to detail -- a peculiar characteristic of a true Ravenclaw.
His expression is stoic, as well as the tone he used with the younger boys, but his eyes hold a mysterious glimpse you can’t help but feel drawn to. Its feline shape matches perfectly with its black color, dark as polished onyx.
Everything about him eludes sophistication, and it’s not a coincidence that everyone refer to him as such.
Park Sunghoon is a notorious student in your year, certainly the most feared yet admired of his house. Some might describe him as a party ruiner – always guarding the halls at night to prevent anyone from breaking any rule – while others see him as a reliable source for… anything, really. As if he’s a walking encyclopaedia with a passion for uncovering plans of not-so-innocent students. The perfect traits of a designated prefect – one of the best Hogwarts has ever had.
Of course, you’ve known him for quite some time. You might have had set your eyes on him already, and Sunoo is no foreign to your thirsty thoughts about him. He’s always eager to remind you how many times you begged him to join your study session at the Library, only to spend most of your time staring and gawking at the hard-worker Ravenclaw whose eyes were always set on his books.
You both share the same Potion class, which led you to work together in some preparations, your body always brushing against his purposely, (almost) closing the distance between the two of you. Surely you didn’t miss the way his eyes roamed up and down your body at your action. There was even one time where he grabbed your hips with the excuse of grabbing a potion ingredient in the shelf behind you, his big hands holding you tightly as he pressed you against him.
And you’re sure of that, despite Sunoo telling you that you were being delusional. But how could you forget his smirk after you stared at him with a shocked (and amused) expression? An image that haunted your mind for the following month. Before you found someone else to keep you occupied, of course.
“They don’t look first-years to me, don’t you think?” he breaks the silence, interrupting your prolonged staring as his eyes move back to his younger house mates.
“Unless you happen to have sight problems,” he says with a hint of sarcasm, making Sunoo let out a snicker, “in that case, it’d be even less prudent to go around the castle at this hour.”
The tone of his voice suddenly deepens with the last words, and before the younger students could say anything, he interrupts them with a motion of his wand, a piece of paper appearing in front of him.
“Should I write a complain to deliver directly to the vice headmaster about your rendezvous at night?” he asks, a plume appearing on his other hand. “Or I can assume you’ll find your own way back to the Common Room at haste?”
His voice, menacing as it sounds, holds a sense of urgency that thankfully the younger Ravenclaws are quick to catch, immediately assuring their prefect that they’ll go back to their dorms in no time.
It happens as fast as they said it, not wasting time as they run away, leaving the Ravenclaw prefect let out an annoyed sigh.
A sigh that is soon followed by another, much more heard than Sunghoon’s, from none other than your friend Sunoo.
The sound makes Sunghoon turn his head to you, his eyes moving back and forth between you and your friend, catching your books scattered around the floor. Studying at late hours wasn’t strange to you, but probably it was not a good excuse for being around the castle this late at night.
“Sunoo, Y/N.” He calls your names, his tone less harsh than before, although as stoic as usual. “What are you two doing?”
“What do you think?” you respond back, a challenging tone in your voice as he tilts your head at your words. He quickly looks at Sunoo, that looks back at him with an unapologetic smile.
You could feel your friend’s piercing gaze on you, probably cursing you internally and begging you not to test the prefect’s patience, but your eyes are set on the tall man.
“I think you should go back to your rooms,” he says.
“Are you coming with us?”
You don’t know what went through your head to make you ask that so shamelessly – even Sunoo can’t hide his surprised expression at your words.
Maybe you’re imagining things at his point, your vision almost blurry as your eyes are still set on him. You swear your saw his face slightly blushing at your words, however you can’t be too sure.
But nothing could have prepared you for Sunghoon to let out a mirthful chuckle, a smirk appearing on his face. The same one he did in potion class the very first time.
“Mine wasn’t an invitation,” he simply responds, his tone as icy as before, “more like a valuable advice.”
A silent snicker leaves your lips at his words -- surely sarcasm is his best defence, nothing new for you. You could be a great rival at that, and what stops you from trying it right away is Sunoo breaking a possible banter between the two of you.
“We will go back to our dorms shortly,” he says, forcing a smile. Sunghoon simply dismisses himself with only a nod of his head, walking away from you, not before sending you one last look.
“I bet he’s fun at parties,” you can’t help but say with a chuckle, not even waiting for him to walk away.
It’s not the case of Sunoo that elbows you harshly, making you laugh louder. “What the actual fuck!” he exclaims, chuckling when he’s sure that you’re both alone.
“Have you seen the look on his face?”
“What did you expect? You offered it to him on a silver plate!” he says, fit of laughters echoing in the room.
“And you said you weren’t a little slut anymore,” he adds, enhancing his words with a wiggle of his eyebrows.
