#imagine the slap in the face it must have been for my uncle | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

no-droids · 4 years

Text

Mercy, Sabotage, and Dead Space

(gif credit to @redwyyne-archive)

Part One of The Bet series

Pairing: Poe Dameron/Reader

Rating: Explicit

Word Count: 12.7K

Summary:

1. No sex.

2. No touching yourself.

3. No orgasms.

Warnings/Tags: DUBCON/NONCON elements, fuckboy Poe (OOC), Enemies to Lovers, degradation/humiliation, mentions of oral sex, SMUUUTTTTTTTT also I’m not sorry for what I did but you’re not allowed to read if you’re gonna get mad at me okay byeeee

***

This.

This shit, right here.

If the question was ever, “What’s the stupidest fucking thing you’ve ever let Poe Dameron somehow talk you into doing?” then the answer is this stupid shit, right the fuck here. This is like. You remember that one game, Mercy? The one where you’d dig your nails in and twist arms and just needlessly inflict pain on each other as children until one of you cried uncle because someone somewhere once decided to turn torture into a matter of pride?

You always thought those games were fucking ridiculous. Who can hold their breath the longest, who can handle a lit deathstick against their flesh the longest, who can take the hardest punch—who cares? It’s child’s play. It’s self-inflicted agony for the sake of bragging rights and even as a youngling, you refused to fall for it.

But then you met… fucking Dameron.

You know those people that… they don’t just rub you the wrong way, but literally every single aspect about their personality is sandpaper against wet skin and your whole entire being feels chafed raw just by existing in their general vicinity for an extended period of time?

You’re… you’re not usually a competitive—much less aggressive person. You never have been. It’s just not part of your nature. If you ever excel at anything in life, it isn’t because of some secret, deep-seated desire to win or be better than anyone else. You just… do you. You do whatever you do, and if it’s good, it’s good. And if it’s bad, it’s good. Because at the end of the day at least it’s still you, and you’re okay with that.

But this?

This shit? Right here?

“This is fucking dumb,” you say, because you know it’s what you both must be thinking so you may as well just get it out in the open. “This is the dumbest fucking thing, Dameron. What are we doing? Why are we doing this?”

The grumpy, orange-jumpsuited figure sitting behind you just sighs heavily and slumps even further down in his bucket seat, as if it isn’t the first time you’ve tried asking this incredibly valid question (it totally is), bringing a palm down to thunk the top of the guidance controls between his legs in a quiet irritation you’re almost certain has everything to do with the very topic you’re trying to bring up.

“Because,” comes that infuriating drawl. You can only see his face from this angle by looking at his reflection in the transparisteel barrier directly in front of you, but even just imagining the way his mouth moves while he rounds out the words makes your jaw clench. “The coordinates we picked up were scrambled and this rendezvous could be going down at any one of thirty-six locat—?”

“No,” you interrupt him with a scowl, “not why I’ve been floating in dead space in this Maker-forsaken ship with you for eight fucking hours a day since… fuck, what’s today? Thursday? Friday? Nope, can’t be Friday, Friday’s our off-day. Thursday, then. …Thursday?” You shake your head. “Ugh, see? Time doesn’t exist when I’m not allowed to cum, life is like one never-ending nightmare.”

“Oh.” He takes a second to think about it in silence, the calloused tips of his fingers scratching the side of his face while he considers. It wouldn’t usually be as loud as it is right now. Maybe it’s the haunting quiet of space surrounding the ancient powered down hunk of metal you’re both stuck in, inadvertently isolating and amplifying the sound—or maybe it’s because your copilot’s jaw is currently covered in a thick, dark beard that you swear barely took his testosterone-overloaded ass a fucking week or two to grow, if that. Regardless, the dark bristles crunch loudly under his short fingernails and it takes you about a grand total of five whole uninterrupted seconds of the scraping sound to realize you’re grinding your teeth along with it. “Well,” he finally says, “that was your stupid idea.”

“Hmmmmmmmno,” you contest firmly, wiggling your elbow back to poke at his shin with your index finger once, twice, thrice, until he finally slaps your hand away in quiet irritation. To the misfortune of you both—and likely the other hundred or so pilots concurrently taking rotating shifts in these tandem x-wings in a glorified mass stakeout, the cockpit of this ship is just way too fucking small. Your arm is squeezed uncomfortably against machinery and electronics to get to him from this angle and a light slap isn’t going to stop you now that you’re here. “You—” (poke) “—have a superiority complex and decided to turn it into a competition, not—” (poke) “—me.”

“Oh, I have a superiority complex, okay,” he scowls and nods in vehement, fake agreement, finally giving up and letting you poke at will, but the appeal is lost as soon as you realize he’s over it and your arm eases back into your lap. You watch his reflection look out of the viewport and scan the empty void of space for the twentieth time in the past five minutes, clearly just as desperate to get back to base as you are. “So what is it you call saying—wait, no no, not even saying, loudly declaring—‘Of course I can go longer without sex than “wham bam thank you ma’am” Dameron, you brainless fucks, it’s a simple fact!’”

“Alright—I don’t sound like that, fuck you very much,” you return, in reference to his shrieking, high-pitched impression of you surrounded by your fellow pilots in the rec room when you’ve had a bit too much to drink. “Also, you don’t have to finger-quote literally every single syllable of my fucking sentence, Dameron. First and last word, that’s all it takes. And if it’s so superiority complex-ey of me to state simple facts, then what is it you call saying ‘betcha two weeks worth of pay you can’t, pretty baby’?”

“Uh, easy credits?” He immediately asks, side-eyeing your reflection through the transparisteel. “ Easy credits. Just begging for it. Two weeks of your slutty, sexy, easy fucking credits just begging to be taken and used— ”

“You need to get laid,” you cut in to tell him bluntly, scrunching your nose in what you hope looks like disgust. As per protocol, the power to the x-wing was cut at the beginning of your shift—what feels like a fucking eternity ago—as a preventative maneuver in case the target falls out of hyperspace unexpectedly. Avoiding the scanners of a fleet that may never actually show means it’s cold and dimly lit in here—just starlight in front of either you, but you’re hoping he can gauge the severity of your revulsion with your back to him. “You just turned my money into a sex object. It was vile. I feel violated on its behalf.”

“Sounds like you’re the one who needs to get laid,” he tosses carelessly back at you, and you roll your eyes with as much sass as you can physically muster, so tired of all the dodging. You know this hasn’t been easy for him either, he just has too much pride to admit it. “Besides, you’ve gotta be past the withdrawal stage by now. Is it really all that bad?”

“The fuck you mean, ‘Is it really all that bad’?” You snap at him, shuffling around grumpily in your seat, hating the way the bulky weapons controls sit right between your thighs and prevent you from closing them. Withdrawal stage, ha. “Of course it’s all that bad. It’s horrible. It’s the fucking worst. And more importantly, how are you not having any trouble with this? Oh, wait—that’s right,” you answer yourself before he has a chance to. “Because you cheated.”

“I did not cheat,” Dameron’s reflection immediately challenges with an accusatory finger pointed at you. “I did not. When the fuck did I cheat? I swapped housing assignments with your shitty roommate and slept in the bunk below yours for a month and a half—all because you don’t believe in the honor system—just so you could tell me I fucking cheated?”

You scoff, feeling your annoyance spark even more. He’s always been able to get under your skin, but the neglect you’ve been forcing your body to endure is just throwing gasoline on an already roaring fire. “Okay, first of all? Rude. I am a fucking joy to have as a roomie, alright? I put up with your snoring, your 2:00 AM dinners, you blasting your radio while I’m trying to sleep, I barely complain about your body odor—”

“My snoring is adorable, I get snacky at night, only sad people with fucked up lives hate music, I smell amazing,” Dameron casually lists off on his fingers, the self-confidence so easy and unshakeable that you swear he’s almost preening at the compliments he just gave himself by the time he’s finished rebutting everything you can think to throw at him. And, while you’d never admit it, he does smell good. He smells… unbelievably fucking good. Always. Something dark and woodsy, you can never quite put your finger on. It pisses you off, so much that you’ve made a habit of pulling a face of disgust whenever the warm, rich scent noticeably reaches you, hoping it deflates his ego just a little bit. No such luck so far.

“Whatever. The point is I’m a good fucking neighbor, alright, I’m neighborly as fuck,” you grumble, crossing your arms over your chest defensively. “And don’t make it sound like I’m putting a chastity lock on your balls every night, because you can fuck anyone you want. In fact, I strongly fucking encourage it—I just want to know about it when it happens.”

Dameron smirks and you groan, already knowing what’s coming. “You wanna hear it?”

Yep, there it is. “Second of all—”

“Feel the whole bunk rock with it?” He goes on, completely ignoring you. “Use the excuse that you’re trapped up top so you can just stay there the whole time and listen? You know you can do a lot more than just—”

“Second of all,” you project over him, “you’re seriously telling me you haven’t had any wet dreams then, hm? No snorgasms? Hmmm? No happy naps? No captain midnights? No mattress fracking? Hmmmmmm???”

His voice very quickly sounds… shocked. “How many fucking euphemisms—?”

“Wait wait, one more—” you quickly interrupt, too much momentum to stop now, “—sleepskeet.”

You watch in immense satisfaction as his expression seems to progress through all five stages of grief, before he exhales a long, unamused sigh and scratches his beard again. You want to pluck each strand of it out of his face one by one. “Anyways. Wet dreams are totally different and don’t count.”

“It’s not different!” You burst out, unable to help yourself, “it’s an orgasm, and rule number three is no orgas—”

“I know what the rules were, Gold-Ten,” he returns calmly, and it infuriates you, how he’s always able to make it seem like you’re the instigator who’s overreacting. And he knows exactly what he’s doing by calling you by your flight designation, and it pisses you off even more because calling him Black-Leader in any other situation besides active warfare just feels like an unnecessary reminder of his skills. Why he’s currently behind you manning the guidance controls and why you’re currently stuck in the front seat with the bulkier weapons systems. “The question is if you’re seriously that bad enough of a sport to automatically disqualify me because of something that happens to any human with a dick indiscriminately when we blueball ourselves.”

“But that’s the entire fucking point, Dameron!” You shrill, throwing your hands in the air in pure exasperation. “There it is! You need it more than I do, you just said it yourself! Not to mention I said I can go longer without sex than you can— sex , not orgasms, but as it turns out I win at both. Now can we please call this shit off so I can finally cum? This isn’t fun anymore.”

“Nope,” he says immediately, popping the P with a bit too much hard emphasis to be genuinely amused. He’s frustrated, too—his voice is too pleased, too fake to not be masking irritation underneath. “Sorry. But this was also your stupid idea, so.”

“You’re insufferable,” you grumble, anger flaring equal to his, just way more… verbal. And descriptive. “Wet dreams don’t count, fucking right. Tell that to the oceans of Kamino I got going on down there, huh? I move on this seat wrong and I’ll slide off it—”

A loud slam of a palm against the controls suddenly echoes throughout the small cockpit, causing you to jump slightly.

“Don’t,” Dameron snarls, “... say shit like that to me. Not right now. Not right now, fuck .”

You go quiet for a moment, not expecting that much of an outburst at something you considered to be a throwaway remark, but then… oh. Something occurs to you, something… sinister. Oh, well, now there’s an idea.

Everything inside you immediately surges up and burns at the thought—the mere whisper of a way out of all of this, quickly, without giving in and letting him hold your surrender over you for Maker knows how long. It’s so fucking simple, you don’t know why you didn’t think of it before. You don’t have to wait him out at all; instead, you just need to… entice him into giving in first.

Neither of you say anything for a while, and you don’t know what he’s thinking (nothing, probably—a dry tumbleweed bouncing across an empty desert landscape, you imagine) but you take the dip in conversation to consider a plan. You can’t go at it too outright, it’ll be too big of a turnaround and he’ll see it coming lightyears away. A halfhearted joke about your pussy tossed out without thinking is what catalyzed the most substantial reaction from him you’ve seen, so… maybe you can keep steering the conversation towards the idea.

“How many wet dreams have you had?” You suddenly ask, your heart beginning to pick up in your chest as soon as the words are out of your mouth.

“Excuse me?” Dameron grunts from behind you, and you catch his reflection raising a thick eyebrow at you.

You take a deep breath and disguise it by stretching your back out just a little bit, lifting your shoulder blades and arching the sore muscles there, before settling back down in your normal crappy posture once more. “Now many times did you cum in your sleep? Had to at least been once for you to claim they don’t count.”

“Why does it matter?” He asks, completely sidestepping the question for the second time. “It was involuntary.”

You shrug. “Just so I know how many freebies I can get tonight.”

“No,” Dameron instantly counters, his voice dead serious. “Not fucking allowed.”

“Why not?” You ask, and this time, there’s significantly less challenge than you’d typically deliver it with. Instead, your voice is soft, questioning. Not argumentative, but curious, and there’s just enough of your point left unsaid that it’ll seem like he conjured the rest of the image himself.

There’s silence while he considers his response to the perfectly executed bait. You assume you’re both picturing the same thing, because it’s what you’ve pictured almost every single night spent in this celibate hellscape. The cool darkness of your shared quarters, the standard-issue sheets that still feel crispy and rough on your skin no matter how many nights you’ve slept in them, with one of your hands pressed tight over your mouth and two of your fingers circle your clit.

“You only get to do it if I’m in the room,” he poses instead, and you swallow thickly, feeling your body tighten with an unintentional drop of pure heat through your tummy at the thought. Maker, it must be really bad if Poe fucking Dameron is getting to you like this. The bane of your existence shouldn’t make your insides twist in on themselves—at least, not in a good way.

“Not like I’d have much choice,” you eventually respond, keeping it purposefully ambiguous. “It’s your room, too. Unfortunately.”

Stars, it’s been so long since you’ve done this, since you’ve walked the fine line between flirtation and seduction, wanting to turn on the charm slowly—gradually ease it up like a hyperdrive lever under your fingertips so that you’re at maximum by the time he realizes you’re even there. You take a moment to glance at his reflection, watching Dameron look back at you curiously, a flash of interest in his eyes.

“By the way, how does that one girl feel about us doing this?” You ask out of nowhere, suddenly remembering the existence of his pretty little number. You’ve seen her under his arm around base at least a few times, which is more than you can say for the rest of them. “Red-Six. Tall brunette with the tattoos—I don’t bother learning names, they all come and go.”

“Nihla,” Dameron nods with a wistful sigh, tilting his head to rest against his shoulder. “Or, wait… Neah. No—it was… Nalal. Yeah, Nalal, I think that’s right…”

“Unbelievable,” you mutter. “One of the greatest mysteries of the universe is how many people get in line for you, I’ll never fucking understand it.”

“They just want me for my cock,” he tells you without missing a single beat, sounding like he’s not joking in the slightest. “It was starting to get obnoxious. Glad I finally have an excuse to turn them down.”

“Unbelievable,” you repeat, stunned by how truly, mind-blowingly full of himself he is. “You’re… fucking…”

You end up just staring at him and making a sound somewhere between a laugh and a scoff, at a complete loss for words, and Dameron eventually shrugs and continues on after you fail to form a coherent thought in the allotted time frame he provides.

“Now I can just tell them I’m in a long-running bet with Gold-Ten over who can sexually deprive themselves the longest and weirdly enough, they don’t seem all that interested anymore,” he remarks, tilting his chin up and rubbing at his beard again, and for some reason… the sound of it bothers you somewhat less now, the way he phrased that resonating deeper inside you than it should. Lower than it should. You blink a few times, almost shocked by your body’s unprecedented response to his admission—Poe Dameron uses you as an excuse to turn down sex with pretty girls? Happily?—and your mind goes blank for a second while he watches you through the transparisteel. “It’s alright,” he eventually goes on, tilting his head. “Sometimes a sabbatical is good. I do really miss pussy, though.”

“Well,” you finally tell him, oddly not having much else to offer at the moment. “I’m sorry? And… you’re welcome. I guess.”

Dameron shrugs once more and makes an apathetic sound without opening his mouth, and you drop your stare down to the machinery between your spread thighs after feeling like you were looking at each other for too long. The position started uncomfortable and seven hours later, it’s still fucking uncomfortable. At first the discomfort twinged at your hips and lower back, but now the sensation seems to be… centering itself a bit more, finding a spot right between your legs, especially when his words echo through your subconscious and make you naturally want to push your thighs together. I do really miss pussy, though.

You try to snap out of it a bit, try to stop hyperfixating on the way your underwear has felt sticky and wet for fucking hours now, but it’s so fucking difficult to chill yourself out when your body already went into this whole situation with a month and a half long stumbling block. He’s not really doing anything at all—he’s leant back in his chair and staring out the window into the black emptiness of space when you steal a look once more, but something about how his casual responses are affecting you makes it seem like he’s the one currently seducing you.

Maker, you have to focus. You have to control yourself. You’re starting to feel a little warm in your thick jumpsuit—a particular shade of orange that does not compliment your complexion but you normally rejoice in wearing regardless. It’s baggy and uniform and hides most of your curves and most importantly, it keeps you toasty on missions like this. Space is cold —especially this far out in the Cauper Void, and there’s no fucking reason this powered down hunk of floating metal should feel as muggy and stifling as it does in here.

“We shouldn’t be doing this,” you suddenly hear yourself say, spontaneously, no thought put into it whatsoever. One last try, one last attempt to avoid it, a last-ditch go at flight before he gives you no choice and you’re left with this one remaining option. “This isn’t a good idea. It’s… not healthy. I don’t want to do this anymore.”

This gets a small chuckle out of him. “I know you don’t, pretty baby.”

“Then let’s just call the whole thing off,” you propose once again, trying to lighten your tone, make it a… a friendly thing. It sounds so fake, even to your own ears—since when would you be desperate enough to let the dreaded petname slide?—but granted, you know what they say about time and measures and all that shit. “We can call it a tie, just go back to the way things were befo—”

He cuts you off and pins you with his gaze through the reflection. “You realize that you begging me to put an end to your suffering is—ridiculously hot, mostly—but also only an incentive to make me keep pushing until you finally give in?”

You groan and comb some of your hair off your forehead, not liking the way it’s getting just the slightest bit damp. “Fine, we won’t call it off, but can we at least just stop—” You immediately catch yourself, not wanting to unintentionally push this too far too quickly, but your hesitation is clear and compelling enough for him to prompt you.

“At least just stop what?” Dameron asks, and though you don’t think it’s intentional or even noticeable from his perspective, something about the way his voice sounds… husky. Low to the ground.

“Stop dragging it out,” you breathe, your heart pounding. Why is your heart pounding so fucking fast? This is a fucking sting op, a facade, so why are you getting so caught up in the lie you’ve spun for yourself? “Finish it. Sooner, rather than later. Quit being masochists about it, just fucking put it to—”

Maker, your eyes instinctively snap to his at your poor choice of wording, having almost said bed on complete accident. Genuinely, you didn’t mean to phrase it that way, but at the same time, the thought of it almost burns you alive. Fuck. Dameron, and you, in bed. It could be mean. It could be rough. A fight for dominance more than anything. He’s bigger than you and he could make it fucking hurt, especially after going without it for as long as you have, but something about how double-edged that type of relief would be isn’t really sinking in for you right now. Like a person slowly dying of thirst that’s fantasizing about drowning. Regardless, the idea of a night with him and the sudden assortment of vivid imagery it provides is enough to get you to shut up and take a deep breath, just wait with your mouth shut for whatever his response is.

Unfortunately, you don’t have to wait long at all.

“This is cute,” he suddenly tells you, and you jerk back and sputter a bunch of consonants stupidly like he smacked you.

“Fuck you?” Are the first recognizable words that can be heard. “I’m not—this isn’t fucking— cute?”

“It’s cute,” Dameron repeats, hiding a soft smile from you with a few of his fingers pressed to his lips. “You,” he says as he points at your reflection, twirling his finger around in circles, “trying to be all sneaky about it, go about your little performance. It’s like… watching a little kid just blatantly fuck up a magic trick but they’re naive enough to think it’s working. Keep going, I’m enthralled.”

You hold still for just a second as ice suddenly sinks through your tummy and clears away any trace of warmth you may have once felt from before. Of course. Stupid. Stupid, you shouldn’t have even tried something like that, you don’t know why you thought…

Horrifyingly, you go dead silent and the lack of an immediate response from you hangs awkwardly in the still air. You’re usually so quick with him, so fiery, letting the things he throws at you just glide right off you, but for some insane reason, you’re actually fucking… embarrassed? A little bit?

You should say something, but your whole body is just frustratingly blank, almost buzzing in mortification, and it gets worse and worse the longer you stay quiet. You don’t usually put yourself in a position to be compromised, and you certainly didn’t think the place he decided to jab this time had particularly thin skin.

You… you’d forgotten what it’s like to have someone laugh at you when you’re genuinely trying your best to flirt.

Well, it’s too late to say anything now, you think. Now it’s just uncomfortable in here—true discomfort, not the typical angry silences. You’re used to that, you’re used to huffing and crossing your arms and ticking your jaw through the breaks in conversation, refusing to say a word because you’re beyond pissed off. This is different. This quiet sits different in the air, this emotion hits different in your chest, somewhere vulnerable. A crack in your armor he found without even necessarily intending to, but at this point, the stupid way you can’t seem to hide the wound from him is just as much to blame.

“So, uh…” Dameron clears his throat as you shut your eyes tight against the awkwardness, but you can still feel a strange little shift in the air from behind you. There’s something about the enclosed space, the quiet darkness surrounding you both, you feel… too close to him. Sharing his air, feeling the energy when it’s cramped and you’re not able to just get up and storm away from him like normal. You don’t like it. You don’t like that you can immediately tell something has changed without being able to see him, that type of intimacy between you is pushing a boundary you can’t quite pinpoint but know exists.

You snap your eyes open and look over at Dameron’s reflection when he’s quiet for too long, and though you try to glare as fiercely as possible at him while you do it, the look on his face almost stops you dead. The pure intensity raging in his expression, the way he’s got his eyes narrowed, flicking back and forth between yours, carefully studying you, wondering if perhaps he may have gotten it all wrong. “I mean, y’know. Theoretically speaking, and all. If I broke, you’d let me fuck you?”

You… aren’t expecting that.

You don’t know why but your heart suddenly starts to race again, but it’s not the same as before. Before it was speeding up and at an angle, like a rocket trying to escape a body’s gravitational pull, to go somewhere, search for something. This time it just feels like it’s ricketing downhill, unsteady and out of control, about to break apart with every single pothole that rattles and slams through you. Shit. You didn’t expect the ultimatum would be presented to you so up front like that—you thought there’d be… some resistance, at least.

Fuck, you take way too fucking long thinking about it, and your face feels warmer and warmer the more you mentally pick apart his specific phrasing, wondering where you should even begin. You still haven’t said anything, but the damage is already done. What should've been a firm, instantaneous go fuck yourself is left suspended, unanswered, open for interpretation. You miss your window of opportunity to shut him down, you overshoot it by a longshot, and then you feel that spark of a what-if flare deep down once more.

No, fucking stop it. Stop it. Maker, your eyes do everything they can to not look at him while you concentrate and work to tap into your anger, stoking the flames of your fire to avoid feeling… temptation. How dare he? How fucking dare he do this to you, especially when there’s no chance to get out of here, to abort mission and cut your losses? You clench your jaw and isolate that fury, magnify it until it’s the only thing you can feel anymore.

“My turn now,” Dameron eventually breaks the silence to clarify, blinking at you, and by this point you’re so fucking pissed off that you don’t recognize that isn’t actually a question.

“No,” you immediately snap, strung far too thin to deal with this new, treacherous territory with him. Defaulting to normal is best, it’s easier. “No, it’s not your turn, and fuck no, you can’t fuck me, not even if it means I win this stupid bet. No to everything that has anything to fucking do with you, alright? Don’t talk to me. You’re lucky if I agree to sleep in the same fucking room as you tonight. And—and?—I think your beard looks dumb.”

Okay, so maybe the last part was just a little bit childish, but you’re in such a bad fucking mood and you want to insult something he’s clearly just trying out for right now, hasn’t yet solidified as part of his usual appearance and unshakeable confidence in it. It’s a downright lie—you think he might look more attractive with it than he ever has. Effortlessly rugged and masculine, framing his face and making his eyes all the more piercing.

You don’t think it works, but regardless, he heeds your sharp words and says nothing for a good few minutes at least. You had hoped the break in interaction would allow you the ability to reset a little bit, give yourself time to work through it, but it’s like the pressure in the air steadily increases regardless of how silent it is in here—or perhaps, because of it.

You can’t help it. You flick your eyes to the transparisteel in front of you once more and catch his reflection staring directly at you, unmoving. It jars you as much as it sparks your anger, and you glare down at your hands and give him a few seconds. A few seconds of grace, of mercy, before you try again.

Sure enough, he’s still got his dark eyes pinned to you when you go to check once more, like he’s actually fucking thinking about something right now, which is just… astounding, for obvious reasons. Mainly, the nerve of him. The fucking nerve of him to be able to look at you like that, like he’s just entitled to study your every feature, searching your eyes for things you’ve never looked deep enough to find within yourself, making incredibly loud assumptions with his mind that he has absolutely no right to be making.

“Shut up,” You snap at him defensively, feeling like you’re sweating buckets even in the freezing emptiness of dead space. You can’t figure out if it’s a cold sweat or if your body is legitimately just malfunctioning under his stare. “Shut up.”

You watch as his reflection suddenly drops his head back against the seat and rolls out the stiffness of his neck, blinking his eyes shut and raising his eyebrows like you’re completely overreacting, like he has absolutely no idea. “I didn’t say anything.”

“You’re not that dumb,” you challenge. “You’re… plotting. Evil plotting.”

A thick eyebrow drops so that only one is quirked up, and a grin pulls at his lips.

“You’re right,” Dameron admits casually after a moment with his eyes still closed, his voice pitched low in the cramped ship. “I was thinking about what it’s gonna take to get you to lose.”

You swallow against the dryness in your throat, starting to unintentionally bounce one of your legs up and down without even realizing it. Fuck, this ship is small, it’s too fucking small in here—you gaze wistfully out at the vast endlessness of space, wanting to grit your teeth at the irony of being surrounded by the one thing you so desperately wish you had.

“I just have to find a weakness,” he shifts forward in his seat and reveals to you, bewilderingly shameless in his honesty. Like all of a sudden you’re an accomplice to this endeavor instead of its target, as if he isn’t spoiling the secret by letting you in on it. “Something that you like, that gets you going. Something that riles you up, gets you all hot and bothered down there—”

“So you can exploit it,” you huff, slouching over a bit and trying not to sound like you’re pouting.

“—so I can exploit it,” he finishes happily, collapsing back into his seat like he’s glad you caught on so quick and he doesn’t have to explain further. “Now we can do the whole routine—the bickering, the tension, the undeniable sexual chemistry we have—or we can skip all that and you can just tell me flat out what it’s gonna take to rev that pretty little engine up, because I want it purring.”

And, it’s so fucking weird, because the specific verbiage that would normally make you cringe just hearing it spoken aloud doesn’t inspire the typical response, even though it feels like it should. It feels like you should be grossed out, it feels like a moment you should screw up your facial expression and act offended, but you’re… not. This is actually fucking working, it’s unbelievable. The undeniable fact infuriates you just as much as it stumps you.

“You do realize that everything you say is a game that two can play at, right?” You point out, not really sure where you’re going with this but feeling heated about it all the same. “What’s stopping me from exploiting something you like?”

“See now that’s a great idea,” Dameron announces, clapping his hands together happily and sending you jumping a few inches in your seat at the sudden sound, your hand automatically shooting up to rest on your thumping heart. “I can tell you what I like, and you can just listen.”

Alright, no, wait—backtrack—

“How about I tell you what I don’t like,” you snip breathlessly, tucking your hair behind your ear and feeling all the blood rush to your cheeks. Default to normal, default to normal. “Your fucking attitude. Your demeanor. The way you talk down to me. You don’t listen. You walk around like you’re such hot shit just because you’re a good pilot but none of that means anything when you don’t ever fucking listen. You’re terrible at it, doesn’t matter who’s talking—you don’t listen to me, you don’t listen to people who actually like you, you don’t listen to orders, you don’t listen to reason—”

“You think I’m a good pilot?” He suddenly asks, and you have to take a second. This cockpit isn’t designed for anything other than sitting, much less turning all the way around, but you’re sure you can find some way to throttle him from here. He chuckles as you let out the loudest sigh you’ve ever heard yourself make—which, is an incredible feat you think both of you should be congratulated for—before Dameron eventually carries on. “You could tell me that,” he admits with a shrug, a hidden smile on his face that he’s trying to bite back. “Or you could tell me the truth.”

You shouldn’t encourage him, but you just can’t fucking help it. There’s something inside you, something you can only compare to a morbid sort of curiosity. Maybe you’re just a glutton for punishment, even more so than agreeing to this bet has already confirmed. “And that would be—?”

“That you use anger as a defense mechanism because I touch a nerve you didn’t realize you had,” Dameron replies breezily. “Have since the moment we met. And that you maybe want me to touch something else, but you’re too stubborn and proud and committed to hating me to ever admit it. You can admit it, it’s okay, I can touch whatever you need me to tou—”

“How about the emergency eject button?” You hiss, finally feeling your frustration peak. “Pop the top on this bitch. Put me out of my fucking misery, right now. You’ve got such a big head that the blood flow will probably keep your tiny little brain warm enough as long as you strap yourself down beforehand, I’ll wait. And then you can go back to base, alone , and find another poor girl to emotionally torture since you probably don’t get enough of it from the ones you work your way through but can never remember the most basic things about.”

Remarkably, that actually shuts him up. You’re doubtful the jab really hurts him, but you’re not going to feel bad about it either way. He deserved that. You cross your arms over your chest and don’t even bother looking at him, huffing and flushed with the climax of your ferocity, now left feeling strangely exhausted in its wake. Eventually your breathing evens out and disappears into the silence, until nothing at all can be heard.

It’s like that for a moment—only a moment, before the loud tearing of velcro suddenly shreds through the quiet in the cockpit, completely rattling you. Automatically your eyes shoot over to his reflection, watching large hands pull the orange jumpsuit apart at his chest and then shrug it over broad shoulders. It’s not sexual. It can’t be sexual, because there’s just no fucking room to allow it—it takes him forever to pull the long sleeves down his arms, but the way he drags it out somehow just increases your anticipation for an event you should have absolutely no interest in spectating. He’s wearing a white sleeveless undershirt underneath and the jumpsuit bunches at his waist, making him look all the longer and more defined as he finally collapses back into his seat and reclines in it, the distant constellations bathing his lean torso in dim speckles of starlight.

Your gaze catches on every good part of him—it falls down the muscular lines of his neck and follows the thin gold chain wrapped around it, disappearing into the white of his scooping neckline. His toned body finds a place to rest and stretch out without looking awkward or uncomfortable, coarse hair darkening his jaw and dusting the strong lines of his forearms—but it’s his eyes that make your heart stutter. They’re endlessly deep and dark and knowing , and you can’t seem to look away from him, not even when he opens his mouth to address you.

“You’re always so fucking mean to me,” Dameron remarks, and for just a split second—just a split second, you feel a stab of regret. “I should eat you out tonight.”

Fuck, he hits the nail right on the head on his very first try, and just hearing the words come out of his mouth so effortlessly makes your pussy clench in on itself in need. Nothing about his inflection changed from one sentence to the next, nothing in his voice made it seem like he just flipped the fucking galaxy upside down with just a few words. To an onlooker who doesn’t speak Basic, they’d have absolutely no hint as to why your face is suddenly radiating heat at an industrial capacity, blazing hot enough to warm the whole cockpit. You feel like you’re literally burning up with it. You have to put a palm to your cheek to make sure it’s not actually on fucking fire. “What— what did you just say to me?”

“That’s what you need,” he drawls, unbothered by the sharpness of your tone. “What you’ve needed, ever since I can remember. Should’ve done it a long fucking time ago, now that I’m thinking about it. How long’s it been? Tell me the truth, I know it’s been awhile.”

You feel like you’re being roasted alive like one of those hairy little Kowakian monkey-lizards that you’re pretty sure have sentient designation but are the first to be skewered and cooked over the firepit regardless. Your heart is slamming against your sternum and you scramble to come up with an even slightly clever response after such an ambush.

“This is your plan?” You raise an eyebrow at him, feeling a bead of sweat drop down your temple and onto the corner of your lashes. Oh fuck, be cool, be cool. “You think this is gonna work? Ask me if I want a weak orgasm and rugburn on my thighs?”

“I can shave,” Dameron proposes quietly, lifting his chin and gently scrubbing the side of his cheek. The sound of the thick bristles against his fingers makes you swallow thickly and push back very vivid thoughts of how his face would feel between your legs. How soft and wet his mouth would feel at the center of that thick, coarse beard. “Tonight, I’ll shave it off. Make it nice and smooth for you.”

Something inside you surges up to assure him he absolutely should not shave, and you actually have to bite your tongue to keep it buried at the last second. Stars, that was a close one, what the fuck prompted that?

“I don’t give a shit what you do,” you quickly return, resisting the urge to wipe your brow. “Beard or no beard, makes no difference. Foreplay is overrated, I’m not big on wasting time.”

“Oh, you poor thing,” he immediately laments—so quick , and the worst part is that the sympathy in his voice actually sounds sincere. You’re having trouble looking him in the eyes right now, hearing the genuine pity come through in his tone. “Who… who did this to you?”

“You said you want to figure out what I like, what turns me on,” you return, tucking your hair behind your ear once more and trying not to sound self-conscious. Maker, how long until your shift is over? You need to get out of here, this shit is… way out of your league. “I’m not into it, so try again.”

“Really?” Dameron takes a moment to look at you, furrow his thick eyebrows at you in barely concealed curiosity, before his head tilts sideways and drops to his shoulder. “Normally I’d respect that, but I meant it when I said you need it.”

“We fucking hate each other, Dameron,” you hiss, a reminder to him as much as it is to yourself. Fuck, you really don’t like where this is going. “You don’t know anything about me, you don’t know what the I n—”

“I bet you think we’d fuck hard,” he murmurs, low enough that you have to take an unsteady breath and physically brace yourself for whatever is going to come from that dirty mouth next. “You think that maybe I’d throw you around a little, give it to you from behind, teach you a fucking lesson for always talking back to me. But that’s primitive shit, Gold-Ten, that’s not for you.”

Resist. Resist . You’re part of the fucking Resistance, for Maker’s sake, you’re taught to hold out until death in torture scenarios. Since when did this tin can suddenly become a new POW camp simulation you have to train for?

“I want to take you apart so slow that you can’t talk at all,” Dameron continues quietly, and you close your eyes, biting your bottom lip hard enough to sting. “We don’t even have to fuck—I mean, I want to, but mostly I just want to taste you. Go nice and slow. I want you on your back, so I can look in your eyes and see all that anger just… fade away. I want to watch you try to fight how fucking good I’ll make it. How hot it’s gonna be when you can’t glare at me anymore, when your pretty doll eyes go all soft and sweet and you finally realize that I’ve never hated you at all.”

Maker. This is a trick. It’s not a question, it shouldn’t be presented like one—this is a dirty rotten trick , and you’re not gonna fall for it. You can’t fucking fall for it. It’s a low blow, and you refuse to even acknowledge he said anything at all. He’s lying to get your guard down. He laughed at your flirting. He’s a shit person, he’s using you, this isn’t real.

Real or not, you still gulp loud enough for him to hear it.

“We could go back to our room after our shift is over,” he offers out of the blue, and you have no clue why, but when he pauses and lets it hang in the air for a second, you don’t interrupt him. You stay completely silent while he waits for you, waits for your typical snarky comeback. You have it in your head instantly, you know what you’d normally say. Your room. It’s not ‘our’ room, it’s fucking your room that you’re generous enough to let him bunk in, a privilege he’s this fucking close to losing—but you can’t find it in yourself to say it right now. Your anger is gradually losing the war to your arousal and you’re forced to watch every single small defeat inside you happen from the sidelines.

His reflection blinks at you through the transparisteel, his eyebrows raising just slightly at your prolonged silence, before he suddenly sits up a little and leans forward.

“And I could lock the door,” Dameron continues, lowering his voice, both in volume and register. “The lights in there are way too fucking bright but I don’t want to be in complete darkness, so maybe we can turn them off and open the port shade, let just enough light come through to see. I could turn on the radio, find something quiet, easy to listen to. Something you like, I’ll let you pick it out. And then… Wait, hang on, which bed?”

You clench your jaw and purposefully say nothing even as your pussy squeezes, glaring right through his reflection into the black void of space.

“Mmm. Your bed,” he eventually decides. “I want you comfortable. You shower at night. Your hair will be wet and you’ll be in those baggy pajamas that you think I can’t see your nipples through, the ones that I know you take off under your covers and then put on in the morning when you think I’m still asleep. That’s good, I want you relaxed, so that maybe… maybe you’d let me take your panties off at some point. And you could lay back and open your legs, and I could go down on you for a little while. However long you need.”

Fuck.

No, this isn’t fucking happening. Your lower muscles aren’t twisting in so hard that it actually fucking hurts, your pussy isn’t leaking through two layers of fabric under your jumpsuit, your body isn’t outright revolting against the sheer neglect you’ve put it through. Maker, it’s fucking painful. You have to clench your hands into fists and dig your fingernails into your palms before you can open your mouth.

“You want to know what I need?” You nearly wheeze, a drop of sweat sliding down the back of your neck this time. Your body feels like it’s three sizes too big for this cockpit and your skin feels like it’s three sizes too small for your body. “I need you to shut the fuck u—”

“What you need,” Dameron purrs, sliding up closer behind your seat and sighing soft against the worn material of your headrest, “is a warm mouth to cum in. Don’t be shy, pretty baby, you can tell me.”

You growl out his last name as threateningly as you possibly can before he purrs yours right back in your ear, and fuck, you’ve never heard it sound so sexual before. Last names allow pilots to maintain a respectful distance from each other. Flight designations are Resistance-wide, but last names are just… allies. Not friends, not companions, but a vast network of people brought together by a common enemy. It hurts to lose a first name. But the way yours sounds rolling off of Dameron’s tongue is just too sinful, too intimate when calling you that is meant to sever intimacy by design. He says it slow and makes it dirty, muddies it in the back of his throat as he slides up even closer to you, until his face is right next to yours as you stare at each other through the transparisteel.

“I’m really…” he pauses, before exhaling through his nose and swallowing thick enough to make his Adam’s apple drop and bounce up again, his tongue coming out to wet his plush lips as he blinks slowly at you with a heavy gaze, “… really good at it. Call me Poe and I’ll do it for you all night.”

Shit, your pussy is just a fucking mess right now. It feels like it’s melting sweet and syrupy all over your thighs, throbbing and pounding and clamping up and screaming at you to do something, at least press your hand down there to alleviate some of the aching tensi—

No— stars, no touching yourself is rule number two. You drop your hands to your thighs and squeeze them, trying to reign yourself back in.