“Whatever,” you shrug him off, your smirk refusing to leave you as you process what just happened. “I can tell he liked my words. Mine was certainly an invitation.”
Sunoo can’t help but roll his eyes at your words, although he enjoys this situation as much as you.
“As if he would accept it,” he teases.
“You’re telling me I can’t pull him off?” you respond, sending him an harsh look. Never in your Hogwarts years you’ve received a no as an answer.
“That’s not what I meant!” He shakes his head in response. “I bet under his nerdy facade, he’s a frustrated mess. Prefect duties aside, I’m sure he has no time to get laid.”
He says it as it was the most obvious thing ever, which you find quite questionable. Sunghoon might be a prefect, always dutiful and having no time for ludicrous activities, but you can tell he’s got experience just by the way he carries himself. Surely he’s not blind in front of the admiring looks of witches and wizards as he walks around the school. You’re almost certain he enjoys the attention he gets, as much as he tries to hide it.
“And actually, I think you might be useful to him.” he adds, awakening you from your thoughts.
“Useful?” you ask, your friend now having all your attention. He simply nods at your question, before explaining even further.
“I mean, if you helped him blow off some steam, I bet he’d be more tolerable.” he proposes “That if you stop being a saint in disguise. You might as well go back to the Muggle world and make a chastity vow.”
“And how would I do that?” you ask, feigning ignorance.
Sunoo lets out an annoyed sigh at your question. “Did the lack of sex burn down what remained of your dumb little brain?”
“Shut up,” you chuckle at his words, grabbing what remains of your messy papers and books on the floor, ready to head back to your common room as Sunoo continues his teasing.
“Or maybe you’re just afraid he won’t fall on his knees for you,” he whispers, stopping your movements as you send him a dirty look.
“As if,” you respond seriously. “When have I never won a guy over?”
“But Park Sunghoon is not an easy catch,” he responds “not even an Imperio spell could make him do anything you want.”
You’re starting to hate Sunoo for putting such thoughts into your mind; the idea of having Sunghoon at your mercy is tempting enough to make you consider his words.
“Bet,” you say with a roll of your eyes, getting up from the floor as Sunoo follows you shortly after.
“As a matter of fact, yes. Let’s bet.” His signature smirk tells you he’s up to no good, yet you can’t seem to ignore his next words. “If you’re so sure of yourself, make the Ravenclaw boy fall at your feet.”
“And what I’ll get in return?” you ask, already knowing that you’ve accepted any bet involving Sunghoon as soon as you set your eyes on him.
“Uuuh… my utter respect?”
“I already have it,” you respond, shrugging him off as you walk back to your dorms.
“You lost it the moment you decided to wear a chastity belt.”
But little does Sunoo know, that your prude days might have come to an end this very moment. Especially now that you have a bet to win, and a Ravenclaw to have fun with.
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Having everyone’s eyes on you comes with great responsibility. Meaning that everyone expects you to be a diligent student, always following the rules and being a good role model for younger students.
However, you can’t deny that you’ve found yourself in multiple situations where you might have broken some rule. And how you’ve never got caught is certainly a mystery to uncover, but all you’ve needed was a simple touch of your wand and poof… you managed to hide yourself from undiscreet eyes.
You’ve used the disillusionment charm too many times to count -- meeting your hook up at night is not an easy task when certain prefects roam around the castle.
And perhaps you should also use it now that you’re walking around the library, wondering if your plan will go as smoothly as you hope -- your eyes focused on your prey.
When he’s not pestering younger students around the castle, Park Sunghoon likes to spend time in the library, mostly focused on his studies, although he had the designated role of checking around the study hall, a courtesy to Mrs Scribner.
You knew you could find him here, but in order to catch his attention you’d have to do better than just tease and stare at him from distance.
See, you don’t have any problem when it comes to get your hands dirty, when it’s done for a good cause. And Sunghoon is worthy enough to break one of the most severe rules in Hogwarts.
Students are prohibited from entering the Forbidden Forrest outside the Hogwarts castle, one of them says. It’s also severely forbidden for any student to enter a faculty room without previous consent, especially the Restricted Section in the Library area.
Now, you’re not brave enough to enter the Forbidden Forrest unaccompanied – you weren’t exactly friendly with giant spiders and centaurs – but the Restricted Section in the library always perked your curiosity.
So why not entering it with a lame excuse only to catch the attention of one Ravenclaw prefect?
That’s why you’re here now, wandering around the library aisles as the only sounds you can hear are the rustling of papers alongside the hushed whispers of students.
Your eyes, however, are set on a recognisable figure, whose attention is merely focused on the pile of books Mrs Scribner gave him to place around the library. Your initial idea is to occasionally bump into him as he scrolls down the aisles, but the large inscription of the Restricted Section catches your attention the more you look at it.
So – before you send Sunghoon one last look – you slowly walk towards the wooden door that divides the rest of the library from the Restricted Section, trying your best not to be seen by any students or worse, the custodian.
If Sunghoon has an acute eye for trespassers, he’d surely have seen you by now.
As you enter the secluded area, you immediately get veiled in an air of mystery. Dim lighting casts shadows on ancient tomes, their leather bindings exuding a faint scent of history.
The silence is palpable, broken only by the occasional echo of your footsteps treading carefully on creaky wooden floors.
A silent curse leaves your lips as the floor below creaks loudly, the sound making you cringe as you wander around different aisles.
You surely understand the reason why this place is prohibited for most of the students; books of ancient magic, adorned with suggestive emblems, are enough to catch the attention of those who want to master the Dark Arts.
You’re so enthralled by those books that you don’t notice an impending figure behind you.
“Moste Potente Potions? Interesting choice.”
You can’t help the gasp leaving your lips as you turn around, your eyes widening even more when you’re met with none other than Park Sunghoon, his figure so tall in contrast to yours.
“Sssh, there’s no need to be loud.” His expression matches the stoicism in the tone of his voice. “Unless you want other people to find out what you’re doing?” he says, clearly alluding to Mrs Scribner.
“No…” you barely manage to say, too focused at coming up with an excuse. “It’s just–“
“I assume you don’t have a written permission to be here, am I right?”
He tilts his head as you don’t respond to him right away, as if he doesn’t already now that you don’t have any right to be here.
“So why did you think it was a good idea to come here?”
“If you just–” you stop yourself, trying to rebuild your usual confident facade – an hard task considering the proximity of Sunghoon face with yours – “I needed more material for a… new potion.”
You grab the book he previously mentioned, holding it tightly against your chest.
He knows you’re lying to him, but he can’t help but wonder how far you’ll go to have him convinced.
“A new potion?” he asks, feigning curiosity.
“Yes,” you respond proudly, not even processing your next words as you say them so confidently “a love potion, to be exact.”
Your words must have sounded funny to Sunghoon, whose tight lips break in a surprised chuckle. It’s the first time you see him genuinely smile, although you can tell he’s about to crush your ego.
“Ever heard of Amortentia?” he deadpans “Unless you just pretend to pay attention in class.”
His words make you roll your eyes, earning a smirk from him. “I knew you were up to no good.”
“Do you spend your time staring at me in class?” you bark back, this time making him raise his eyebrows at your words. “Because if you paid more attention, you’d know that Amortentia is not a love potion, it only creates the illusion of true love behind a mere obsession.”
Mhm, at least you know you’re good at coming up with plausible excuses.
You can tell he’s taken aback by your words, your own smirk challenging him as he takes his time to respond. His eyes move to the book in your hands, before meeting yours once again.
“So you want to create a potion of true love?” he asks, a question that seems too genuine coming from Sunghoon.
You simply nod in response, your confident demeanour somehow convincing him.
“But how can you create a potion so strong that ignites such a deep attachment?” he asks, and this time you take your time to respond.
As if you have an answer for that.
“I don’t know yet,” you say, honestly. “I hope this book could help me find a solution.”
“It won’t,” he says immediately, stating the obvious. “Amortentia is the closest thing we have to create the symptoms of love.”
You sigh at his words, but you can’t help but notice how invested he seems to get to know more.
“Exactly, the symptoms.” you respond. “I want to make a potion for real love.”
His eyes leave yours for a moment, staring a point behind you as you can see his brain working. He’s definitely thinking about something, you can tell by the way his teeth nip at his bottom lip, eyebrows slightly scrunched as he focuses on something.
You almost tease his dozing expression, but he cuts you off with the most unexpected words.
“I’ll help you.”
Surprise flashes across your face as his words hang in the air, catching you off guard. “You what?”
“Don’t make me say it back,” he warns, sighing loudly as you stare at him in confusion.
“No wait– there has to be a catch for you.” You’re ready to put yourself in defence, not fully into whatever game Sunghoon wants to play.
“No catch,” he reassures you “if you’re certain you can make a potion from scratch, I’d like to see it with my own eyes.”
“Why?” you ask confused, not prepared for his next words.
“Because in the case of failure – which is most likely from your part – I’ll be there to fix the problem. Or to make a new potion, since I’m already there.”
You should have expected it, his words making you sigh in frustration as he simply smirk as at you.
“So?” he asks, a bit of eagerness in his tone.
“If you’re so desperate to help me,” you tease him, although you know you’d say yes to him in an instant. “Then I guess you can.”
“Mhm, alright.” He fails to hide his smile at your words, “See you at the library. Not the Restriced Section.”