“I think you’re—just projecting,” you try, but turns out responding in general is just an all-around bad idea. Nothing about it comes out right. The ‘just’ sounds like your tongue is stuck to the roof of your mouth and your voice cracks on the word ‘projecting,’ but you don’t even have time to be self-conscious or embarrassed at how much you’re giving yourself away—all your energy has to go towards fighting the tightness between your open legs, how you’re so fucking turned on that you’re worried you’ll cum without even touching yourself. Oh Maker, can you imagine? How fucking proud of himself he’d be? You can’t let that happen, but fuck, holding back something so appealing is so much harder than it sounds.

Tap into that anger, tap into that anger—only, you can’t suddenly find it. Where’d it go? Fuck, doesn’t matter, conjure it. Quick, before it’s too late, get mad —don’t let him lure you into a… a false…

Dameron tilts his chin down towards the line of your shoulder and then slowly turns his head towards your neck, breathing you in gently.

A false sense of…

His soft exhale makes goosebumps break out all the way down your arms.

… What?

“Maybe you’re right,” Dameron acknowledges, talking just under your ear. You watch his eyelids dip and the dark beard brushes against your skin and you catch just a hint of that woodsy, spicy scent engulfing you. Like… teakwood, maybe? Stars, you don’t know, you think you’re starting to lose your mind. What the fuck does teakwood even smell like? “Maybe it’s just what I need. You should exploit it, chances are I’ll still cum first.”

That rockets another painful spasm down low. It hurts so fucking bad—fuck, maybe you could… rub yourself up against these weapons controls? Just a little bit? That joystick, right there, just ease yourself up against it just to nurse this wound a little bit…?

No, fucking— bad. That’s bad, you have to stop—

“This isn’t real, this isn’t—y-you just…” You flutter your eyelashes shut, digging your fingernails into your thighs like it’ll help break through the fog of his lulling voice, how fucking amazing he smells right now. “You just want to win th-the b—”

“ Fuck the bet,” he tells you quietly, his head dipped low enough now that his lips brush against your neck, and you shudder so hard at the sensation that your shoulder almost knocks into his chin with it. “You really think I’m doing all this for a fucking bet?”

Don’t trust him, don’t trust him, don’t—

Your deep breath is so stuttery and uneven that it’s technically just a series of shallow inhales all anxiously strung together, too desperate for oxygen to go about it legato. It’s painfully obvious to him by now, it has to be, but you very quickly miss the shaky breathing as soon as he takes away your ability to do it all together.

“Let me taste you,” he whispers, his voice almost breaking with how gentle it is, how it sounds like it flips in and out of his register when he speaks this low. “Right now, let’s make it real, let m—I know you have to be soaking fucking wet, baby, just let me try a little bit of it, please—I’m… holy shit, I’m so hard just thinking about it.”

“You c-can’t,” you stammer, reaching up to pinch the bridge of your nose in frustration. At him, at the situation, at the painful throb of emptiness between your legs. “Fuck, it’s not allowed, it’s against the rules—”

“It won’t be,” he assures you, and you hiccup when you suddenly feel his hand brush against your side, strong fingers branching out to curve against your ribcage. “You don’t have to do anything, you can stay just like this. Just a few seconds and then I’ll stop, I promise.”

Oh, Maker, it’s on the very top of your tongue, so unbelievably close to telling him something—but you don’t know what it should be. You’re right at the tipping point, on a tightrope right between what you want and what you should want. And, knowing you’re this close to giving in, Dameron slowly eases his hand down your side and starts to trail it inwards, and just the lightest brush of his warm tongue against your neck shatters any composure you have left.

You whimper and instinctively try to close your legs, but you fucking can’t— your knees are forced wide apart by controls and your whole body freezes when his hand slides down and folds gently along the curve of your pussy through the thick fabric of your jumpsuit.

The feeling of being held like this by him is just too good , cradled so perfectly in his palm as he opens his mouth and flutters his tongue out to taste your skin again, giving you a little more of it this time and letting you feel the roughness of his beard with the way his lips move. Your breath catches, then he hooks his fingertips up just the slightest bit and pulls back, and you suddenly have to smack your whole hand over your face in a terrible attempt to stifle your loud gasp.

“Oh, Maker, I c-can’t,” you stammer against your fingers, not being able to trust him or your own body. You continue to protest even after he moves back up, resting his palm low on your abdomen, letting the heat bleed through the fabric and transfer directly to your floor muscles as he lifts his head up from your shoulder. “I can’t, we can’t, I…”

You can’t see him, but you know he’s looking at you. He’s staring right at you through the reflection, studying the way you’re hiding your face from him, how you’re still melting, still losing your composure just from the warm palm pressed tight your tummy.

His touch leaves you for a second. But then the deafening sound of velcro ripping at the crotch of your jumpsuit has you dragging your hand down your mouth and your eyelids dipping.

“Dameron,” you breathe into your fingers, just as his carefully slip into the small opening and begin to work at the button to your pants. “Dameron, this isn’t—you don’t want—”

“You don’t get to tell me what I don’t want,” he grunts at you, and you try not to bite yourself at the sound of him unzipping things and yanking fabric to the side. “What I really fucking want is the real thing, but I guess this’ll have to do for now.”

“I—” Your mind whirs desperately, trying to process when his fingers wedge under your panties and down. But he doesn’t give you a single fucking second. As soon as the tip of his middle finger reaches your slit, he’s dropping it and sliding it through your slick, hot, unbearably neglected cunt.

“Fuck,” he spits, and you feel like you might be about to break your own fucking jaw with how hard you’re clutching it, trying so desperately not to make a noise. The pad of his finger is rough and calloused as it drags against your clit in slow, tight circles, and you clamp your eyes shut and try to breathe normally, but it’s no use. Fuck , it’s been so long . You’ve been aching for it for a full fucking month and a half now and you know that even if he couldn’t feel it, he can hear how drenched you are right now. It’s making an obscene sound as he steadily masturbates you with one heavenly finger, giving your body what it’s desperately craved for so many weeks. “Fuck, baby’s pussy got fucking wet hearing me talk about how good I’d lick it, huh?”

That sends a bright flare launching through you and you gasp raggedly, both hands whipping out to snatch at his forearm where it disappears between your legs. “No, shit, wait, stopstopstopstop stop , I—”

His hand slips out immediately and yet you continue to tremble like his finger is still right there, like your clit is just imagining it so vividly that it’s successfully convincing itself of the illusion. The aching bit of flesh is burning, that good burn, the one that’s searing and bright that makes your muscles continue to chase the sensation long after the stimulation is gone. Fuck, he almost made you cum. He barely touched you for a few seconds and yet your fingers have to tighten into claws to slow your body down the fuck down, flexing against your thighs and trying your best to halt the impending climax.

By the time you’re able to wrangle yourself back from the edge and look at his reflection, his middle finger is already in his mouth and he’s blinking slowly at you, his pupils blown wide. You’re breathing hard at him, staring open-mouthed at the way his lips are closed below his second knuckle, how he takes forever dragging it back out again. You have to close your eyes. You have to clamp them shut and keep them that way, knowing you won’t be able to look at him through whatever he’s going to say next.

Except, oddly, he doesn’t say much.

“Shit,” he breathes, dropping his mouth to your neck once more. “Shhhit. I…”

Your eyes snap open in sudden, blind panic when he doesn’t continue, horrified at the possibility that he doesn’t like it. Dameron always has something to say, he doesn’t go speechless. “Oh—Maker, is it not—?”

“Mmmfuck, just—” he grits, panting hot air against your skin, “—fuck. Give me a second.”

You can only see the crown of his head with the way he’s angled, but you can see his shoulders a little further back. They start… moving slightly. Just the littlest bit, a smooth motion, like his whole body is slowly easing back and forth—

The nav controls are between his legs, you immediately realize. He’s grinding up against them with how close he is to you and your seat.

And suddenly, it’s like there’s a light at the end of the tunnel. A ray of sunshine that breaks through the raging storm. Dameron might cum in his pants like this. Which means you’ll win, and arguably more importantly, you’ll finally be able to cum. You don’t even take a moment to consider the potential consequences—how you’re going to have to withstand the stimulation until he succumbs to it, how you’ll have to outlast—but you’re not thinking straight. You’re not really thinking at all.

“You can…” you suddenly hear yourself whisper, and your heart pounds in your throat when he instantly stops moving. “One… one more. If you want. You can put your finger inside this time, it’s where I’m the… w-wettest.”

“Fuck,” Dameron croaks into the crook of your neck, his voice scraping low and rough and sending a tremor through you. “Fuck, okay, yeah—”

His hand slides across your hip and down, but you catch him just in time.

“But don’t touch my clit.” You try to sound as firm as possible through the breathlessness, still trying to put your foot down even when you’re giving in, and Dameron’s teeth come out as he stifles a soft groan into your neck in response.

“Yes, baby,” he murmurs obediently as his hand sinks down once more, and so diligently, he avoids it altogether. His fingers slide under your panties and fall straight down to your entrance, down to where you know you’re the hottest, where your pussy is flexing and pushing wetness out with a steady, wicked throb. The pad of his middle finger presses gently against the tight muscles there, rubs just the slightest bit to feel that resistance, and then the length of it eases inside you so slowly that your knees rattle against bulky metal.

“Fucking Maker , ” he hisses as he slides it in, his body making a sudden jerk against the controls.

Your eyes roll back at the feeling of something inside you after so long, after such a torturous buildup, and you grasp at his forearm again when it curls naturally up against searing pleasure. Oh, it’s so good, it’s so good, your hands shake while he very carefully moves it in and out, the raw sparks of heat threatening to incinerate you as your muscles cling to every ridge of his finger. He gets it sopping wet, bathes it so completely in your slick that you’re almost certain it’ll come out pruny and drenched.

“Shit, okay,” you pant, squeezing desperately around his finger, “o-okay, fuck, that’s enough.”

His hand pulls out… slower this time. He slips his finger out of you quick enough, but he drags the tip of it through your folds as he retreats, just barely grazing your clit and making you jolt in your seat. Shit, you don’t know if it felt intentional enough to fault him for it—mostly it just excites you, thrills you to have him edge you like this without really needing to put any effort at all into it.

Dameron lifts his head to sink his finger deep into his mouth once more, and you tremble as you watch him enjoy it, staring at the way his shoulders seem to relax as soon as your taste is on his tongue, how his face goes soft with it and he almost slumps.

Relief. Genuine, not embellished. He still doesn’t say anything after he slowly slides it out and blinks at you, no sugar sweet drawl telling you how amazing you taste, no candied words to make you give in and let him have another go. You’re both breathing hard at each other, staring, waiting to see who will break first.

Stars, you… fucking like this. You want him to keep going, but you can’t offer it again. It’s just too exposing, too revealing to let him you’re actually really fucking enjoying this, you can’t—

“Do you w—?” Your voice automatically comes out through the silence without your permission, sounding just absolutely fucking wrecked by this point, but his palm is already slithering back down as soon as you speak, and you make the softest little submissive noise in your throat at him taking immediate initiative like that. He’s not as careful about it this time—his hand finds its target with less frill, his finger slides in quicker, sinking deep into your heat with little hesitation, lighting you on fire from the inside out, and you bite the meat of your thumb to stay quiet.

“Fuck, this is so hot,” he suddenly breathes next to your ear while your legs spasm and you gasp brokenly. “This is so—fuck, pretty baby letting me do this to her, I can’t fucking believe—”

Dameron eases a second finger inside you this time, letting you feel that delicious stretch from this angle, unable to lift your legs or shuffle around to help and subsequently resigned to simply experience it the way he gives it to you. Your teeth have probably permanently indented your bottom lip from how hard you’re clamped down, a testament to how much you’re trying to hold back the loud moan you miraculously haven’t released yet. Somehow it makes it sexier, not letting him hear you, not having your own noises to drown out the spark of urgency in his voice beginning to peek through.

Shit, it’s too much. You can only let him touch you a few seconds at a time before you feel that familiar tug towards mind-numbing bliss, and the more he does it, the more appealing that feeling then becomes. It’s teasing you, floating right in front of you and calling into question what could possibly be so bad about just reaching out to meet it? You could. You could cum right now. What’s two weeks of pay? You could cum all night long if you want, that is a thing you can do—

Quickly snapping out of your hypnotic downfall, your trembling hands snatch at his forearm once more, and Dameron, the fucker, drags his fingers slowly over your clit on the way out— so not accidental, not even close to it this time, but the sensation makes your hips stutter upwards and chase it nonetheless.

“Fuck you,” you groan at his audacity, your chest arching as you drop your head back, “I said don’t touch my—” but two wet fingers slipping past your lips and onto your tongue muffle the rest of your sentence. Your heart does half a somersault before slamming down early, the taste of your pussy filling your mouth as you automatically start sucking on them.

“None of that,” Dameron tells you softly, massaging his fingers along your tongue before pressing a sweet kiss under your ear. “Be nice. I’m being nice.”

You should bite him. Instead, you just close your eyes and mphh weakly around his fingers, your body sagging as you give into it and let him explore your mouth with them, your lower muscles cramping up in painful desperation even when he’s not anywhere near that part of your body right now. Your tongue even comes up to lick between them, swirl around them so soft compared to how hard you’re puffing through your nose.

Dameron slowly inches his fingers out, letting the tips of them rest against your bottom lip for just a brief moment, before his hand is moving again. Not down, but back and around, so he can open his mouth and taste you another way this time.

Shit, you feel like you’re dying. You need air. Your hands clench into fists and you use the back of one to wipe the sweat from the bridge of your nose while he takes his time sampling you like this. If anything, he looks just as blissed out as before, continuing to rub his crotch up against the solid metal between his legs and teasing you with it as much as he’s teasing himself.

“Maker, let me do this for real tonight, okay,” Dameron pants after dropping his fingers from his mouth, sounding like he’s fighting for his breath while you can’t find yours at all. Your eyes flick down to watch the way his hand disappears behind the chair to grab the controls and push his cock up against them even harder, how he drops his forehead to your neck like he just can’t fucking handle it anymore. “Fuck, I’ll shave, I’ll do anything you want, just let me—”

“Cum,” you gasp out before you can stop yourself, and there’s a moment after it where his hips suddenly stutter against the controls, and you both freeze.

Shit. Shitshitshit, did that actually work?

No, you very quickly realize, his body isn’t spasming like it would if he finally emptied his load after a month and a half. He’s just… holding there, his head buried in your neck, completely still.

You didn’t mean it like that. Well… fuck, you did, but you didn’t realize you’d be that reckless about it, that upfront about reissuing the challenge.

Dameron pulls back to look at you from the side this time, but it’s too cramped—he keeps his head turned facing you even as his eyes flick up to the transparisteel to take in the finer details of your features, the thin sheen of sweat on your forehead, and the slightly alarmed way you’re blinking back at him, worried you just shot your blaster at him in the midst of a mutual ceasefire and you fucking missed.

You see the understanding in his eyes instantly fall into place, and it’s not fucking good. Ohhhhhh no, it’s not good. Your chest starts rising and falling rapidly, suddenly registering the position you just put yourself in. Fuck, you didn’t think—you saw your opening, so clearly, you didn’t have time to think about the consequences.

“D-Dameron…” you try your best to placate.

“Don’t touch your clit?” He asks quietly, the raspiness of his voice ripping a hole through you while his hand suddenly shoves its way back down your body once more.

“Dameron,” you whimper, your heart stuttering in panic as you grasp weakly at his arm reaching between your spread thighs, “Dameron, this is—this is against the r-rules—”

“You keep saying that,” he comments, his fingers easily finding the opening in your jumpsuit no matter how hard you flex your thighs against bulky mechanics to try and close them. “How clearly do you remember the rules? What were the rules again?

You open your mouth to respond but his hand sliding under your panties and down just obliterates any chance you were going to attempt. No words, nothing comes out but a shaky whine as his finger sinks into your soaking heat, going right for the kill.

“Come on, baby, the rules,” Dameron reminds you when you never give him an answer. “Tell me. No fucking, no jerking off, and…?”

You suddenly struggle forwards in a last-ditch attempt at preventing the inevitable, hoping you can scoot up enough in your seat to escape his reach from behind. But fuck, your thighs have been shoved wide open for nearly eight hours—none of the muscles are working the way they should be anymore. There’s just enough room in front of you to get there and you probably would’ve been able to do it at the beginning of the shift, even with his hand between your legs like this, but you’re sluggish and your thighs pull sharp and urgent with the movement. The frantic maneuver enough to veer his fingers off course just slightly, moving one of your lips to the side at an angle, and you keep pushing against the pain no matter how useless it is.

“—No cumming,” he finishes for you, and his other hand is slithering up under your arm and groping one of your breasts through the jumpsuit before shoving you back tight up against your seat once more, totally helpless against it. “Probably have another fifteen minutes or so before our shift ends. Better hold it in, pretty baby, because this one is all you.”

“This—this isn’t fair, this is—” The second the slippery pad of his finger presses hard against your clit, you’re biting your lip to cut off a breathless whimper that slips out. “This is… is sab— sabotage— ”

“Oh, I know,” he moans next to your ear, mocking your high plea of distress with a fake, overly sympathetic whine. “Feels so fucking good though, doesn’t it?”

Fuck, it does. The build feels like an orgasm in itself, just working your way to it. You’re already so unbelievably close after just a few seconds of direct stimulation, an obvious consequence of originally agreeing to such a hardcore edging workout. You’re pouring sweat, so swollen and tight between your legs as you do everything you can to revolt against your body’s needs.

“Oh fuck, stop touching my clit—” you gasp raggedly, heart thundering in panic while your lower muscles start to immediately seize up, “oh—fuckfuckfuck— Poe, take your finger off m—”

Instead of doing it, his hand just slows down until the tip of his finger comes to a halt, maybe less than an inch over top of it. You still can’t catch your breath though, not when you feel yourself throbbing against absolutely nothing, the calloused pad holding perfectly still over the bundle of nerves. The swollen bud still arcs and flares at a steady frequency, building and building, and you choke out a wordless garble, absolutely fucking furious that this is what’s gonna make you cum.

“Don’t make me cum,” you switch up your sentence but not the terrified plead in your voice, the way it’s pitching up and out of control in the dead quiet of space. He doesn’t even acknowledge it. “Don’t make me cum, don—”

“Say it again,” he prompts instead, and lightning arcs up your spine.

“Poe,” you wheeze, the words coming from you without thought, your fingernails digging into his forearm even as your hips jerk up into his touch, “fuck, don’t make me cum, Poe—please don’t make me c—”

“But it’ll be so good,” he counters lowly, and your clit throbs in desperation at the richness of his voice when he speaks like this, saying things from deep in his chest. “It’ll be so fucking good when it happens. Stars, you’ll feel so much better, won’t you? Cum right now and I’ll give you as many as I can until we have to go home.”

“N-No,” you whine, feeling his teeth scrape at the crook of your neck. “No, I can’t—”

“Cum for me,” Dameron raises his voice, sharpening it into a direct order. “Right now. Come on— fucking make yourself lose.”

“But I—I—” you sob, starting to feel your body curl inwards, nearly about to succumb to the burning, the tightening, right on its last breath, “I-I don’t want to cum—”

“And I don’t fucking care,“ he hisses while your hands start flexing unintentionally, grasping helplessly at his immovable forearm where it disappears between your legs, the dark hair sliding under your fingertips as you claw desperately at it. “You’ll fucking cum when I tell you to cum and you’ll like it, you disrespectful, cock-deprived, bratty little—”

And then everything goes dark.

No, literally. The stars disappear.