He dismisses himself shortly, leaving you confused and aroused. How can you manage a study session with him when you can hardly contain yourself from becoming a horny mess?
But that’s only a thought for later. Now you have to relate your encounter to Sunoo and getting out of the Restricted Section before Peeves finds you.
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Surprising at it sounds, you made the decision to keep your upcoming study session only to yourself — Sunoo would understand it. Especially when he’ll know what will happen between you and the Ravenclaw prefect.
You’ve always had a sixth sense, and whenever you felt like you would hook up with someone, it always happens. However, you can’t deny that the thought of spending time with Sunghoon – although for academic purposes – makes you nervous.
Probably because he seems so unpredictable, even a bit eccentric in his own way. Which is probably why you’re so drawn to him, physical appearance aside.
But you never went to any place unprepared, so you took extra time preparing yourself, covering your body with your favourite perfume as your usual school uniform hides a set of baby blue lingerie under it.
Choosing it wasn’t an easy task, and it took you enough time. You end up arriving a bit late to the place you and Sunghoon agreed to meet up: the library.
You wonder if he sleeps there as well, spending so much time in that place.
“Come at 6pm sharp. Don’t be late.
— Park Sunghoon.”
The owl he sent you said, so here you are now, standing in front of him as he purposely ignores your presence while scribbling down on some papers. Not even a slight caught catches his attention.
“It’s 6:13,” he simply states, still not looking at you.
“It’s only 13 minutes,” you protest back.
“13 minutes that could have been spent on your potion.”
You let out a sigh at his words. Does he always take everything seriously?
“Now sit.” His demanding words are unexpected, his deep voice sending shivers down your spine.
“Yes sir.” Maybe it’s too early to start playing, but a part of you wants nothing more than test his patience already.
You do as he says, sitting next to him as his eyes meet yours. You can tell your words, although sarcastic, had an effect on him by the way his dark pupils dilate, finally taking a better look on your pampered appearance.
A small twitch of his mouth is enough for you to understand he liked what he heard, even more the way you complied immediately. But before you could tease him even further, he talks again.
“Did you bring the book?”
“Huh?” You’re too enthralled in his eyes that you forgot about the reason you’re here.
“The book you stole from the library. Do you have it?” His words snap you back to reality, a smile appearing on his lips as your eyes widen.
“You can’t steal a book from a library,” you try to defend yourself “I just burrowed it.”
Sunghoon lets out a sarcastic chuckle. “Sure, whatever you say.”
You take your book out from your bag, a loud thump echoing in the large library as he sighs in annoyance.
“You can’t be quieter?” His annoyed tone doesn’t match the slight smirk on his face, which only amuses you more and more.
“Afraid you might get caught doing illicit activities?” you ask in a playful manner, and he raises an eyebrows at your words.
“I’m the one who usually catches people in the act,” he responds “but I’m sure you can manage not to make much noise.”
You hate the way his words have the effect to make your legs tremble; Maybe it’s just you, but you can’t help but wonder if his words are meant to allude to something else.
“And if I can’t?” you ask, your teasing smirk falling as soon as he responds.
“Then I’ll make you quiet.”
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30 minutes in and what seems the hundredth yawn leaves your lips, not even hiding your boredom as Sunghoon crosses out another ingredient for your love potion or whatever you’re creating right now.
Its green-ish colour doesn’t seem too inviting as the pot in front of you emanates a strong smell of… you’re not even sure of what it might be.
“I think you created some sort of poison.” You sigh at Sunghoon’s words, although a small smile appears on your face as you’re met with his playful grin.
In the past thirty minutes, Sunghoon did not provide much help - - well, except the time he stopped your liquid mess from exploding and telling you everything about potions, distillations and what’s in between.
Sunghoon might annoy in class sometimes, always responding to your professor’s question and interrupting the lesson to show off his knowledge, but he sounds so genuine as he talks about potions.
“I should stick to Amortentia.” Your words make him laugh, shaking his head as he helps you cleaning up your mess.
“I suppose there’s a reason why you’re trying to make a love potion out of nowhere,” he says, his tone slightly teasing.
You shake your head at his words. “No reason.”
Sunghoon hums at your words, although not believing them. “So it’s only for academic purposes? Not to make a poor guy fall into your gremlin arms?”
You can’t help the gasp leaving your lips at his words, earning a laugh from him at your unimpressed expression.
“I don’t need a useless potion to make someone fall in love with me,” you say confidently, crossing your arms in your chest.
Sunghoon’s laugh dies as he stares at you, his head tilting to the side – a signature move of his – as his eyes roam up and down your body before meeting your face again.
“I know you don’t.”
You don’t miss the way his eyes lock on your lips, diverting between them and your eyes as your expression changes into slight confusion.
“That’s because not even a potion could help you with that,” he says with a smirk, his body shifting away from yours. You didn’t even notice the proximity of your bodies, your shoulders touching slightly.
“Fuck you, Sunghoon.” You huff at his words, your back pressing against the chair in defeat.
“Ah, I’m sure you want to.”
His words make your head snap back at him, your eyebrows rising in confusion as you’re met with his grin, which becomes more irritating the more you look at it.
“It’s what you do, no?” he questions, his feline eyes staring into yours as his gaze darkens. “Trying to have everyone’s attention on you, playing with people however you like. Having your way with them.”
His voice gets deeper while his eyes are locked on yours, making you take a deep, barely audible breath as his body moves closer to yours.
“Is it wrong?” you ask, feigning ignorance as you shrug your shoulders off at his words -- despite them being nothing but true.
“It’s not about being wrong or not,” he simply states, “only those who can see through your act knows you’re a spoiled brat.”
You let out a chuckle at his words, not believing what you just heard. Park Sunghoon calling you a brat was never on your list, but maybe it’s the way he said it, meaning it as a tease, or maybe it’s the way his eyes stare at you so intensively… you don’t exactly know what it is, but you start feeling a new sensation pervading your body.
“And what’s the matter with it?”
If Sunghoon thinks you’re a brat, then you’re giving him every reason to believe so. This little game with him might be more interesting than you anticipated.
This time it’s him that lets out a chuckle, grinning at you. “You don’t understand, do you? You just can’t see it.”
You hum at his words, licking your lower lip slowly while looking into his eyes before muttering your next words.
“Show me, then.”
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It all happens so fast.
You can barely process what’s going on as you feel Sunghoon’s big hands roam up and down your upper body, his mouth hungrily attacking yours as he savours you entirely.
His actions are so different from his usual demeanour, his movements erratic as you sense desperation in them; you can tell he’s having an hard time — even harder than you — at keeping it low, trying not gain the attention of other people.
You’re still in the library, after all, and the thought of being in a public place, risking to get caught only sends shivers down your spine. His tongue enters your mouth, his urgency so palpable that makes your hand move from his thigh to his growing bulge.
He hisses at your touch, breaking the kiss as a small chuckle leaves his lips when you press your hand against his clothed cock. He bites his lip to prevent himself from making any noise, before halting your movements as you try to unzip his pants.
“Do you think I’m going to give it to you so easily?”
His tone is deep, a bit laboured after all the kissing, but it still holds the authority that make him distinguished from the rest. You look at him in slight confusion, earning a smirk from him.
“Or did you think I was going to beg for your pussy? To let me fuck your tight little cunt?”
Sunghoon is no foreign to sarcasm, but hearing his mocking makes you widen your eyes in surprise. It’s the first time someone talks to you like that, usually wasting no time to fuck you immediately.
“No, sweetheart. I’m going to put you in your fucking place.”
His lips find yours again, biting your lower lip as a small moan leaves your mouth at the unexpected action. He immediately shushes you, breaking the kiss as you look at him with begging eyes -- how did you kept living this whole time without tasting Sunghoon’s lips before? You couldn’t believe how addicting they are.
You let out another pleading sound, and he gives you a warning look this time. “Be grateful we’re in public, otherwise I would have spanked your ass red already.”
His harsh words send shivers down your spine, your hand grabbing the rough material of his uniform as his lips teases yours, not fully giving in as much as he wants to absolutely devour you.
“What if I want you to?” You ask against his lips, his grin appearing again.
“As tempting as it is, not today.” He says honestly. “Unless you’re giving me a reason to do so. But I’m sure you’ll be obedient.”
Suddenly, he pulls back from you, his dark gaze darting from you to the crotch on his pants.
“Now get on your knees for me, sweetheart.”
With other guys, you’ve always made sure to take your time, teasing them before they ended up being a desperate mess, begging you to make them feel good.
But Sunghoon has this powerful effect to make you do anything he wants, so without indulging in useless games, you immediately do as he says, kneeling in front of him.
“Yeah, get under the table, like that.”
You comply immediately, settling between his legs as your head perks up a little to look around; it’s the first time you’re doing it in the school library, and as exciting as it sounds, you’re still afraid someone might see you.
“What is it? Scared of getting caught?” Sunghoon grins, using your same words against you. “I’m sure you’ve done this before.”
You want to tease him back, challenging him further, but the growing bulge on his pants is too inviting to ignore. He gives you a knowing look, gesturing you to do something about it.
You bite your lips at the deep moan he lets out as soon as you press your hand against it, grabbing his clothed cock. It feels heavy on your hand, and you wonder how long he’s not been in a situation like this to get him as hard as rock.
“Mhm, let it out, sweetheart” he says, another moan escaping his mouth as you finally unzip his pants, freeing his cock as it almost slaps against your face.