The cockpit is suddenly shrouded in pitch blackness, and you’re almost certain it’s because you pass out, except then Dameron is all but ripping his hand out of your jumpsuit and cursing repeatedly in alarm. You crumple in on yourself, eyes clamped shut and not hearing anything, right at the peak of your ecstasy and ready to soar into the light completely unassisted, your muscles doing all the work on their own—

“—shit, they’re way too close—” you hear his voice shout, “—we have to turn the engines on—Gold-Ten, baby, turn the fucking eng—”

You’re almost there, you’re almost there, you’re gonna cum, you’re gonna fucking—

Your first name, roared out in startling, blinding panic.

You don’t often hear it. Just during roll calls mostly, but only if you’re flying with a different squadron and need a new temporary flight designation for the day. First names hurt. You can’t remember a time you’ve ever willingly told anybody yours.

Your head jerks up to look at his reflection but something else beyond the transparisteel takes immediate precedence. Your brain takes about two seconds to catch up before thundering terror slams through you and halts your previously inevitable orgasm in its fucking tracks. A runaway train about to launch off its tracks suddenly slamming directly into a megaton force-field of cold, hard fight or flight instincts.

A staggering fleet of First Order ships silently plunging out of hyperspace on all sides—your powered-down x-wing stationed right in the middle of the drop location.

***

Stay tuned for part two coming soon!!

#poe x reader #poe dameron #poe dameron x reader #SMUTTTT #reader insert #star wars #fanfic #the formatting on this one is downright horrendous but im so mad that i cant even fix it right now so thatll have to come later im sorry

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sugar-petals · 3 years

Text

SuperM Fluff & NSFW Notes

↳ 🌹aka some of their romantic antics plus random 18+ imagines 👋

warnings ⚠️ rated (super) m, boyfriends hc, porn mentions, partial fem!reader, sex toys

FLUFF

since baekhyun knows how to make scented candles, he creates one for you as a birthday present with your favorite fragrances.

every entry in mark’s diary involves fond thoughts about you.

taemin kisses you more than his cat kkoongie on a daily basis so let that sink in. his smooch obsession is getting out of hand.

lucas, having giant fingers after all, learns how to knit in order to make you a warm scarf. he’s still a bit clumsy with it and had to call kun for advice, but the result is surprisingly proper and quickly becomes your favorite item. it’s a little huge but well, he thinks in his dimensions. lucas’ next project is a beanie.

ten overwhelms you with pet names. in fact, he seemingly seems to come up with a new one each day.

kai is a candlelight dinner, rose petals and music kinda guy. he does every old-school thing in the book.

taeyong can cuddle endlessly in bed. he just doesn’t wanna leave.

lucas gladly shares his sweaters. they’re ginormous so, perfect cuddle material.

baekhyun is already a fool. so — when he falls in love, he becomes an even bigger fool. or, the contrary happens: he becomes dead silent around his partner because he’s so enthralled. he can take this more seriously than you think.

mark likes to write little cards and many many texts to express his love.

lucas is the type who can help you put on your jeans when they were shrinking a bit too much in the dryer. he’s pretty sexy like that and things can get really touchy.

cheesy fucking kai, and there’s only one guy who would do this, has actually lowered himself over a puddle once so you would have a bridge. brushed it off like a daily workout rep.

not one shower missed without baekhyun joining you. yes, it’s not always sexy time, he likes it when you shampoo his hair and whisper sweet nothings. and obviously: it’ll all devolve to a laughing fit.

taeyong is the type who wants to be proposed to.

taemin will get a motorcycle license and take you for a frequent ride. he loves getting those kind of back hugs.

both ten and lucas are great at making bracelets. wayv’s dorm is fully equipped with charms, strings, and pearls, so expect matching ones for you.

we’ve seen it, that one’s his favorite move. kai wraps his hand around your shoulder when you walk together.

mark will ALWAYS share his melon.

making you swoon on a DVD evening is lucas’ favorite hobby. he will buy you the most sugary-sweet romance movies. he will often browse streaming sites to select the latest sentimental plots. all these dramas seem to have a male lead who is suspiciously tall and lanky.

if you allow him, taeyong customizes your white tees with his cute drawings.

since taemin swims in money thanks to his profession as the god of kpop (yes, this is a registered job name because i say so), he can fulfill you any wish. he’s stingy and pouty when the shinee hyungs can pay, and the motherfucker baekhyun is even richer since his albums have been taking off so he opens his mochi wallet when superm is gathered, but you... are a different case. taemin will humbly empty his entire pockets when he overhears you gushing over something. there’s a voice in his mind going: must splurge!!

mark loves christmas, you establish an annual tradition to stage a whole couple evening.

baekhyun likes to play charades and especially do karaoke with you. he’s always cutely wiggling his butt and dances like a drunk uncle. he hits the high notes anyway and makes sure you score 100 points.

taeyong can make out with you while at the same time making sure that the milk doesn’t get burned on the stove. kiss’n’stirr multitask tyong alert. gotta make sure the cocoa is served in time, you know.

all the members enjoy playing board games. yep, imagine the fun and sheer chaos.

lucas has the funniest laugh ever indeed. he’ll react to all your jokes, no matter how lame they might be. intensely reassuring.

taemin’s hand is basically glued to yours.

taeyong and mark are the kinds of boyfriends that spoil their partner with skincare. fancy a nice face massage with a nice fragrant oil?

baekhyun has been baking heart-shaped pizzas ever since you started dating. he just can’t make them round anymore.

mark will join you on anything you’re currently bingewatching.

kai sometimes — only half-jokingly — goes down on both knees bowing forward with his hands on the ground just to show how much he wants to thank you. in case you didn’t notice: this guy treats you like a deity.

ten usually gets confused glances from the other members whenever he gets the current date wrong: he simply loses track of time with you.

lucas makes a habit of buying you flowers every other week. but on unpredictable occasions, and he arranges them in places you’d never expect.

taemin will build you a weird-looking snowman to make you laugh, and give it an even stranger name. ten will build one that looks like you. kai doesn’t build snowmen, he just stands there challenging you to throw snow balls at him.

mark will hang out with you at the beach constantly bringing his guitar. he’ll serenade you all the time.

returning from three months of touring, baekhyun has once climbed your balcony when your parents were in the other room. yep, he was that desperate to see you. somebody give this man a rope and helmet.

taeyong writes down heartfelt confessions on 365 folded slips of paper so you can open one every day. your reactions will range from ‘awwh!’ to straight-up tears.

ten does regular couple yoga with you. a mildly challenging form, not the circus acrobat version. he’ll do the difficult parts anyway. you can pretzel this guy up, he’ll do anything to make you laugh.

when it rains you hook your arm around his, and lucas always holds the umbrella. even the wildest gush of wind can’t make it turn inside out. you arrive home entirely dry. xuxi is so cute, he’s also a great source of cooling shadow in the summer without even trying.

taemin’s skinship overdrive doesn’t stop with endless hand-holding, back hugs and kisses. he wants to lay down in your lap whenever he can. he looks damn pretty with his hair splaying there. if you work on your laptop, you can pretty much count to ten and he’s already nestled there.

kai does pushups with you on his back. it’s a staple. each time he does one, he says ‘i love you’. he increases his count every day.

NSFW

it’s no secret that taeyong is great at acting or pulling off any outfit and costume. expect roleplay of the finest kind — literally. he looks good in a firefighter uniform. you’ll be burning up pretty much automatically.

taemin can’t keep his tongue in. it’s terrible. he’s always in the mood for head. his sloppy noises are the absolute worst, it turns you on way too fast.

lucas had some major problems finding condoms that fit him.

ten and taemin are so switchy, they have an unresolved power struggle going on. begs for a dominant third party to help them out.

kai owns expensive latex gear.

baekhyun may be the king of vocals and breath technique, but if you push him far enough he does get hoarse.

taemin often jokes how kai will one day break his dick from fucking too hard.

meanwhile, mark’s dick is already falling off – from fucking too often. this guy has some major hormones going for him. no surprise, a guy who can promote in four kpop groups at the same time is a stamina king.

taeyong likes eating pussy with another party involved. three’s a crowd my friend. sometimes it’s taemin who unleashes his spit waterfall power, sometimes it’s baekhyun who preoccupies himself with nibbling at the inner thigh while taeyong digs in.

taemin owns the most underwear.

mark takes valerian drops because he is so nervous in bed. it never really goes away, it’s his nature.

taeyong keeps a lube collection. a different flavor for all occasions. he likes associating certain scents with specific body parts.

kai has a heels kink. he literally goes wild over it.

taemin likes to have sex with favorite glasses on.

taeyong and kai are the most likely to cry during sex. baekhyun as well if you rough him up enough.

mark gets rock hard the fastest, followed by kai. he’s a grower.

taeyong gets the best inspiration for a song when he gets a casual dick riding.

taemin watches extremely x-rated erotic thrillers and bdsm flicks that are heavy on the plot. he gets more invested in the characters and actors than you think. since his japanese is amazing? of course he also owns a giant 90s hentai collection.

when he’s jerking off, baekhyun chokes himself. a) because he’d make too much noise otherwise and b) because asphyxiation is his favorite thing.

kai feels pleasure in his every cell. he cums the hardest. and, as you can expect, his body expresses it the most extremely, accurately, passionately. if you’ve seen it even once, you’ll never look at him the same again.

taemin has less experience than his discography claims, but more than you’d think. he researches sexual techniques as well. you can brace yourself.

mark has not just a tiger inside, but a freak inside, waiting to be unleashed.

sex while gaming is a go-to activity for baekhyun.

lucas has the best stamina when it comes to getting head.

taemin throws his head back during sex. and no, he doesn’t T-pose. i’m kidding — of course he does. but only when he’s on his back.

taeyong tends to grip a pillow when he cums.

or he humps one when he’s by himself.

ten has the best taste in sexy time playlists.

baekhyun has the best taste in singing his own playlist along.

oh, the things kai has bought at a gas station at 3AM.

baekhyun sucks strap the best. he can open his mouth the widest, drools a lot, and makes the best noises unsurprisingly.

how to turn on lee taemin? he likes getting slapped.

since he’s the most avid and most diverse eater, lucas’ sperm tastes the best. he’s shove 50 fruits into his system just to give you a sweet experience.

mark is absolutely a starfish.

kai wears fishnet tops if you fancy it.

curiously, baekhyun out of all people doesn’t announce when he’s cumming. you’ll hear it, though.

taeyong’s dildo collection is one for the books.

taemin has visited a pro dominatrix a couple times. needless to say, he was the #1 favorite client at the dungeon. having fully submerged into a fantasy world, taemin was one whip crack away from falling in love with the mistress. but then covid happened and the venue closed.

mark’s dick looks really pretty.

taemin can grind on the strap at every humanly possible angle. he’s almost always ready to take it. he carries a prep kit.

kai — that fucker — knows how to make you wet the most with his bare hands. prepare for the thigh ride of your life, too.

taeyong, baekhyun, and taemin have the best arches. kai is coming for the top three as well. ten’s arch is so good, it can’t be considered one anymore.

baekhyun knows every adult movie out there. theoretically, nothing can shock him. in reality, he melts in your hands.

taeyong is so sexually active with you, he has quit eating garlic.

kai will exploit your muscle kink in any way he can.

taemin, being a devil, has that one button on his phone that he can press when you go out for dinner. he’s OBSESSED with getting you off. once you head home, it’s basically running down your thighs.

ten has once opened a condom with scissors to scare away a date that grew weird on him by the time it got to the do.

lucas is too tall for doing missionary normally.

this will surprise nobody: mark is great at constantly keeping up the dirty talk.

baekhyun’s car is sort of like a brothel on wheels. he can’t count how many times he got down and dirty in there. he cleans it all up by himself.

kai can technically grip you the hardest but he’s the gentlest and great at caressing the whole body.

taemin has the easiest time saying what precisely he wants. he is also the best people reader — most your wishes he can pretty intuit. taemin observes your interests well.

ten likes his hair pulled and makes angelic noises when you do so.

baekhyun likes camgirls and erotic chats with strangers online. he spends a lot of money for nsfw internet encounters.

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tokoyamisstuff · 3 years

Text

Scandal Ch. 5 - Loki x Reader

Summary: Loki returns to claim what is his - willing to kill everyone in his way.

Warnings: Angst.

Words: ~1800

I Story Masterlist I General Masterlist I

Taglist: @catlover092402152, @hi-there-x, @haloangel391, @misssilencewritewell, @babayaga67, @accioremuslupinn, @mochimommy2002, @just-someone-who-likes-to-write, @damalseer, @bethanystan, @loser-alert, @star017, @nina1800, @queenariesofnarnia, @n1fangirlsblog, @vengefulsokovian, @lunamoonbby, @freyagallileaevans, @emmojoy, @literate-lamb, @aninnai, @justsomerandompersonintheworld

A/N: Sweet little Feedback Anon, I took your suggestion. You know which one I mean if you see it. (:

Btw guys I have like 60+ Drafts I need to finish so pls be patient with me.

Word sure spreads fast among the folk of Asgard, about Odin’s shame and your innocence.

Since his lies had weakened the favor among his subjects, the Allfather was desperate to clean his name and reputation, ultimatively inviting you to come back.

But you declined, stating that this wasn’t your homeland anymore ever since they betrayed you to fullfill their selfish ambitions.

However, Asgard’s hypocrisy wasn’t the only reason you chose to stay on Midgard - you just knew that it would break your heart every day you’d spend on a place with so many memories connected to your deceased husband.

Earthlings, the people of S.H.I.E.L.D and especially Thor’s friends Jane and Erik Selvic had basically become like family to you. Even though they could never fill the void Loki had left in your heart, things being like this was more than you could wish for.

“Lady Y/N!” a familiar voice greeted you, yet his worried tone startled you. Thor was already standing in your room, practically kicking in your door as he was visibly upset.

Immediately, you put Liam into his crib and rushed to his side. “What’s the matter?!”

A strange mix of horror and excitement was stretched across his face, making your heart sink to your stomach.

Actually, you didn’t want to involve yourself with the Asgardians any further. All you ever wanted was for your child to be healthy and happy, no matter where this was possible.

But Thor was still your cherished brother-in-law, as well as a wonderful uncle, never ceasing to provide for you and Liam, even when everyone else had forsaken you.

Yet what he was about to tell you let your blood run cold:

“Loki is back.”

Immediately, all the walls you had built up over those past months were crumbling as you collapsed to the floor, crying out of anger and relief.

“H-How? How is this even possible?! He’s dead! Loki died!”

“Pull yourself together, Lady Y/N!” Thor has always been a rather touchy-feely kind of person, in opposite to his raw and bulky appearance.

But right now, he wouldn’t dare to hug or console you, like he’d usually do. Instead, he was offering you a hand to help you get back up - which you wouldn’t be able to take just yet. “There’s no use in overthinking this! We need to hurry!”

“What do you even want me to do?” you wondered, because if your husband was really alive, you’d doubt him wanting to see you. “He’s changed...killed a lot of people before he disappeared. And still, I don’t wanna fight him. How can I be of any help at all?!?”

“We know he’s probably after you and the child” the God of Thunder stated coldly. “So you need to be transferred to a safe location.”

What can be more safe than a base of S.H.I.E.L.D? If only you knew he had already demolished a whole, giant outpost of them with ease...

“I’ll explain everything to you on the way.” “Let me quickly get the baby.”

“What, did you forget the name of your nephew already?” you chuckled awkwardly, but seeming to have struck a nerve.

Thor was only slowly approaching the crib in which your lovely baby was resting, staring at it with awe while his trembling hand caressed Liam’s cheek.

“Incredible...” he whispered mainly to himself, as if this wasn’t the thousandth time he would lay eyes upon him. “He’s just like I remember him.”

Something was off.

Of course Thor had a spare key to your flat, but you had never heared him unlock it - he had just kind of appeared in the middle of the room. Could as well be that you had been to invested with something, or buried in thought to notice him, and yet...

“Wait” you stated, making him flinch away from the child and turn around. “My knees are still weak. Help me up first.”

With heavy steps, Thor would force himself away from the crib and towards you again, lending you another hand and easily pulling you up - just for you to point a sharp dagger to his throat.

“Lady Y/N, when did you summo-”

“Shut up!” you hissed, and the god held his hands into the air to assure his goodwill. "Drop the disguse. Now!”

The man let out an amused huff, a taint of green covering his body to revert it back to normal - revealing your husband.

His hair had become longer, and dark rings showed how devastating those past months went by for him. Yet still, he was unmistakingly your husband.

Yet a faint, mad spark in his eyes was what worried you the most.

Now he was holding a knife as well, both circling around the crib with a knife at each other’s throat, as if to dance with each other.

“So it’s really you, Loki?”

“The one and only” he declared, chest swelling with pride at his performance and completely ignoring your hostile undertone. “I missed you painfully, my sweetling.”

He looked to the side where your son was still sleeping soundly, regret clearly visible on his face. “Wha- what name did you give our child?”

“Liam it is.”

The smallest of smiles tugged on his lips, swallowing harshly to surpress the sobs wanting to break free. “Beautiful name. Very well chosen.”

Pain was stretching across your features, desperately trying for the dam of emotions to not break. The dagger in your hand vanished, rather choosing to reluctantly caress his cheek - to make sure this was really him, and not one of his illusions.

And it was really him, leaning into your touch with a content purr. “Yes, my love, just like tha-”

A loud noise drang to his ear, effectively cutting him off. He needed a second to understand that it was in fact you slapping him what caused the interruption.

“Dear, wait, I-” Another hit, this time it was your knee digging into his groin, making him gasp in pain.

With his current power, it would be a piece of cake to block you - yet he knew that after everything that had happened to you, and everything he had done...

...it was what he deserved. So he would allow you to let off some steam.

Yet much to his surprise, you were done already - now grabbing desperately on his cloak and pulling him in for a passionate kiss.

He immediately reciprocated, dropping his weapon as well to embrace you fully, lips mingling with each other over and over again.

Oh, how long had both of you craved for each other?

“Sorry” you panted as your lips finally parted, “Just needed to get that off my chest.”

“Do not apologize, my love” Loki declared, chin resting atop of your head, still no intention to let go off of you. “I deserve far worse than that.”

You looked up to him, the kiss having made something surface in his eyes: So solemn, and incredibly fragile, it made your heart ache.

“Wha- what happened to you? Where have you been all this time?”

Loki’s face contorted at the question, as if the thoughts in his mind were physically painful. But his mind was clouded, unable to make his proper memory resurfacing. “Places far beyond your imagination, dear. And I have learned many things.”

“I-I thought I had lost you...” you ultimatively began to sob, face dug into his chest.

“No” the god whispered softly, his gaze still unwavering. “You always have me. I promise.”

“What now?” you sniveled as he gently pet your head, just as back in good old times. “Where do we go?”

“What do you mean?” Loki’s features creased into a slight frown, “We stay here. There’s no need to leave or flee.”

“Bu-” you hesistantly took a few steps back, to take in his full reaction. “But you’re a wanted criminal, Loki! On Asgard as well as Midgard!”

His manner became more defensive again, glee radiating off of him. “Oh, my sweet, innocent Y/N...still the idealist, I see.”

“And you are still insufferable” you scoffed back, crossing your arms. “What do you mean?”

Actually, you dreaded the answer.

The man seemed to be thinking about many things at once, eyes narrowing before he finally took a hold of your hand, squeezing it ever so slightly when he saw that you were still wearing his ring - even after everything that had happened.

“Y/N, my love, those deaths were a necessary evil.” He tried to peck a quick kiss on your hand, but you pulled away at those words. “The only crime I feel guilty for is having left the love of my life. But don’t you worry, I’ll make up for it.”

He summoned a staff, glowing in the same blue as the tesseract - and much to your terror, his eyes started to adapt to them as well.

“I will create my own kingdom, Y/N! Here on Midgard, with you as my queen! This is what you deserve, my love! You and our child will have everything you desire and more!”