You let out a surprised sigh at the sight of his cock, so long and hard as the head starts leaking in anticipation.
You grab it gently by the base, slowly moving your hand up and down as he falls against the chair, his eyes almost closing at the pleasurable sensation.
“C’mon sweetheart,” he coos, stroking your hair gently as you keep your movements slow “be a good obedient slut and use your mouth.”
As much as he tries to remain dominant, the tone in his voice can’t hide his eagerness; his whole body is silently begging you to do anything to make him feel good. And who are you to not satisfy him entirely?
You lock eyes with him, your hand continuing your up and down motion as your tongue temptingly swirls around his tip.
“Like this?” You ask, looking at him with doe eyes as he hisses at your action. His chest heavies up and down, trying to hold his moans as he nods at your words.
“Mhm, so you can be a good girl if you want.” He says, his voice a quiet whisper for only you to hear. “Spit on it, sweetheart.”
You immediately do as he says, spitting on the head as your movements become slightly faster, your mouth trying to take more of his cock -- which is anything but easy, considering its length. His dick happens to be as pretty as him.
You let out a choked sound as you try to reach the base, earning a loud moan from Sunghoon whose breath becomes heavier and heavier the more you suck him.
“Take this fucking dick, oh my fucking–”
A string of moans leaves his lips as you take your mouth off his cock, your hand moving faster against it as you start paying attention to his balls.
You suck each one while you stare at his face, his teeth biting hard against his lower lip as he tries to remain quiet -- an hard thing to do as you keep sucking the soul out of him.
“You suck this dick so fucking good– oh fuck…”
One of his hand grabs your hair again, earning a whine from you as he positions your mouth back to his cock, pressing its head on your lips.
“Open up, sweetheart, be a good girl.”
As you do so, he wastes no time and presses his dick inside your mouth, giving you no chance to get used to it as he starts fucking your mouth. You moan and choke against his flesh, making his legs shake in pleasure.
His dick gets impossibly harder inside your mouth, and you’re sure he’s about to explode in any second. However, he pulls your head away, his dick popping outside your mouth as string of saliva coat it entirely. It looks painfully hard, but the look on his eyes tells you he doesn’t want to cum yet.
“Who knew you could be such a good girl?”
You grin at his words, a moan leaving your lips as you taste his precum on your tongue. A part of you wants his dick back in your mouth, but you’re thrilled to know what he’s up to.
He wastes no time and grabs the back of your neck, his lips crashing against yours as he savours himself on your tongue.
He helps you get up from the floor, gently pushing you on the table as you lay on it, helping Sunghoon at giving you more room to be comfortable against the woody material still covered in your books. The remnants of your little study session reminds you the reason why you should be here. But as Sunghoon understood, it was all part of your plan.
A plan that sees you laying down on the library desk, Sunghoon’s hands touching you everywhere as he raises the skirt of your uniform.
His eyebrow perk up in amusement as he sees your panties. “Blue?” His tone is playful, making you giggle as you nod at him. You widen your legs as his fingers press against the lacy material, making him coo.
“So wet for me…” he says, most to himself, slowly taking them off as you present your pussy to him, wet and throbbing.
He lets a shaking breath at the sight, immediately palming his cock as he stares down at your pussy.
“Touch yourself for me, sweetheart.”
You almost let out a moan at his words. You’ve never done something like this before, masturbating in front of someone. But he looks incredibly hot while stroking his cock for you, eyes staring into your wet center.
He doesn’t look like the Sunghoon you met in class. The quiet, always polished and composed Ravenclaw prefect that everyone admires and fears.
He looks like a devil in disguise, his hair a mess as his face and neck are flushed red. And his gaze… there’s a certain urgency and desperation you’ve never seen before in him.
“Mhm, does it turn you on watching me stroke my cock?” His voice is shaky, his hand fastening as well as your fingers against your clit. You nod your head at his question, unable to remain quiet as he unexpectedly slaps the head of his cock against your throbbing clit.
“Ssh, ssh…” he coos again, chuckling devilishly “look at me and be quiet.”
You obey immediately, staring at him as his head lowers down at the level of your pussy, one of his fingers touching your entrance as he murmurs silent praises.
“Let me taste that pussy, sweetheart.”
It’s not a request, although it seems like it, because he doesn’t even wait for your response before diving into your wet cunt, licking all the way up to your clit.
“Sunghoon!” you gasp, the anticipation of his touch on you made you sensitive enough to make you shake in pleasure at the mere lick of his tongue.
“Tastes so good…” he moans against your pussy, focusing on your clit as he swirls his tongue around it.
His eyes stare into yours, making you cover your face in embarrassment as you feel completely overwhelmed by how amazing Sunghoon’s mouth feels.