“This is madness, Loki!” It wasn’t the first time he had heared that.

People always treated him wrongly, afterwards wondering why he was trying to create felicity on his own. “Is it?” he croaked, “Is it madness for a person born to rule two kingdoms to create a home he never had?”

His plan did not merit awe or any such feelings he hoped you to have - the only person in the world he thought would understand him.

“Loki, what your parents have done to you is inexcusable, yet-”

“They’re not my parents!” he screamed enraged, eyes then widened in shock that he had raised his voice at you. “My apologies, I...”

“They have kept the truth from you so that you’d never feel different. You know you’re their son, and the Asgardians are your family. You must know that!”

“You speak like mother” he spat, and still Frigga’s words he could not shake off as easily as Odin’s. “There is no going back to that place, and Jotunheim I never had a connection with. You most likely heared that I tried to kill Laufey, yes?”

Nodding in silence, you nervously bit your lip. “Please...” Wrapping your arms around him and placing one ear at his sternum, you could clearly hear how his heart was fighting a war, struggling to decide.

“You can still stop whatever you were gonna do. We can start anew somewhere, lead a peaceful life with Liam. I don’t need wealth or power, and you clearly know any of this wouldn’t give you the satisfaction you’re searching for!”

“As always, you’re right” he grumbled deeply, already regretting what he was about to do. “But it’s not that easy, my naive little dove.”

“No~” With his hand on the back of your neck, he infused a powerful magic inside your body, slowly shutting down your nervous system completely. As careful as possible, he cradled you in his arms and slowly led you to the floor, then proceeding to take his heir.

“The only thing I need for myself is our little family - and I will avenge you by murdering anyone that did you wrong, or tries to separate us again.”

#Loki #Loki x Reader #Loki x You #Loki x Y/N #Loki Laufeyson #Loki / Reader #Loki / You #Marvel #Disney #God of Mischief #Writing #Self Insert #Fanfiction

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sgstories123 · 3 years

Text

Father or Grandfather

Mr Tan opened the door to his flat. He was home much earlier than usual as there was a last minute change in work schedule. He was looking forward to a cold beer and watching some tv. As he entered his flat, he heard someone groaning. He stopped and listened carefully, thinking that it might be a burglar.

He smiled. It was a woman moaning in a manner that was all too familiar to him. It came from his son’s room. That boy is watching too much porn. And he should turn down the volume. But then again, it is only natural that a 20-year old boy should be watching porn, he reasoned.

Mr Tan closed the door softly behind him, not wanting to disturb his son. He moved silently to the kitchen, thinking of his cold beer.

“Yes, NIck, fuck me harder,” moaned a female voice.

Mr Tan stopped in his tracks. Was porn so advanced now that it is customised? Nick was his son’s name. Out of curiosity, he turned to his son’s room. The door was slightly ajar and he could see his son lying naked on top of a woman. Mr Tan looked closely at the woman and realised that it was his son’s latest girlfriend, Tessa. They got together about a month ago and she had been to their house a couple of times. Mr Tan smiled to himself again. Nick was just like him in his younger days. No girlfriend has lasted more than 6 months. He knew that Nick often brought his girlfriends home to have sex but this is the first time he caught him in the act. It must be because his son had not expected him to come home earlier today.

Nick was fucking Tessa in missionary position. He was pushing up against her, making little grunts of pleasure. He seems to be doing it right as Mr Tan could hear Tessa moaning in pleasure, louder with each thrust. As Mr Tan watched, he felt his own cock harden. Perhaps this was because Tessa was quite pretty. Tanned with curly shoulder length hair, she looked like the kind of models that appear on the covers of sports magazines.

Nick seems to be close to cumming. He had quickened his pace and was holding Tessa’s hands above her head. He buried his head in her nape and became more aggressive. Mr Tan’s cock was aching to be released from his pants. He unbuckled his belt and dropped his pants. Pulling his erect cock out of his underwear, he watched his son fucked his girlfriend while stroking his cock.

Nick groaned and made several hard thrusts into Tessa, before collapsing on her. He rested momentarily before rolling off her to the side of the bed.

“Nick, come on. Get up. Fuck me again. I am still horny.” Tessa complained, seeing that Nick seems to be done. “Idiot.”

Tessa did not realise that Mr Tan was watching and still stroking his hard cock. She rubbed her clit with one hand while the other played with her nipples. She slipped a finger into her love hole, feeling the warm sperm that Nick has just left behind. As she fingered herself, she moaned again, softly. It was not as pleasurable as a cock but she was still horny. She closed her eyes, imagining that it was Nick’s cock that was in her cunt, pumping again furiously.

Tessa sensed a presence beside her and opened her eyes. She was greeted with the sight of a large hard cock. She looked up and recognised Mr Tan.

“Uncle, what are you doing?”

Mr Tan did not say anything but put his fingers to his lips, signalling for her to be silent. He took her hand away from her cunt with one hand and replaced it with his other hand. Expertly, he pried open the entrance and slipped his finger into her.

Tessa gasped as the long, knobbly finger slid into her. It was much better than her own fingers. She was already wet with lust and Nick’s sperm. Mr Tan’s finger had little trouble traversing the depth of her cunt.

Mr Tan pressed his fingers upwards, lightly rubbing Tessa’s mound of pleasure as he fingered her. He was promptly rewarded with gasps of pleasure and soft moans. He knew that he had her. He leaned forward and suck on Tessa’s nipples, squeezing her breasts with his free hand. Tessa writhed in pleasure from the simultaneous attack.

“Fuck me,” she whispered.

Mr Tan smiled. He pulled Tessa around so that her cunt now lay exposed to him. He lifted her lands and put them on his shoulder. With one hand, he guided his hard cock into her waiting hole. Even though Tessa was just fucked by his son and he could feel his sperm swimming up to meet his cock, it was still tight. It was after all a young hole. He only managed to get half of his cock in the first thrust. Tessa was gasping. She could feel Mr Tan’s cock reaching much deeper than any other cock.

“Pain. Pain. Slow down.” She pleaded.

Mr Tan paid no heed to her. He pushed in harder and finally, his cock went all the way in. He stopped momentarily to allow Tessa to get used to his cock. When the pain subsided, it was replaced with a warm feeling of pleasure and satisfaction. Tessa moaned softly. Mr Tan smiled to himself and leaned forward to give Tessa a kiss on her lips. As he did so, his hard cock pressed against Tessa’s clit, causing another wave of pleasure through her body.

“Now I am going to show you what it means to be fucked by a man.” Mr Tan whispered in Tessa’s ears.

He pumped her slowly at first, drawing moans of pleasure from Tessa with each thrust. Then he increased his pace with Tessa moaning louder as his pace quickened.

“I am cumming!” Tessa moaned before squirting and convulsing uncontrollably. But Mr Tan only continued fucking her without giving her time to rest. Pleasure coursed through Tessa and she could herself going numb with pleasure.

“Stop! I can’t take it any more!” Tessa pleaded with tears streaming down her face.

Mr Tan paused in his attack, withdrew his cock and turned her over on her knees. He gave a tight slap on her ass and shoved his cock in her cunt again, fucking her in doggy position. Tessa screamed in pleasure. Mr Tan looked worriedly in his son’s direction. He seems to be still asleep.

“Keep quiet. If Nick wakes up, you won’t have this cock any more” He warned Tessa in a low whisper. Tessa nodded, covering her mouth with one hand.

Mr Tan continued to pound her furiously from behind. Tessa tried to muffle her moans of pleasure by pressing her head against the mattress. Mr Tan leaned forward and hugged Tessa from behind. He gave Tessa’s breast a final squeeze before whispering “I am going to flood your womb with my sperm.”

“No, please don’t cum in me. No!” But it was too late. Mr Tan held on to Tessa tightly in his final thrusts, ejaculating his sperm into her. Tessa tried to wriggle out of his hold but Mr Tan only held on to her even more tightly, enjoying the tight warm hole surrounding his cock and the young female body in his grasp.

Tessa started sobbing. “What’s wrong?” For a fleeting moment, Mr Tan was worried that Tessa is going to sue him for rape. “Nick also came in you. Why can’t I come in you?”

Tessa looked at him with a pained expression. “Because if I get pregnant, I won’t know whether the baby should call you father or grandfather.”

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roscgcld · 3 years

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INUMAKI TOGE || scary man

request: The little sister ask is so cute is it okay to ask something like it I don't want to bother you, but if it okay then inumaki toge x little sister reader (5 or6), where she is scared of them because he doesn't visit a lot and is quite so whenever he visit she hides under the bed , poor baby would be so sad,also imagine the other 2d years trying to help him,

I forgot to add this sorry when the other second year try to help him it backfire because she gets attached to maki instead ( string beautiful woman a big sister!) Sorry again for forgetting your writing is so good

note: hello love! no this was not a bother to me at all! I enjoyed writing that imagine! i wouldn’t mind writing a short imagine for this! also, thank you for thinking my writing is good c: it is average at best, but i feel your love~ i hope you enjoy this though!

pronouns: she/her

scene: before yuji’s appearance in the story; since it will be weird to only have maki ><

"This is going to be your future school, by the way!” A tall white man with a blindfold said to the young girl, who was holding onto his hand tightly as she stared at the school in awe. Today was a special day, the Inumaki clan had revealed to the world another Inumaki heir; one with strong cursed energy that is quite the force to be reckoned with. Even though she doesn’t have the Cursed Speech Ability like her older brother does, she still has all the qualms to be a powerful sorcerer in the future. So, with that, Gojo somehow convinces the Inumaki elders to let the young girl to visit the college.

The main reason? For his own student, of course!

Everyone knows how much Toge misses his family, more specifically, his baby sister. He hasn’t seen her since she was born, besides the odd visit here and there that never seems to end well for the two of them. When she was first born, she loved her older brother to pieces, not minding his tattoos and how quiet the man was. But the older she got, and the more she spends time around others who look relatively normal, it become a shock to her system when she realised that her “onii-chan” has scary tattoos on the side of his face.

And only speaks in onigiri ingredients too! What kind of person talks like that?

Gojo had heard this little ‘issue’ form Yuta one day, after noticing that Toge looking more glum then usual after the school gave students permission to return home over the weekend. So, as the loving sensei he is, why wouldn’t he pull some strings to let the youngest Inumaki heir to come and visit the college? She is going to enroll here in the future anyway; and since her brother was going to be there to keep an eye on her as well, his parents had agreed to let her go with the white haired shaman.

Which was how we found the little girl, wide eyed and dressed in a adorable purple and white kimono, walking beside her guardian for the day. Gojo found the young girl quite adorable, having to hold her tiny hand firmly so she was not running about the school to explore. He didn’t want her to fall and hurt herself, since she was technically under his case; but he also wants to see her reaction to seeing her older brother. “Y/N-chan, shall we go and see the onee-chan and onii-chan I told you about?”

Immediately the girl’s eyes widen as she nodded her head in excitement, soft pigtails bouncing along with her movements. Gojo had to slap a hand over his face to stop his laughter from leaving. He may not want kids, but he does find kids absolutely adorable; and wouldn’t mind taking care of them from time to time. “Let’s go then, cutie!” He said after he took a moment to calm down, laughing when the little girl just tugged on his arm excitedly as she tried to lead the way.

Only to pause when they reached a courtyard and turned to look at the older man with a soft pout; as if silently telling him that she’s lost now.

Gojo grins and reaches over to pat the top of her head before he led her towards the courtyard, where he was sure the second year students were resting at. The second years were all on break right now, having had 3 hours of lessons earlier in the day. So the man was able to locate them at their usual resting spot - the cherry blossom gardens, resting on the soft grass under the shade of the still budding cherry blossom trees.

“Yo, second years! I have a guest I want you to meet!” Gojo called out as he led the little girl towards them, who now switch to grabbing onto the fabric of his pants as they made their way towards the small group. Maki and Yuta shared a confused look, wondering if Gojo had fathered a child along the way. Panda had opened one lazy eye, his nose twitching a little at the sight of the young girl. Only Inumaki looked like he had an idea on who she is, perking up a little as he got up hastily. “Bonito flakes!”

“That’s right!” Gojo said with a grin as he clapped, gesturing to the girl that was hiding behind the tall man’s legs; peeking over at the group shyly. “Let me introduce you to the youngest Inumaki heir, and younger sister to our dear Toge-kun, Inumaki Y/N!” He introduced before he carefully coax the girl from behind his legs, squatting down before her as he gave the unsure girl a smile. “Now, Y/N-chan - how do we greet people?”

Immediately the young girl pauses before she faces the group once more, folding her hands before her before she gave them a soft bow. “It’s nice to meet you all.” She said in a soft and shy voice, causing both Maki and Yuta to coo at how cute she was. Neither of them have met Toge’s little sister before, besides seeing the odd video and picture from their friend; so seeing the young girl that’s no more than six shyly greeting them definitely causes them to find her adorable.

Toge, on the other hand, was ecstatic. Even though he does not see her as often, due to college and all, he still loves his baby sister to death. Without a fail he will send birthday and christmas presents to the young girl, receiving videos of his baby sister unwrapping them on camera and thanking him with the cutest smile on her face. However, he knows that she still does fear him - so he wasn’t too shocked when she just shyly clutched onto the front of Gojo’s uniform; shaking her head repeated whilst the older man tried to coax her to go and greet the others.

Yuta, as if feeling her distress, decided to get up and gestures for his friend to follow, both boys quietly making their way towards her whilst Maki stayed back to watch with a smile. “Hello there.” Yuta greeted quietly as he bent down to her height, giving the young girl a welcoming smile whilst Toge stood over the two of them. “My name is Yuta, you must be Toge’s younger sister?” He asks in a kind tone as he gestures to the other boy, who just waves at his sister warmly.

At the sight of the two males, the younger girl freezes up before burying herself deeper into Gojo’s jacket, causing the older man to chuckle as he rests his palm on her back soothingly. “Don’t be scared. Like I said, they are nice people.” He tried to coax the little girl, who refused to pull her face out of his uniform jacket. Her action caused Toge’s shoulders to sag a little, feeling bad that his own baby sister was scared of him.

It wasn’t his fault that his ability causes him to have tattoos on the side of his mouth and tongue. He remembers crying about it when he was younger too, but had gotten used to it ever since. Plus, a few of his uncles and aunts carry the same markings too, so he didn’t feel too alone.

But when your own baby sister is clearly scared of you, anyone would be sad.

Maki, as if sensing the tension, got up before she made her way towards the two, gently smacking the back of Yuta’s head as she squatted down beside the male; who glared at her in response as he rubbed the back of his head lightly. “You’re hopeless.” She grumbled before she turned to face the little girl with a smile, who had shyly glanced over the new addition to the group. “Y/N-chan, my name is Maki.” The woman greeted in a surprisingly soft tone, causing the little girl to loosen her hold a little on Gojo’s jacket. “Your onii-chan has told us a lot about you, and Yuta and I are quite excited that you came to visit us all the way in Tokyo.”

The three males shared a shocked look, having never expected Maki to be able to converse in such a soft tone with anyone before. But somehow she is doing it - quietly talking and coaxing the girl out of Gojo’s jacket; and soon the two girls joined hands to go to the vending machine to grab a drink. Yuta and Toge both blinked, sharing a look between each other whilst the two girls slowly faded off into the distance. Even Gojo was quite shocked by the outcome, grinning over at the two as he rest his face in his hand, his elbow resting on his bent knee with a grin. “Oya? Seems like you’ve got some competition for attention, Toge-kun.”

“...Tuna.” Toge huffed, and if his zipper was down, there was definitely a pout set on his lips as he looked away from the grinning older man. “Gojo-sensei.” Yuta said with a soft frown as he glances over at his teacher disapprovingly, who only gave a cheeky smile in response. Yuta ignored the older male as he got up, gently patting Toge on the shoulder with a smile as his friend glances over at the slightly taller male. “Don’t mind, Toge - I am sure all we need to do is help her warm up to you a little more. I mean, it’s been awhile since you’ve last saw her. Maybe she just needs more time.”

Toge gave his friend an uncertain look, but it wasn’t like there was any other choice. So he just sighs softly before he nods in defeat, to which Yuta just smiles and squeezes his shoulder reassuringly. “Don’t worry - I am sure she’ll talk to you eventually.

As the day continue to go by, Toge was pretty sure that there was no way the two of you are going to be bonding anytime soon.

Throughout the entire day, you have been clearly shadowing Maki around; asking her if she can teach you things, following her about as she went to class; clinging onto her every word as she entertained your curious questions. Yuta wasn’t any better then Toge, but she still managed to talk to him without flinching or running away from him; but she’d have to be clutching onto Maki or be close to the older girl whenever she’s conversing with Yuta. Even Panda had some interactions with you - well, it was more so you jumping and climbing all over the panda with the bright smile and loudly giggles whilst Panda laid there, letting you climb about his fluffy body.

However Maki did actually try to get the younger girl to talk to him - asking the young girl to go and ask if her older brother wanted a drink after class, quietly coaxing her to go and ask him for things like snacks or change for snacks. The younger girl though, was not having it - shaking her head with tearful eyes, silently begging the older girl without using her words. This caused Toge to deflate and his mood to drop significantly. It wasn’t like he can control his appearance to begin with.

To be honest, he had never thought much about his appearance. Because of this, he was used to getting comments and hiding his tattoos so he didn’t really stand out - but when it’s his baby sister, who he loves with his entire heart, is the one scared of him?

Now that was just another low.

Toge whines as he leans back into his seat, watching his baby sister going about following Maki as she went about her day. Yuta, who was seated next to the sulking teen, glances over at him in amusement as he finishes his mouthful of water. “Maybe she just needs some time to warm up to you.” He tried to offer, feeling bad that he was feeling this way. He was sure having your baby sister fear you was probably not the best feeling. Must have been another slap to the face when she ended up falling about your best friend. “I mean, she’s still young. She’ll grow out of this.”

The same boy just whines and tilts his head back with his eyes closed, trying not to think about the entire thing. It was because of this that he didn’t hear soft whispers and footsteps, only looking over curiously when he felt someone gently tapping on his knee. Opening his eyes quietly, he looks pulls his head up just in time to see his baby sister, cheeks rosy and eyes downcast as she held out a crudely picked bunch of flowers. Maki stood beside the young girl with an amused look on her face, looking over at Toge with a raised eyebrow when he looks up as well. “Salmon?”

“Y/N here said she wanted to make you feel better.” Maki said with a grin as he reaches down to pet the soft girl on the hair whilst the young girl just shyly nods her head. “She felt bad, since I told her that you’re sad that she’s scared of you.” Maki continues whilst Toge blinks before he carefully takes the flowers from the girl’s young hand. Quietly she wrapped her arms around his legs, since he was seated on a few seats higher from the ground.

Her reaction caused Toge to freeze, watching as she nuzzles closer and tighter her grip even more. “...D-Don’t be sad, Nee-chan.” She mumbles out in a soft voice, one so pure and innocent that it had all the seniors coo at the little girl quietly. “I-I promise to be a g-good girl..”

Toge felt his heart melt, the sadness he felt from the day melting along with him as he reaches over to pat the top of her head gently. He had hoped that his actions spoke louder then words for him, offering the girl a soft chuckle when she just looks up at him with a bright smile. Wordlessly she held her tiny hand out for him, causing Toge to tilt his head as he grabbed it; letting the little girl start to drag him about somewhere.

Maki and Yuta decided to sit back as they watch the two siblings go off to somewhere on campus, probably to the pond located on the temple grounds to feed the fish together. “How did you convince her to approach Toge?” Yuta asks with a raised eyebrow as Maki took Toge’s place on the stone steps, her long sword resting by her side. “Oh, I just explained that her older brother loves her a lot, and ask her who do you think gets you all of those gifts on her birthday.”

“Ah, guilt tripping.” Yuta teases with a grin whilst Maki just rolls her eyes with a chuckle, nudging him softly. “I would say it’s teasing her how to count her blessing.” Was Maki’s reply as they watch the two walk deeper into the campus, Toge nodding his head with an excited look whilst the young girl was talking non-stop about something.

“But hey, at least both of them look happy.”

#jujutsu kaisen #jujutsu kaisen x reader #jujutsu kaisen imagines #jujutsu kaisen fluff #inumaki #jjk #jjk x reader #jjk inumaki #jjk inumaki x reader #inumaki to/ge #okkotsu yuta #jjk okkotsu #zenin maki #zenin clan #gojo satoru #jjk maki #jjk gojo

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translations-by-aiimee · 3 years

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The Husky and His White Cat Shizun - Chapter 6

Original Title: 二哈和他的白猫师尊

Genres: Drama, Romance, Tragedy, Xianxia, Yaoi

This translation is based on multiple MTLs and my own limited knowledge of Chinese characters. If I have made any egregious mistakes, please let me know.

Chapter Index

Chapter 6 - This Venerable One's Shizun

Xue Meng had lived on Life-Death Peak since he was a child. He was familiar with shortcuts and terrain so he had no problem catching up with Mo Ran

He escorted him all the way to the back of the mountain. The back mountain of Life-Death Peak was the closest place to the ghost realm in the whole world, separated by an enchantment, behind it is the netherworld.

Looking at the miserable situation in the back mountain, Mo Ran immediately understood why that person was clearly at home, but still needed Madam Wang to treat guests in the front hall.

It wasn't that the man didn’t want to help, but he couldn’t step away--

The barrier of the ghost world was broken.

At this moment, the entire back mountain was filled with a heavy spiritual resentment. The ghosts that hadn't taken on a body howled and hovered bitterly in the air. At the entrance of the mountain gate, there was a giant breach ripping through the sky. Behind the breach was the ghost realm, and a tall, bluestone staircase stretching thousand of steps escaped from the barrier cracks. Seeing out from the staircase, the fierce spirits that had regained a flesh body were climbing down this step disorderly and chaotically, rushing from the underworld to the human world.

Any ordinary person would be terrified at the scene unfolding. The first time Mo Ran saw it, he was shocked to the bone, but he was used to it now.

The barrier between the human and ghost realms was set by Emperor Fuxi in ancient times. Today, it was very weak. It would grow weak spots every now and again, which need to be repaired by immortal cultivators. However, this kind of thing not only does little to improve one's cultivation but is thankless with how much spiritual energy it consumes. It was a real drudgery, so few immortals in the upper cultivation world were willing to take this job.

When a fierce spirit was born, the people of the Lower Cultivation Realm were the first to come under attack. As the protectors of the Lower Cultivation Realm, Life-Death Peak was forced to undertake the task of repairing the barrier. The back mountains of the sect faced the weakest point in the barrier all to ensure they could be repaired swiftly.

There would be breaks in the barrier about four or five times a year. It was just like an old, chipped pot; useless.

Now, at the entrance of the ghost world, on the long bluestone stairs, a man stood there with snow-coloured clothes and wide sleeves flowing in the wind. He was surrounded by the aura of his sword, the golden light shimmering. Using his own power to clear out the evil spirits and ghosts, he repaired the small holes appearing in the barrier.

The man had a slender waist and an elegant appearance, with a holy aura and a handsome face. From a distance, it was easy to imagine he was a scholar reading an ancient scroll under a flowering tree. However, looking closely, he had sharp eyebrows, phoenix eyes slanted upwards, and the bridge of his nose was straight and narrow. While he seemed to be gentle and elegant, his eyes were mean and seemingly unkind.

Mo Ran glanced at him from a distance. Although he thought he had prepared himself, when he saw this man appear in front of him alive and healthy again, it made him tremble down to his smallest bones.

Half fear, half. . . excitement.

His Shizun.

Chu Wanning.

This was the person that Xue Meng had cried and begged to see when he arrived at Wushan Hall in the previous life.

It was this man that ruined Mo Ran's ambition, ruined his plans, and was finally imprisoned and tortured to death by Mo Ran because of it.

Logically speaking, if Mo Ran had the chance to avenge himself and defeat the enemy that had blocked his progress.

The sea is wide and free for fish to swim in, the sky is high and the birds could fly endlessly, no one could reign him back anymore. At least, that's what Mo Ran thought.

However, that doesn't seem to be the case.

After his Shizun died, something else seemed to have been buried along with his hatred.

Mo Ran was not a man of culture and didn't recognize any other feeling than being evenly matched with a worthy opponent.

He only knows that here on out, he had no archenemies.

When Shizun was alive, he had been afraid, paranoid, and anxious. When he saw the willow vine in Shizun's hand, the hair on the back of his neck stood on up. He became just like a beaten mutt, just the sound of a wooden club slap caused his teeth to ache and legs to give out. Even his calf muscles would spasm from fear.

Later, when Shizun died, the person Mo Ran had feared the most was finally gone. Mo Ran felt that he had grown and matured, being able to finally commit this act of murdering his teacher.

Afterwards, when looking at the mortal realm, no one dared force him to kneel down, and no longer slapped himself in the face.

To celebrate, he opened the pear blossom white wine, sat on the roof, and drank wine all night.

That night, under the influence of alcohol, the scars that Shizun had inflicted on his back when he was a teenager seemed to feel hot and painful again.

At this moment, when he saw Shizun reappear in front of him, Mo Ran started, filled with hate and anger, but there was also a slight twinge of ecstasy.

Such an opponent, lost and now regained, how can he not please?

Chu Wanning ignored the two apprentices who broke into the back mountains and continued concentrating on fighting the scattered undead.

His facial features were elegant, his eyebrows are evenly long. His phoenix eyes were cast downwards, his cool demeanour powerful. Amidst the demonic air and blood rain, his expression had not changed. His face remained calm, as though he might sit down and burn incense or play the guqin at the moment.

However, such a gentle and beautiful man, at that moment, was holding an icy exorcism long sword dripping with red blood droplets. With a flick of his wide sleeve, the sword's energy sliced through the bluestone steps in an explosion. Crushed stones and bricks rolled down, cracking an immeasurable chasm from the gate all the way to the bottom of the mountain, splitting the staircase and its thousands of steps!

So ferocious.

How many years had it been since he had seen his Shizun's power?

This familiar and powerful dominance made Mo Ran lose all his strength. Shakily, he fell onto his knees with a thump.

It didn't take long for Chu Wanning to kill all the ghosts, and neatly fill in the holes in the barrier to the ghost world. After doing all this, he fell from mid-air and went over to Mo Ran and Xue Meng.

He first glanced at Mo Ran kneeling on the ground, and then raised his eyes to look at Xue Meng, his phoenix eyes holding a powerful chill.

"Causing trouble again?"

Mo Ran sucked in a breath.

Shizun had the ability to always correctly assume any situation.

Xue Meng: "Shizun, Mo Ran went down the mountain, committing the two crimes of stealing and prostitution. Please punish him accordingly, Shizun."

Chu Wanning was silent for a while, expressionless. He coldly remarked: "I know."

Mo Ran: ". . ."

Xue Meng: ". . ."

Both of them were a little confused. Then? Is that it?

However, just when Mo Ran thought tat he had gotten off lucky, he looked up at Chu Wanning and caught a a glimpse of a sharp golden light suddenly cutting through the air. There was a lightening-like crackling sound that slashed across Mo Ran's cheek!!

Drops of blood splashed everywhere!

The speed of that golden light was so fast, Mo Ran didn't even have a moment to close his eyes, let alone dodge it. The skin on his face was flayed open with a fierce pain.

Chu Wanning stood with his hands clasped behind his back, standing coldly in the chilling breeze of teh night air. The air was still filled with the foul aura of fierce spirits and ghosts mixed with the smell of human blood. It made the forbidden area of the back mountains appear even more eerie and terrifying.

In Chu Wanning's hand was a willow vine that had whipped Mo Ran. The vine was narrow and long, with green leaves sprouting from it, hanging down near the edge of his boots.

It was clearly sucha graceful object. Looking at it would have made people think of poems such as "Pliant is the the willow branch I gift to my beloved".

It's a pity that Chu Wanning was neither pliant or had a beloved.

The willow vine in his hand was actually a magic weapon named Tianwen. At this moment, Tianwen was glimmering with golden red light, piercing through the surrounding darkness, and also reflecting in the bottomless depths of Chu Wanning's eyes.

Chu Wanning pursed his lips, and said sensibly: "Mo Weiyu, you are so bold. Should I really not do something to discipline you?"

If this really was the fifteen-year old Mo Ran, he might not have taken this exclamation seriously, thinking that Shizun was just trying to scare him.

But after being reborn, Mo Weiyu had thoroughly experienced Shizun’s "control" with his blood in his previous life. He immediately felt the roots of his teeth ache and blood rushing to his head. His mouth was already moving, ready to deny everything and clear his name

"Shizun. . ." His cheek still bleeding, Mo Ran raised his eyes, staining them with a thin veil of tears. He knew that his current appearance must look extremely pitiful. "This disciple has never stolen. . . has never laid with a prostitute. . . why did Shizun listen to Xue Meng's words and strike me without even listening to my side of the story?"

". . ."

Mo Ran had two tricks to get out of trouble with his uncle. First, act cute. Second, pretend to be pitiful. Now he tried these out on Chu Wanning, trying to look so pitiful that tears almost fell from his eyes: "Is the disciple really so worthless in your eyes? Why doesn't Shizun even give me a chance to defend myself?"

Xue Meng stomped angrily next to him: "Mo Ran! You, you piece of shit! You truly are shameless! Sizun, don't listen to him, don't be fooled by this bastard! He really did steal! All the stolen goods are still on him!"

Chu Wanning looked through his eyelashes, his expression cold: "Mo Ran, you truly never stole?"

"Never."

". . . You should know the consequences of lying to me."

Mo Ran's arms were covered in goosebumps. How could he not know? But he still foolishly persisted: "Shizun, please!"

Chu Wanning raised his hand, and the shiny golden vine waved again, but this time he did not draw it on the face of Mo Ran. Instead, he used it to tightly bind Mo Ran.

This feeling was all too familiar. In addition to whipping people on the regular, the willow vine "Tianwen" has another function——

Chu Wanning stared at Mo Ran, who was held tightly in Tianwen's grasp, and asked again: "Have you never stolen?"

Suddenly, there was a familiar stabbing pain straight in Mo Ran's heart, as if a sharp fanged small snake had slid its way into his chest and was playing with his organs.

Accompanied by the severe pain was an irresistible temptation. Mo Ran couldn't help but open his mouth, his voice hoarse: "I. . . never. . . ah. . . !!!"

Tianwen's golden light seemed to pick up on his lies, glowing harder. The pain caused Mo Ran to break out in a cold sweat, but he still desperately resisted such torture.

This was Tianwen's second function: interrogation.

Once tied up by Tianwen, no one could lie. Whether it was a person or a ghost, dead or alive, Tianwen had a way of forcing them to speak and reveal the answer that Chu Wanning wanted to know.

In his last life, by relying on a strong cultivation base, there was only one person who had finally managed to keep a secret under Tianwen's influence.

That person was the person who had become the emperor of the mortal realm, Mo Weiyu.

After being reborn, Mo Ran had hoped he'd have a bit of luck, thinking that he would still be able to resist the forced interrogation of Tianwen. But after biting his lip for what felt like forever, with big beads of sweat dripping down over his dark eyebrows and full-body trembles, he finally bowed before Chu Wanning's boots in pain, gasping for breath.

"I. . . I. . . stole. . ."

The pain abruptly disappeared.

Mo Ran hadn't even caught his breath before Chu Wanning asked another question, his voice even colder than before.

"Did you commit debauchery?"

Smart people don't do stupid things. Since he hadn't been able to resist before, it was even more impossible now. This time, Mo Ran didn't even resist, and when the pain struck, he went so far to even shout: "Yes yes I did!!!! Shizun please! No more!"

Xue Meng's face turned blue at his side. He exclaimed with shock: "You, how can you. . . That Rong Jiu is a man, you actually. . ."

No one paid attention to him. As the golden light of Tianwen slowly dimmed, Mo Ran gasped for breath, his whole body was drenched as if he had just been fished from the water. His face was as white as paper, his lips still trembling, and he collapsed on the ground, unable to move.

Through sweaty eyelashes, he looked up at Chu Wanning's elegant figure, wearing a green jade crown and wide sleeves that fell to the floor.

A strong hatred suddenly surged into his heart - Chu Wanning! This Venerable One wasn't wrong in is treatment of you in his past life, that much is true!! Even after being reborn, the hatred still burns strong! Fuck all eighteen generations of your ancestors!!

Chu Wanning didn't know that this crafty disciple was going to fuck all eighteen generations of his ancestors. He stood there for a while with a sullen expression, and then said.

"Xue Meng."

Although Xue Meng knows that men were the popular choice among rich businessmen and wealthy households, and many people play with male prostitutes just for something new and not really because they liked men, he still couldn't digest it. After a while, he said: "Shizun, this disciple is here."

"Mo Ran went against the three mandates on corruption, debauchery, and deception. Take him to the Yan Luo Hall so he can repent. Bring him to the Platform of Righteousness and Evil tomorrow morning so that he receive a public punishment."

Xue Meng was startled: "What. . .? Public punishment?"

Public punishment means taking the disciples who have committed severe transgressions in front of the disciples of the whole school, in front of everyone, even the ladies in the dining hall, and punishing them for the crowd.

Utterly shameful.

It should be known that Mo Ran was a disciple of Life-Death Peak. Although the disciplinary measures in the school were strict, because of Mo Ran's special status - his uncle pitied him for losing his parents so young and was scavenging outside for fourteen years - he couldn't bear to punish Mo Ran. No matter what Mo Ran did, he would just get a small lecture in private, and he would be beaten.

But Shizun wouldn't even save the face of the sect leader. He wanted to take his precious nephew to the Platform of Righteousness and Evil and publicly punish and shame Young Master Mo in front of the entire sect. This was something even Xue Meng hadn't expected.

Mo Ran, however, wasn't surprised.

He lay on the ground with a sneer at the corner of his mouth.

How great and selfless his Shizun was.

Chu Wanning was truly cold-blooded. In his previous life, when Shi Mei died in front of him, Mo Ran cried and pleading, pulling on his clothes, kneeling on the ground and begging him for help.

But Chu Wanning turned a deaf ear.

And so his disciple had breathed his last breath before him, and even with Mo Ran crying his heart out next to him, Chu Wanning simply stood there and ignored his sobs.

Now all he was doing was putting him on the Platform of Righteousness and Evil to be dealt with before the public. There was nothing strange about this.

Mo Ran could only resent how weak his cultivation base was now. He couldn't peel off Chu Wanning's skin, rip out his nerves, drink his blood, can’t pull his hair back, can't insult him, can’t torture him and destroy his dignity, make him desire nothing but death. . .

He hadn't been able to hide the beast-like hatred in his eyes, and Chu Wanning picked up on it.

He faintly glanced at Mo Ran's face, a stoic expression on a gentle and elegant face.

"What are you thinking about?"

Fuck!

Tianwen hadn't been removed yet!

Mo Ran once again felt the vines tying him up, and his internal organs felt like they were about to be squeezed into mush. He yelled in pain, panting and roaring out the thoughts in his head——

"Chu Wanning, you think you're so refined! Watch me fuck you to death!"

No one made a sound.

Chu Wanning: ". . ."

Even Xue Meng was stunned: ". . ."

Tianwen suddenly retracted Chu Wanning's palm, turning into a small speck of golden light before disappearing altogether. Tianwen was made from the bones and blood of Chu Wanning and could appear when summoned and vanished at will.

Xue Meng's face was pale and he stuttered: "Shi-Shizun. . ."

Chu Wanning didn't say a word. His delicate black and slender eyelashes lowered, examining his palms for a while. Then, he raised his eyes, his face even, but his complexion even colder. He glared at Mo Ran with a gaze saying "this disciple deserves death", then said in a low voice:

"Tianwen is broken, I am going to go fix it."

Chu Wanning threw down these words, turned and left.

Xue Meng was kind of slow: "How could an immortal weapon like Tianwen be broken?"

Chu Wanning heard it, and glanced back at him with a look of "this disciple deserves death" as well. Xue Meng shuddered.

Mo Ran lay on the ground, half-dead, with a blank expression.

What he had been thinking really was looking for a way to fuck Chu Wanning to death. He knew that the Master Chu, who held titles like "Yuheng of the Night Sky, Beidou Immortal", had always paid attention to elegance and correctness, and he couldn't stand being stepped on by others, defiling him.

But he didn't want Chu Wanning to know that he was thinking that!

Mo Ran whimpered like a stray dog, covering his face.

Thinking of the look in Chu Wanning's eyes when he was leaving, he felt that he probably did not have long to wait until his death.

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#the husky and his white cat shizun #the husky and his white cat shizun translation #2ha #2ha translation #2ha novel #chinese novel #chinese bl #english translation #mo ran #chu wanning #yaoi novel

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coolemmasulivan · 3 years

Text

New Member

Chris Evans x Reader

Resume: Y/a finds out she’s pregnant.

N/A: English is not my first language

You look outside the car window as Chris drove to his mom's house. Winter was almost there and snow had already fallen a few days back. It didn't matter if it was a sunny summer day, cold and colorful autumn, or a white snow day, Boston was beautiful either way.

"Babe, did you heard what I said?" Chris's voice woke you up from your daze. You turned your head and saw his blue eyes looking at you through the rearview mirror. Since Scott had called shotgun first, Dodger and you were confined to the back seat.

"Sorry, what?" They both laughed and Dodger let out a bark.

"Nothing."

You were about to ask him again what had he said, but when the car stopped you realized you had arrived at Lisa's house and next thing you know, Chris's nephews were opening the car door so Dodger could get out and play with them.

You grabbed the pie from your lap and to your surprise, Chris opened your door. Not that it was the first time, but he usually did it when you two went on a date or when you ended falling asleep in the car on your way home after a tiring day.

"You're being very nice. Should I be worried?" You asked him, suspiciously.

He smiled and closed the car door, leaving his hand against it and putting the other on the other side near your head, trapping you against the black jeep.

"What are you talking about? I'm always nice. I'm a friendly and charming guy." He smirked and turned his cap around so the NASA word was no longer visible and the light of the sun hit his face bringing out the color of his eyes.

The scent of his cologne surrounded you and you gripped the pie dish harder. Even after six years together, he still could make you weak at the knees just by a single glance, word, or his strong and fresh cologne.

He leaned closer and looked down at your lips. You did the same, completely forgetting where you were, but Stella laughing alongside her brothers brought you back to the real world. You quickly raised your hand and covered Chris's mouth before he could lock lips with you.

"You're a naughty boy, that's what you are. I know it, you know it, your fans know it. Now get out of my way."

"As you wish." He took his hands from the car but doesn't make a move to step back. His body is still an inch from yours and the smirk on his face makes you want to smash his handsome face and also kiss him like there's no tomorrow.

"Hey lovebirds, what are you doing back there? Must I remind you that are kids in here?" Scott yelled.

You shock the naughty thoughts that were forming in your head and stepped away from Chris, but as soon as you walked away, you felt him slapping your butt.

"Christopher!" You shouted. You quickly turned around ready to punch his arm but he was already running away.

"Love you, babe." He shouted.

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While Carly and Shanna put on the table, you helped Lisa with the salad while she finished the main course.

You were laughing about something that Carly was telling when her oldest entered the kitchen.