“Tsk tsk tsk, look at me.” His growling tone makes your pussy throb even more, and he notices it immediately, making him smirk. He enjoys how easy it’s for him to make you crumble, his fingers starting to tease your entrance in a slow motion.
“Fuck, Sunghoon!” You didn’t mean to be that loud, but how can you not do that when Sunghoon suddenly fills you up with two fingers, slowly inserting them as he finds a pleasurable rhythm.
He looks absolutely beautiful between your thighs, his tongue peeking out between each lick and suck of your clit. When he drags his tongue up, you notice your wetness dripping down his jaw, making you roll your eyes.
The sight itself is enough to make you cum, as if his long fingers and skilful tongue are not giving you an hard time already. He’s fingering you fast now, soft whimpers escaping your mouth as you try to cover them with your hand.
A small slap on your thigh – a silent way to make you shut up – makes you gasp, immediately catching his signal and biting your lower lip harder.
Your eyes can barely keep open as he continues his attack on you, your pussy starting to convulse as suddenly Sunghoon retrieves his fingers from you, mouth leaving your throbbing clit as he stands in front of you.
You’re ready to complain, before he grabs you by the thighs, pussy full in display as he puts you on the edge of the table.
“Brats don’t deserve to cum that soon.”
His tone his harsh, making your pussy pulse again as you wait for him to do something… anything to make you feel good again.
“Patience, sweetheart.” He grins at your fucked out state, stroking his cock with one hand. “I’m going to put it now…”
He looks into your eyes, his own asking for a silent approval before you push your pussy further into him. That is enough for him to press the tip of his cock inside you, its hardness already making you whine.
His cocky grin reappears on his face as he sees you struggling already, pushing himself inside you in a achingly slow manner.
You can’t help the loud moan of relief as soon as you feel him pressing against you, before your eyes widen as you raise on your elbows to look between your legs -- his cock not even half way in.
“Fuck, Sunghoon, you’re so big…”
He pulls back again, teasing you more, before pushing inch by inch as your body slightly trembles. He’s reaching places no one has ever been in, going so deep.
“Mhm, you like this cock, huh?” His voice his shaky as his movements remain slow. “You’re clenching me so hard, fuck.”
His words make you moan as he starts thrusting a bit faster, holding you by the hips as his eyes stare angrily at your pussy.
“Uuugh Sunghoon– don’t stop, please!” you’re not able to keep your voice down as he hits deeper and deeper.
“Yeah? I’ll keep going if you stop being so loud, sweetheart.” He says as he hilts his movements, the action making you whine in frustration.
“Not so scared of getting caught anymore?” he asks, teasing your clit with his thumb. “And then, I swear you were a trembling mess when you were almost caught the last time.”
The last time? You mentally ask yourself, and Sunghoon seems to notice your confused expression as he slowly starts moving again.
“Don’t you remember?” His question holds a hint of tease. “In the storeroom?”
You widen your eyes at his words; so it was not the school custodian that almost caught you hooking up with a guy… it was Sunghoon.
“Do you think I’ve missed the obviously fake moans as that pathetic Gryffindor fucked you in there?”
He starts moving faster, letting out a groan as your pussy tightens at the change of speed. Your mouth remains agape as you listen to his words.
“Do you really think I didn’t see you trying to use a disillusionment spell to hide from me?” He asks, not earning an answer from you, too busy at moaning at how good he’s fucking you.
“Too bad, sweetheart.” He grabs one of your legs before bringing it on his shoulder, pounding into you deeper as your eyes roll back your head in pleasure. “I saw everything… your cute little pussy looked so pretty even in the dark… fuck!”
He angles his hips slightly, the small action making you shake as his cock immediately hits your sweet spot.
“Do you have any idea how many times I dreamed of this pussy? How I fucking touched myself thinking about you?”
You never thought you could hear such a confession from Sunghoon, his words making you cry out even more. How come he always thought these things of you when you’ve always seen him so distant and unbothered?
“Fuck, keep quiet, sweetheart.”
You’re thankful the library is almost empty, but you still can’t risk to get caught. However, Sunghoon is not doing a good job at keeping you silent as he purposely switches his speed, making you whine loudly.
“I said quiet.”
His large hand suddenly finds your neck, your eyes widening as he stares down at you with a devilish smirk. Your pussy swallows him deeper and tighter as you feel your breath become more laboured.
“Want it faster, sweetheart?”
You immediately nod in eagerness, and he complies as his movements become more erratic. The veins on his neck become more evident as he tries to remain silent but he can’t help himself as you suddenly squeeze him tighter.
That makes him stop, taking some deep breaths as his hand leave your neck.
“You little minx…” he chuckles, before grabbing you by the hips. “Come here.”