"Why down uncle Chris has so much energy? He's supposed to be old." You couldn't help but laugh.

"Hey, I heard that!" Chris said, entering the kitchen with Dodger right behind him. He grabbed the bowl from the floor and put a hand on your back, sending a shiver down your spine. "Sorry, babe." You took a step back and he filled the bowl with water, putting it back on the floor for Dodger. As he bent down, you couldn't help but admire his ass, and seeing his black boxers peeking out of his pants wasn't helping your inappropriate imagination. You turned your gaze toward the bowl of salad and swallowed the lump on your throat. What was going on with me? You thought.

"Y/n?" Lisa called you "I think that's enough tomato, don't you think?"

You looked at her like she had grown two heads. "What?"

"The salad, sweetheart!" You looked at the bowl and realized that you had cut too many tomatoes.

"Oh god, sorry!"

There it was again, his warm and big hand on your back. "Are you okay?

You looked at him and smiled. "Yes. I'm fine." I just want to jump your bones, that's all – you thought to yourself.

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After dinner, you all hang out in the garden and saw an animation movie with a projector screen that Scott and Chris had put up. The kids chose the movie and Lisa made the popcorn.

You were curled up against Chris, with a blanket over your legs and his arm around your shoulders. You took a sip from your drink and looked up at Chris. He was smiling at the screen and sometimes laughed, not forgetting the hand on the left boob. You loved him and the relationship he had with his family was so beautiful, that you couldn't stop thinking about what the future had in store for you two. Did he want to get married soon? Were you going to have kids? How many?

After some time, Chris must felt your eyes burning a hole on his face because he looked at you with a questionable look. "What is it?" He whispered, trying not to bother the others.

You shrugged. "You're just handsome, that's all!"

He gave you the biggest smile. "Says the most perfect and beautiful human being I know." You rolled your eyes and blushed. He took a strand of hair from your face and tucked it behind your ear. "I love you… like, a lot! You know that, right?"

"I love you too." For some reason, you had the urge to cry. You grabbed the bowl of popcorn from your lap and stood up. When Chris asked you where you were going, you simply told him you were going to make more popcorn, even if the bowl was not even empty yet.

As soon as you entered the kitchen, you started crying. You fell against the fridge and slid down until you were sat on the floor hugging your knees and hiding your face. You don't know how long you stood there crying for no reason, but a hand on your shoulder startle you. You cleaned the tears from your face, before looking at the person. It was Chris's mom.

"Why are you crying, sweetheart?" Her voice was gentle and kind.

"I don't know. Chris said he loved me and I don't know… I just had this urge to cry." You stood up and turned the water on the sink so you could clean your face. "I'm so stupid." You let out a chuckle. "I'm crying because my boyfriend of six years told me he loved me for the billion time."

Chris mom rubber your back. "Is it just that? Are you really crying for no reason? You know you can tell me anything. You're family."

"Oh please, don't tell me you love me too or I start crying again."

Lisa laughed at your sarcasm. "Do you want to tell me something?"

"There's nothing to tell."

You just stood there for a few seconds looking at each other, before a big smile showed on her face. "You really don't know, do you?" You gave her a confused look. "Oh, sweety. I think you're pregnant."

You took a step back almost knocking Dodger water bowl. Pregnancy never crossed your mind. You were fine. You didn't have morning sickness, your boobs didn't feel any different – even if lately Chris seemed to like them more than your ass. – and your perio--- "No. I'm not- that's not possible. We always use protection."

"Protection doesn't always protect you. And I'm a mom, I can see a new future mom a mile away. Also, you've been glowing lately."

Yes, your period was late, but you didn't give it too much thought because it was never 100% punctual.

You run your hand through your hair. Obviously, you wanted kids, you also knew that Chris wanted kids, he loved them, but the thought that you could have a baby growing inside of you scared you. What if you were not a good mom? What if the kid doesn't like you? What if something happens before he was born?

Lisa saw the panic on your face and grabbed your hands. "Hey, look at me." You looked at her and took a deep breath. "This is a good thing. It's a baby. Yours and Chris baby." She turned you around to the window that led to the garden. "Look at them! Your baby is going to be so loved in this family."

"I'm going to start crying again." You looked up trying to keep the tears from falling down.

"Tomorrow you'll have to take a test and make an appointment, okay?" You nodded. She smiled and whispered: "I'm going to be a grandma again. I can't wait." You let out a chuckle and she hugged you tight.

"What are you two doing here? The movie's over." Chris asked, entering the kitchen with the rest of the family behind him.

You quickly looked down and petted Dodger so Chris couldn't notice your red eyes. He also didn't have the chance to get closer to you, because his nephews started asking him to read them a bedtime story before leaving.

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You were on the car Dodger head on your lap, Chris and Scott were talking about the movie and the radio was on, but the only thing on your mind was the fact that you could be pregnant. You couldn't wait till tomorrow, you needed to know today, now! So when you saw a grocery store, you couldn't help yourself.

"Chris, stop."

"What?"

"I need to buy something."

Scott looked back. "What are you going to buy?" He had a smirk on his face.

"Lady stuff!" Chris parked the car and you opened the door and stepped outside. "I'll buy donuts too!" The two brothers laughed and Scott yelled: That's my girl!

You entered the store. It was almost empty. You went directly to the donuts and grabbed a few since you knew how much the boys loved them. Last you brought a pregnancy test and tampons, in case Chris or Scott decided to take a peek in the bag. Before exiting the store, you put the pregnancy test on the pocket of your coat – good thing it was a big pocket.

When you got home you gave them the donuts and told them you were going to bed, since it was already pretty late.

In the bedroom, you took your clothes off and put on your pajamas. You took the opportunity that Chris was eating the donuts and went to the bathroom. You opened the box of the pregnancy test and read the instructions.

"Babe?" Chris's voice startled you. You quickly hid the test in the first drawer you saw. A second later he walked into the bathroom. "We saved you a donut." You thanked him and turned around to the mirror and started brushing your hair.

You could see Chris coming closer and soon he was hugging from behind. He gave you a kiss on the neck and his hand grabbed your left boob. "You've been a fan of my boobs, lately."

"I'm a fan of all parts of your body." You laughed. "But yes, your boobs have been calling my name for some time now. They're bigger. It's that time of the month, doll. They just look even more perfect."

You looked down. "They are not bigger! They look the same."

"To you, they look the same because you don't spend enough time looking at them when I could look at them all day."

You felt the panic starting to grown again in your body. It was really happening. You, most probably, were pregnant. Suddenly you felt a strong feeling of nausea coming up. "I'm gonna throw up." You quickly pushed Chris away and run to the toilet. You fell on your knees and thrown up everything you had eaten.

"Doll, you okay?" He grabbed your hair and rubbed your back. After you flushed the toilet, you stood up and cleaned yourself. "Y/a? Are you sick? Is it because of your period? I know it can be bad."

You looked at him. You needed to tell him. "I think I may be pregnant." You whispered.

Chris's mouth fell open, not believing what you had just said. "What?"

You opened the drawer and showed him the pregnancy test. "I brought it at the grocery store." Chris didn't say anything and just looked at the test in your hand. "My period is late, I just threw up, you say my boobs look bigger, I don---"

You abruptly stopped when Chris hugged you tightly. "Fuck! Holy shit." You felt his heart beating faster against you. "Oh god, please be pregnant! Please." You couldn't stop the tears, this time of joy, from falling down. After breaking the hug, he told you to take the test and left the bathroom.

After taking it, you put the time on your phone and went to the bedroom, where Chris and Dodger were waiting for you. You sat down on the bed next to him and waited for the time to go off.

“Are you okay?” He asked you, moving some hair from your face.

“I’m scared.”

“Of what?”

“Everything. What if he doesn’t like me? What if I’m a terrible mom?”

Chris grabbed your face and made you look at him. “Stop it! You’re going to be a great mom. I see the way you are with my nephews and I know you. You are incredible, beautiful and an amazing person. I couldn’t ask for a better woman to be the mother of my children’s.” He kissed you and put his arm around your shoulder pulling you close. He kissed your head and you let your head fall on his shoulder.

When the time went off, you and Chris looked at each other before looking down at the stick in your hand. Before you could say something, Chris stood up and yelled a “yeah”.

“Holy shit. Yes, yes, yes. I can’t believe it.” You laughed at his reaction. He quickly grabbed you and hugged you. “We’re going to have a baby! Fuck yeah.”

“Babe stop yelling. Scott is probably slepping.”

“Fuck that.”

“We’re going to be parents! Oh my god. I love you.”

“I love you more.”

#chris evans #chris evans imagine #chris evans x reader #chris evans fanfiction

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baepsaesbae · 3 years

Text

Masked Windfall

Pairing— Park Jimin x reader x Jeon Jungkook

Genre— SMUT, strangers to lovers au

Warnings— Switch!Jimin, Dom!Jungkook, Switch!reader, threesome, explicit unprotected and somewhat rough sex (stay safe my friends), double penetration (but like a bj and in your business at the same time? I’m bad with terminology I’m sorry), brief handjob, fingering, multiple orgasms, a booty slap, praise kink, slight derogatory kink, brief guy on guy action, nipple play, hair pulling, lots of kissing, teasing, swearing, PHEW I think that’s all? Please let me know if I forgot something

Word Count— 6k

Win(d)fôl: a piece of unexpected good fortune || After a bad breakup, you’ve given up on the prospect of a relationship, and on romance in general. Things take a turn once you get dragged to a mysterious party an encounter an alluring stranger.

A/N— Happy 2021~ I hope you guys enjoy this sinful fic! This was the first fic I ever wrote a threesome scene for and I was quite happy with how it turned out. Reviews and reblogs are greatly appreciated <3

Ever since your breakup, it was as if love was in the air for everyone but you. Seeing happy couples everywhere served as a constant reminder of your bitter split with your longtime boyfriend. Your jerk ex-boyfriend dumped you right before the holiday season, even after you had planned to spend Christmas and New Years’ with him. Left dejected and inconsolable, you gave up on the idea of romance.

“You gotta stop moping around,” your friend, Chungha, tried to cheer you up.

Chungha was single too, but by choice. Boys (and girls) were constantly flinging themselves at her. She didn’t care for a relationship at this time, and would rather opt for meaningless one night stands.

“Come with me tonight!” she excitedly shoved a flyer in your face.

“Love is Out, Lust is In! An exciting one night event dedicated to adventurous singles who just want to have fun…” you read the flyer aloud, “Yeah, I don’t know about that.”

“Girl, you gotta stop feeling sorry for yourself! It’s not your fault that that idiot dumped you. To be honest, I always thought you could do so much better,” Chungha rubbed your back, “I’m not gonna force you to meet anyone new, but one night out can’t hurt. You might even have a serendipitous encounter!”

“Fine, I’ll go. But just to watch over you, I don’t want some creep to follow you around all night,” you caved in.

“I love my little knight in shining armor! This’ll be so fun,” she excitedly clung onto your arm, “I’ll pick you up tonight. Wear something sexy! I think the motif is black? Something appropriate for an anti-lovey dovey stuff.”

It was nearly time for Chungha to pick you up. You concluded that dressing up for the first time in ages was the right move. Maybe it was about damn time to move on from your past.

“Ohhh girl you look amazing!” Chungha praised as you stepped outside, “There’s no way you WON’T be getting dicked down tonight.”

“Oh hush, before I change my mind. I haven’t worn anything this revealing in forever,” you tried to hide your embarrassment.

You were wearing a black mesh top that revealed your bra (the one that makes your boobs look the best of course) paired with a flattering skirt. You felt sexy, but you didn’t have the confidence that you used to. Chungha also looked amazing, but that was a given.

“Where did you learn about this event?” you asked as she drove.

“My friends in the cabaret club told me about it,” she answered.

“You have friends who work in a cabaret club? That’s cool,” you mused as you gazed out the window.

“Not exactly. It’s just called that; it’s really just a group of girls who like to brunch on the weekends. The place we’re going to is known for being a bit secretive,” she smiled.

“What does that mean?” you start to get anxious.

“You’ll see!” she said gleefully.

The venue looked more like some millionaire’s mansion. The property was stowed away at the end of a sketchy road that was more akin to a beaten up dirt path. However, you saw that the lot in front of the house was littered with fancy cars; from G Wagons to Bugattis. The guests emerging from the vehicles all looked like celebrities.

“Where the hell are we?” you asked Chungha.

“Not quite sure, but I can’t wait to find out,” she was also awestruck.

Upon arrival, a gentleman stationed at the entrance requested for your invitation. Chungha pulled out a fancy envelope and casually handed it to him. It looked far more formal than the flyer she showed you earlier.

“Is this your plus one?” he gruffly asked.

“Yep,” Chungha linked her arm in yours.

“Very well. Here are your masks. Enjoy your stay,” he responded curtly.

“Masks? Chungha, seriously. Where the hell are we? I was picturing some dingy club based off of the flyer you showed me. Not to mention that I am drastically underdressed,” you admitted as you helped her put on her mask.

Chungha took the sparkly white mask that was adorned with feathers, which was fitting since it made her look even more angelic. Your mask was matte black accented with gold trimmings. It was far more elegant than the outfit you were wearing.

“Okay, I confess. I made the flyer. I knew you’d decline if I told you it was actually a swanky invite only shindig. I’m sorry for lying! I just really wanted to take you out,” she pouted.

Her puppy dog eyes worked on you every time.

“I forgive you. I don’t know if I’d ever get to experience something like this without you anyway,” you pulled her in for a hug.

“Aw yay! Alright, we’re gonna have a bunch of fun tonight! Also, you look hot. Don’t worry about what you look like. Plus, I have a feeling that people aren’t gonna care,” she says as soon as you both enter the foyer.

Your jaw dropped as soon as you saw the most sumptuous house imaginable. The foyer opened the house up to two grand staircases. The baroque decor screamed nothing but lavish expectations for the rest of the house. Chungha led the way into the large room past the staircases. The room was even more magnificent than the entrance, with white marble pillars creating the doorways.

The place was bustling with activity. Once you finished admiring the place, your attention turned to the guests. Some women were wearing seductive gowns, while others were only wearing beautiful (and probably extremely expensive) lingerie. All of the men were wearing suits or tuxedos. With the motley of outfits you observed, you figured what you were wearing really wasn’t that strange.

“Drinks ladies?” a waitress materialized from thin air.

“Yes please! Thanks,” Chungha quickly grabbed two glasses.

Your eyes widened as the waitress walked away. She was wearing a thin white sheet that was completely see through, and she wasn’t wearing anything underneath.

You realized that this must have been their uniform, as the rest of the servers were dressed the same way. Both males and females.

“CHUNGHA!” a shrill voice cut through the air.

“Ah hey! Thank you so much for inviting me!” Chungha greeted the girl who called out to her.

“Of course! I live for these parties! I’ve never seen hotter men anywhere else,” the girl winked, “My uncle wants the guests to know that all of the servers are available. All the rooms upstairs are unlocked, unless they’re being used of course. I hope you ladies get a good catch tonight!” the girl quickly hugged both of you before scampering away.

“The servers are all available…? For what?” you shot a confused look to Chungha.

“I think you can figure that out,” she smiled sheepishly.

“Chungha, did you invite me to a freaking orgy!?” you cried out.

“You said you wanted to watch over me!” she playfully argued, “You’re already here, ___. You might as well try to enjoy yourself.”

“I guess I’ll settle for people watching,” you sighed.

“Oh! I see someone I know, I’ll be right back,” Chungha squeezed your arm before disappearing into the crowd.

After snatching another drink from a scandalously clad waiter, you retreated to an empty corner. You hoped to observe the guests unnoticed and unbothered. After about half an hour, you noticed an odd pattern. People would woo their target, disappear for a bit, and then return to continue the hunt. Their clothing was often disheveled once they resurfaced, but it didn’t really matter when they were bound to be torn off again.

“Bored?” an unfamiliar voice asked.

“I’m thoroughly entertained,” you answered without taking your eyes off of the party.

“I think I could bring you more entertainment,” the man suggested as he gripped your hips.

“Get your hands off of me!” you push him off.

The assailant was an older man, at least 30 years older than you, and he seemed bewildered that you turned him down. His breath reeked of alcohol, and the dilation of his eyes alluded to his other indulgences of the night.

“I was promised that everyone at this party wanted to have some fun,” he angrily grasped your arm.

You cried out in pain. You were about to punch him in the face until someone else beat you to it. The man crumpled to the ground clutching his bloody nose.

“You little shit! I’ll find out who you are and ruin your life!” the man threatened.

“Mind your tone, worm. Or do I need to beat you senseless to remind you of your place?” your savior shot a baleful glare at the pathetic man who now cowered in fear.

“Are you okay?” your rescuer asked in a soft tone after the man was out of sight.

“Much better now, thank you. That guy was crazy. I’m ___,” you raised your hand for a handshake.

“I’m Jimin. Pleasure to meet you,” he delicately kissed your hand.

His intricate silver mask matched his hair. Even with his face half covered, you could tell that he was remarkably handsome. His dark suit made him look professional yet charming. You felt out of place standing beside him.

“Have you found a partner yet?” he asked bluntly.

“I’m not looking for one; I’m just here to take care of my friend. I don’t think I belong here,” you admitted.

“Why not? I know half of your face is hidden, but I’m willing to bet that you’re more gorgeous than half the people here. I like your style, it shows that you don’t really care for the norm,” Jimin gave you a thumbs up.

Even though it was meant as a compliment, it was off putting to know that you really did stick out like a sore thumb.

“Thanks,” you replied softly, “Have you found yours?”

“Nah, I hate big parties like this. Especially this one,” he shrugged.

“Then why are you here?” you figured that he’d have a line of women begging to sleep with him.

“Much like you, I’m watching over a friend. However, I have lost track of him. Where’s your friend?”

“I lost track of her too,” you laughed.

“If you don’t mind, could we go somewhere quieter? I’d love to get to know you better. Wait, not like that. I genuinely mean I’d like to have a conversation with you,” his flushed cheeks made him even cuter.

“Sure, lead the way, my noble hero,” you took his hand in yours.

It was a bold move, and you usually preferred to play it safe. Tonight was different. You’ll probably never see this guy again. Where’s the harm in flirting a little?

“Of course, my lady,” he played along.

He led you outside to the gardens. Fairy lights were strung up everywhere, giving the gardens an inviting aura. Tall shrubbery caught your eye. Jimin’s eyes followed your gaze.

“It’s a maze,” he said, observing your curiosity.

“This place has an actual labyrinth?” your eyes widened in disbelief.

“Wanna go explore it? I can’t guarantee you that we won’t get lost,” he offered.

“Yes please!” your eyes lit up.

Jimin couldn’t help but smile at your ebullience. How did someone so sweet end up in a twisted place like this?

“Can we take off these silly masks now? I hate wearing mine,” Jimin squeezed your hand.

“Sure, I don’t care. I apologize in advance if you go blind after seeing my face,” you jested.

You both took a moment to soak in each other’s true appearances. Jimin was more handsome than you could’ve dreamt. His individually delicate features attributed to an overall godly image that you had a hard time believing was real.

“Even more beautiful than I imagined,” Jimin acknowledged you with an approving smile, “Let’s ditch this stupid soiree,” he held out his arm for you.

Abandoning the masks on the ground, you practically dragged Jimin into the labyrinth. Corn mazes at Fall Festivals were fun, but this was the real deal. The hedges were at least 3 meters tall. No one would be able to find you if you actually got lost here.

“I think I heard that the trick is to keep to the right wall,” Jimin explained.

“Why don’t we take turns choosing which way to go? Unless you’re scared of getting lost,” you teased.

“Don’t get mad at me when we’ve been stuck in here for days,” he laughed.