He moves away from you, sitting down on the chair as he widens his legs for you sit on them. The sight is absolutely mesmerising, and you waste no time as you sit on his lap.
He helps you when he notices the trembling of your legs, grabbing the soft flesh of your ass as he starts leaving wet kisses on your jaw.
You grab the base of his cock, coating it with your slick as you slowly go down on it, the stretch less comfortable than before but still amazing. He moans against your skin, meant for only you to hear as his hands grab you tighter.
“Sunghoon…” you keep moaning his name like a mantra before he moves away from you, his eyes locked where your bodies meet before taking a deep breath.
“Up and down, just like that, fuuuuck.” He guides you with his hands, before meeting your eyes again.
“Such pretty eyes for a little brat, mhmmm.”
You feel shy under his gaze but you can’t tear your eyes away from his dark ones as they stare into yours, so full of lust and passion you rarely saw in any guy you’ve been with.
He notices your movements becoming more unsteady, your legs tired from moving so much. “Want me to fuck into you, sweetheart?”
You nod enthusiastically, his hands grabbing your hips tight as your arms are around his neck. He immediately starts his assault on your pussy, fucking into it fast and hard from below as wet sounds echo around you.
“Sunghoon, fuck fuck fuck! That’s so fucking good!”
At this point you don’t even care if Mrs Scribner is going to find you. Hell, even Peeves could be here, watching you, but you don’t give a damn. You’ve never felt so good before, his entire body making you feel so much pleasure you’ve never felt before.
“Fuck sweetheart, you’re getting tighter…” he moans, your pussy pulsing violently as you try your best to keep yourself from cumming. You feel like Sunghoon would be the type to let you come only on his permission.
“Please… please– fuck!”
“Want to cum for me, sweetheart?” He asks and you nod, your lips trembling as if you’re about to cry. “Fucking do it then, cum on my cock.”
You didn’t think someone’s words could hold so much power over you, but the very moment Sunghoon lets them out, you instantly feel a sense of relief as your body spams in utter pleasure, your orgasm washing you completely.
Strings of his name leave your mouth as you cum on his cock, eyes staring into his. He’s still fucking into you, more slowly, more temptingly as he coos at your fucked out state, kissing your head as it drops against his shoulder.
“Such a good girl…” You whine at his praise, your hips weakly rotating as a way to make him cum. He’s so close, especially after restraining himself for so long, and his deep moans give it away.
Yours is a sensual movement, your lips leaving a trail of small kisses on his cheek as his breath becomes more laboured. “Cum for me, Sunghoon…”
It’s not a beg, yet Sunghoon can hear the need in your tone as you say it.
“Fuck… get on your knees, sweetheart.”
You immediately do as he says, dropping on your knees as he starts stroking his cock fast. He stares at your face, focused on every little detail, as you lock eyes with him -- silently begging for his cum.
“Fuckfuckfuck Y/N… open your mouth, fuck!”
It takes a few seconds before your mouth gets filled with his cum, so thick against your tongue as you swallow every last drop, his fist still beating his cock as he wastes none of his seamen and pours it inside your mouth.
His body falls limp on the chair, trying to catch his breath as a small chuckle leaves your lips. You get up from the floor, meeting his eyes again as you notice a small smile appearing on his face and you kiss it away without a second thought.
“Brat,” he murmurs against your lips, his voice is barely a whisper.
The next moments are spent in silence as you take care of the mess around you, nothing a Reparo spell can’t fix.
“Uuuh, Sunghoon?” you call out his name, making him perk up in curiosity. “I can’t find my panties.”
He looks around, his eyes quickly searching for them before shaking his head. “I don’t see them anywhere.”
You let out a sigh, which earns a chuckle from him as he affectionately fixes your hair, trying to make you look more decent. You murmur a soft ‘thank you’, before helping him fix his Ravenclaw tie.
While you do so, he lets out a snicker. “A love potion, pfft.”
You look at him confused, before he talks again.
“What a stupid excuse to get fucked.” He laughs, making you roll your eyes before chuckling as well. “This is the help you needed, huh?”
You would be a fool to deny it. But maybe you wouldn’t have accepted it if the person wasn’t Sunghoon — especially now that he ended up being the greatest fuck you’ve ever had.
If only the others knew… what kind of person their dearest Ravenclaw prefect was. They probably wouldn’t believe any of your words, if you told anyone what just happened.
Except, well, Sunoo.
So you waste no time in parting your ways from Sunghoon – he thought it was a better idea to leave the library alone – to tell your precious best friend about your latest success. Did he really have any doubt you could win the bet?
Meanwhile, Sunghoon can’t help the grin appearing on his face as he watches you leave, sending him a cheeky wink as a goodbye.
He can’t wait to see you again, but for now he has to settle with your panties he not-so-innocently stole.
Blue is his colour, after all.
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