You traversed the maze hand in hand with Jimin. The conversation began to flow naturally. Jimin listened to you intently and replied thoughtfully.

The night darkened as the party was left further behind. Normally, this eerie setting would frighten you, but your company made it bearable. Nothing but the moonlight lit your path now. You were too busy enjoying yourself to realize that you both were hopelessly lost.

“I hope you don’t mind me pointing out that this is the third dead end we’ve encountered in the past two minutes,” Jimin elucidated once you found yourselves staring at a green barrier yet again.

“Do you think someone will come to rescue us?” you started to panic.

“Definitely not tonight. Probably not tomorrow either,” Jimin answered brusquely.

“Let’s retrace our steps again. I might end up eating you if we really do get stuck out here,” you tried to joke.

“Eat me?” Jimin chuckled, “My dear, what if I end up eating you?”

“Sorry pretty boy, but I feel like I could easily beat your ass in hand to hand combat,” you laugh as you turn to leave.

Suddenly, your back was being pinned against a hedge. Jimin placed one of his hands on your shoulder and the other one on your waist.

“Let me rephrase that. What if I end up eating you out?” he raised an eyebrow suggestively.

“I might enjoy that. However,” you quickly hook your leg around his knee to dead leg him.

Jimin’s surprise gave you the opportunity to knock him to the ground. You wrapped your right arm around his left arm, effectively pinning him down. You firmly gripped his left wrist with the same arm, rendering both of his arms useless.

“I don’t think you’re capable of doing that right now,” you fake a pout as your free hand wanders from his chest down to his crotch.

He was already somewhat hard when you began to palm him through his pants. You planted a soft kiss on his neck, sucking slightly before breaking contact. Jimin moaned at the sensation, his hips bucking up into your hand.

“What do you want, pretty boy?” you whispered in his ear as you cupped his length in your hand.

“Oh my god I want to fuck you,” he pleaded.

“You’re in no position to fuck anyone,” you reminded him, tightening your grip on his arms.

“I want you to fuck me, ___,” Jimin’s whines grew desperate.

“Is that so?” you say as you unzip his pants, “Here outside? On the ground? That’s a bit improper for a prince like you, don’t you think?”

His erection was fully exposed now. You slowly pumped him, pleased with his length. It took every bit of self-control to not immediately pounce on his dick. You traced your thumb around the soft tip, causing him to moan again.

“I don’t care. I just need my cock buried in you,” Jimin replied between moans.

“You’re so needy. I guess I could help you out,” you release him from your clutches.

Jimin instantly knocked you onto your back as soon as he was freed. He pinned you the same way you pinned him. You were both impressed and shocked that he learned how to do it already.

“That was a cheeky display. Very hot. I admit that I’ve never begged for pussy before, so props to you,” Jimin awarded you plaudits.

His free hand snaked its way down to your clothed pussy, pleased to find that you were already wet. He toyed with your clit through the fabric of your panties. He relished watching your squirm beneath him.

“It’s not so fun being pinned down, huh?” he kissed your neck in a similar fashion, except he ended his kiss with forceful suckling that was sure to leave a mark.

“I don’t know, it’s kind of fun,” you tried to keep your cool, but were failing miserably.

“Do you want me to touch you, my dear ___?” Jimin asked sweetly.

“Please do,” you exhaled with exasperation.

“You can beg better than that,” he admonished.

“Jimin, fuck me until I forget my own name,” you begged.

“You’ll only know my name by the end of tonight,” Jimin promised as he pulled your panties aside.

He slid in a finger to test how wet you were. You squealed with delight as he easily stuck in two fingers. He expertly curled them in you, grazing your g-spot. Your body tried to move to cope with the pleasure, but Jimin refused to let you go.

“You’re staying right here until I say so. I enjoyed going along with your power play, but you have to learn that I’m the one in charge,” he smirked.

His thumb circled your clit as he mercilessly fingered you. Your legs spasmed as your orgasm led a wave of euphoria across your body.

“Jimin, I’m--oh fuck, I’m cumming,” you cried out.

Jimin helped you ride it out, not slowing down his pace. However, he still didn’t slow down afterward. Your clit was oversensitive and tears began to well in your eyes.

“You’re beautiful when you cum, I want to see it again,” he praised as his pace quickened yet again.

It wasn’t long before your second orgasm hit. The bliss was more intense this time, causing you to cry out even louder. Jimin finally pulled his fingers out of you, then promptly popped them into his mouth.

“You taste like a delicacy,” he said after licking his lips, “You ready to take this cock?”

You nodded silently, as you were attempting to catch your breath.

Jimin aligned his hips with yours. He tantalizingly ran his dick along your wet folds. His tip eventually teased your entrance by barely entering before he took it out again. He loved watching your body beg to be fucked; your hips seemed to move by themselves as they tried to buck into him.

“Jimin, I can’t take this anymore. Stick it in already!” you yelled.

“So impatient,” Jimin chuckled, “Ready?”

“Yes!”

Jimin slowly inserted himself in you. You groaned at the feeling of finally being stretched out by his cock. His tip was fully inside you when a commotion interrupted him.

“We’re fucking lost bro,” a guy said.

“We wouldn’t be in this mess if you listened to me in the first place!” his companion retorted.

Jimin immediately pulled out and helped you up. He shoved his erection into his pants before leaning against a hedge to blend into the shadow.

“You’re the one who said you wanted to go in!” the first man bickered back.

“I said ‘I bet no one else is in there, let’s check it out’”, his companion explained.

“Okay, well now we’re lost. We haven’t even seen a single person since we’ve entered.”

Jimin took you by the hand and quietly led you out of the dead end. He didn’t know where the interrupters were, but he simply went in the opposite direction of their voices.

“We’re all alone now. Pull down your pants, Hobi,” you heard one of the guys say.

“Make me, Yoongi,” the other guy challenged.

“You won’t be so cheeky when my balls are in your mouth,” Yoongi replied, his voice suddenly lower and domineering.

The sound of clothes being ripped off mixed with passionate groans and wet noises grew further away as Jimin navigated through the maze.

“They sound like they’re having fun,” you broke the silence.

“That should have been us,” Jimin was obviously annoyed, “I’m gonna get us the fuck out of this goddamn maze. I swear to god, I’m going to dick you down properly tonight.”

You didn’t know which was more impressive: sheer luck or Jimin’s determination. Either way, one of those things (or maybe some of both) allowed both of you to finally emerge from the maze’s clutches.

Jimin dragged you back to the mansion while completely ignoring everyone who called out to him. You’re not surprised by his popularity; this man looks like he was carved by God himself.

The party had only escalated inside the mansion. Guests had started to forgo public decency altogether. You saw at least three explicit acts of fornication on your way up to the private rooms.

Once upstairs, you heard nothing but people deep in the throes of passion on the other side of just about every door. Jimin led you past them all, not even stopping in front of the ones indicated as ‘vacant’. At the end of the neverending hall was a large ornate wooden door. Its style clashed with the sleek marble that decorated the rest of the mansion.

Jimin whipped out a key from his pocket and unlocked the door. You weren’t prepared for what was on the other side. Unlike the modern style that fitted the rest of the house, this room was decorated with wood.

The carved wooden furniture gleamed brightly due to their polish. The room itself was huge. A king sized bed awaited you at the opposite wall. Elegant curtains draped around the bed, reminding you of the beds royalty would use in movies. Even though the room gave off a cozy aura, it still boasted opulence.

“You like it?” Jimin asked once he saw you gazing around the room in awe.

“It’s beautiful. It feels like I’m in some Elvish Woodland King’s room or something,” you spoke honestly.

“That’s high praise,” he chuckled, “C’mon. I believe we have some unfinished business,” he pulled you onto the bed.

Jimin kissed your neck, peppering in nibbles that made you shudder. You slipped off your skirt and panties as he fondled your breasts. You helped him undress as you threw off his suit jacket and unbuttoned his shirt. You held back a gasp when his abs and toned chest were revealed. You figured he was fit, but you didn’t realize how fit.

His fingers found their way back into your pussy. Jimin sucked on your neck as his nimble fingers made you wetter by the second. Your back arched as your moaned in pleasure when his thumb played with your clit.

“I’m so fucking wet, Jimin,” you breathed into his ear.

“All for me, baby?” he cooed.

“Who else? Honestly, I’ve never been this aroused in my life,” you admitted.

“I’m happy I could change that for you. If you liked my fingers that much, let’s see what my cock can do for you,” he winked as he tugged off his pants.

Jimin spread your legs open as far as they could go. He didn’t have the patience to tease you this time. He filled your pussy up with the entirety of his cock. You relished the stretch; you’ve been waiting all night for this the moment you laid eyes on him.

Jimin began vigorously thrusting into you. The sound of his hips slamming into you coupled with the wet noises of your sopping pussy were drowned out by moans from both parties. Hearing Jimin’s grunts only turned you on more, and the same could be said whenever Jimin heard your melodic moans.

Jimin leaned over to makeout with you, his tongue dipping between your parted lips. You clawed at his back while you kissed him back with ferocious reciprocity. You were getting close to climaxing yet again.

“Jimin, I’m so--”

“Missionary? I know you can do better than that,” an unfamiliar voice interrupted you.

“Fuck off, can’t you see that I’m busy?” Jimin replied angrily, yet he never stopped fucking you.

You were so embarrassed that you grabbed a pillow to hide your face. One person seeing you like this was already flustering enough, but two? Although your mind immediately went to shaming you for being in such a compromising position, it was also kind of a turn on.

“Aw, is she shy? That’s cute,” the unfamiliar boy said.

“What do you want?” Jimin finally pulled out to actually hold a conversation with the intruder.

“I got bored. I figured I’d come in here and jack off or something. I didn’t think you’d be using it,” the voice got closer.

“Well, I am. So get lost,” Jimin growled.

Suddenly, the pillow that covered your face was yanked off. Looking down at you was a man whose beauty rivaled Jimin’s (though you didn’t think that was possible). The man had more of a boyish devil-may-care look. His long dark hair framed his face perfectly, as it showed off his sharp jawline. He traced a finger from your cheek down to your chin.

“She’s cute,” he gave Jimin an approving nod.

“Yeah, and she’s mine. Go away, Jungkook,” Jimin was getting more frustrated by the second.

“Yours? Are you guys dating already?” Jungkook raised his eyebrows in amusement.

“No, but--”

“Then it should be fine if I did this,” Jungkook cupped your face with one hand as he bent down to kiss you.

“Jungkook!” Jimin threw a pillow at him.

Jungkook chuckled as the pillow harmlessly bounced off of him. He deepened the kiss, and soon your tongues were swirling over each other. One of his hands wandered over to your breasts. He pinched your nipple, causing you to gasp into his mouth.

“Oh, she’s so sensitive,” Jungkook smirked, “Let me play with her after you.”

“She’s not a toy,” Jimin defended you.

“It’s okay,” you said softly.

“What?” both of the boys asked in unison.

“You can both use me...however you like,” you looked away shyly, bewildered at what you had just said.

“Fuck, that’s hot,” Jungkook grinned.

“You’re too sweet for your own good, ___. Are you sure?” Jimin asked.

You simply nodded, not able to make eye contact with either of them.

“Alright, baby. Let me take care of you first. Jungkook, you can watch how a man properly fucks a lady,” Jimin glared at Jungkook.

Jungkook stripped down to his underwear as Jimin flipped you onto your knees. You moaned loudly as he started hitting it from the back. This position allowed him to penetrate you even deeper. You buried your face in the sheets in an attempt to muffle your whines.

“Nuh uh,” Jimin tsked as he grabbed a fistful of your hair.

He pulled your head up, exposing your lustful moans. He thrusted harder when he heard you. You opened your eyes to find Jungkook intently staring at you. Feeling cheeky, you made a ‘come here’ motion with one of your pointer fingers.

Jungkook happily obliged. Instead of directly kissing you, he licked up your neck, causing you to shudder. He sucked lightly on your neck as he once again played with your boobs.

“You’re not mad, Jimin?” he was surprised.

“She got wetter. Keep doing whatever you’re doing,” Jimin was lost in pure bliss.

Jungkook pulled you into another heated makeout session. You periodically moaned into his mouth whenever he tugged at your nipples. You whined as he broke the kiss.

“Such a good girl,” Jungkook stroked your cheek, “Wanna try something?” he asked.

You eagerly nodded. It was hard to think when one gorgeous man was making out with you and pinching your nipples, while another gorgeous man was roughly fucking you from behind.

“Open your mouth and stick your tongue out,” Jungkook ordered.

You complied, opening as wide as you could. You watched Jungkook reveal his hard cock, which made your mouth water. His dick was bigger than Jimin’s, but less girthy. It had a little curve that made it look prettier for some reason.

“Want me to put it in? I’d love to see how deep you can take it,” Jungkook stroked his cock.

“I’ll take it all,” you said confidently.

Jungkook smiled at your determination. He lightly placed the tip onto your tongue. You twirled your tongue around it, making Jungkook moan with surprise.

“Maybe she’s not as shy as I thought,” he said to Jimin.

Jimin harshly spanked your ass, causing you to jerk forward. You heard him chuckle behind you.

“I love it when good girls go bad. They’re always the most fun,” Jimin reached his hand around you to play with your clit.

You almost lost control in your arms and fell forward when Jungkook grabbed you.

“You have to be a good girl and hold yourself up. We can fuck you from both sides if you do that, babygirl,” Jungkook ran his thumb along your drooly lips.

You propped yourself back up on your arms and opened your mouth again for Jungkook. He patted your head in approval before placing his dick back onto your tongue. He began pushing himself into your mouth, his eyes never leaving yours.

“Blink twice if it’s too much,” Jungkook instructed.

To his surprise, you managed to take in his full length. You kept gagging since Jimin was thrusting you forward, but that just made it feel better for Jungkook. Jungkook let you know that he was going to start face fucking you, to which you nodded in response. Well, as much as you could nod while his penis was in your mouth.

It didn’t take long for both of the both to boys to fuck you in unison. They rhythmically pulled out and thrusted into you at the exact same time. The intensity of everything turned you on so much, you could feel your juices running down your legs.

Your climax hit you like a truck. Your legs spasmed under you as you cried and gagged on Jungkook’s dick. The feeling of you cumming on Jimin’s cock brought him to the edge. Almost immediately after, Jimin pulled out and came all over your ass.

“Switch places with me,” Jungkook instructed Jimin, “You didn’t think you were done yet, did you?” he winked at you before pulling his dick out of your mouth.

Your sensitivity was through the roof. Jungkook didn’t give you any warning before he inserted himself in you. Jungkook went even deeper than Jimin, and your legs were on the verge of giving out.

“It looks like she can’t hold herself anymore,” Jimin observed with a sly smile.

“I guess I have to do all the work. Stupid slut,” Jungkook groaned, abruptly snatching your arms.

He chuckled when you momentarily fell forward onto your face, but he easily lifted you back up by pulling back on your wrists. You’ve never been roughly restrained like that before, but you wouldn’t complain. Jungkook’s powerful thighs slammed into you repeatedly.

You couldn’t begin to comprehend how sinful you looked: titties bouncing, messy hair, and a lustful expression that rivaled that of succubi themselves. Not to mention you were practically glowing from the film of sweat that developed over the night.

“I’m jealous that he’s kissed you more than I have,” Jimin pouted before he cupped your face.

Wriggling underneath you, Jimin made it easier for you to kiss him. His pillowy lips felt heavenly as he playfully fondled your breasts. He didn’t twist or pinch your nipples like Jungkook did. Instead, he massaged them in a way that still felt delightful.

“Dude, your junk is really close to mine,” Jungkook complained.

“I don’t give a fuck,” Jimin responded between your kisses.

Jungkook’s pace started getting sloppy. You could tell he was close just by his irregular breaths. The room was filled with lewd sounds. Jungkook’s grunts, Jimin’s moans, and your mewls all blended into a chorus of carnal pleasure.

“Fuck, you’re so hot,” Jungkook stuttered before pulling out.

You felt his hot juices splatter across your backside. You toppled onto Jimin when Jungkook let go of your wrists. Jimin just chuckled and held you in a warm embrace.

“You did so well, ___,” he praised before kissing your forehead.

“Was that your first threesome? If so, I’m impressed,” Jungkook cleaned you up with a warm washcloth.

“Mhm,” was all you could muster up to answer his question.

“She’s pretty out of it. Should she stay here for the night?” Jimin asked Jungkook.

“You’re offering to house her? You must have really loved her pussy,” Jungkook laughed.

“Shut up, I’m being serious. I don’t want to let her go back out there to those animals,” Jimin disclosed.

“Did she come alone?” Jungkook sat at the foot of the bed.

“She said she was watching a friend...I don’t think she mentioned who though. Hey, ___, darling, who did you come with?” Jimin gently questioned.

“Chungha,” you said meekly.

“Holy shit. Everyone has been trying to get with her all night,” Jungkook was shocked, “Yeah, I think her friend will be fine on her own. I can watch after her if you want.”

“By watch you mean fuck?” Jimin rolled his eyes.

“Who’s to say I haven’t already?” Jungkook replied cheekily, “You’ve been the most fun I’ve had in a while though,” Jungkook affectionately began scratching your back.

Your eyelids were getting heavier with each passing moment. You instinctively clutched onto Jimin tighter. You’ve always been a cuddler when it was time to sleep.

“I’m gonna go, want me to lock the door?” you heard Jungkook say.

“Yes please. I’ll see you tomorrow,” Jimin sent him off.

“Are you sleepy?” he asked while stroking your hair.

“Mhm. And hungry,” you said half asleep.

“What would you like to eat?” Jimin inquired.

“Grilled cheese,” you said without skipping a beat.

“Just grilled cheese? I could get you anything you want. Lobster, caviar, takoyaki, or maybe even steak?” Jimin was eager to take care of you.

“What time is it?” you asked groggily.

“Uh, a little past 1am.”

“It’s time for a midnight snack. And grilled cheese is the perfect midnight snack,” you nodded your head to confirm your reasoning.

“God, you’re adorable. Alright, a grilled cheese will be here soon,” he kissed your forehead again.

“You go make it?” you pouted, not wanting him to leave your side.

“No, I just texted one of the chefs,” he answered.

“Oh, you’re friends with a chef? That’s nice.”

“Somewhat? They work for my father.”

“Is your father the head chef?”

“No, he’s a businessman,” Jimin chuckled.

“Do you like business? Like your father?”

“No, I actually detest it. My father’s riches mean nothing if he can’t even love his family. He does ridiculous things to showcase his ‘love’ but I don’t buy it. Like this stupid fucking party that he throws every year. His excuse is that he’s providing any luxury money can buy. It’s all just bullshit,” Jimin sounded upset.

“This party? Your dad hosted it?” intrigue stirred you from your sleepy state.

“Yeah, this is the house I grew up in. This is my room,” Jimin admitted.

You were silent for a bit before responding, “I’m sorry your dad is a dick.”

“Don’t worry about it, it’s not your fault. At least one good thing came out of tonight,” he squeezed you tighter.

A knock at the door interrupted your thoughts. Jimin retrieved the delivery. Never in a million years would you have thought that you’d be eating grilled cheese off of a silver platter. Jimin ate quietly beside you.

“I don’t know if this is too forward, but would you like to go on a date with me sometime?” he finally piped up.

“I literally can’t think of anyone that has seen me more intimately than you. Well, besides Jungkook. Of course, I’ll go on a date with you,” you leaned over to kiss Jimin’s nose.

“I guess the dating timeline is a little off since you’re spending the night here too,” Jimin laughed before stopping himself, “Wait, you are spending the night, right?”

“I have no idea where Chungha is, and she’s my ride,” you shrugged.

“You’re welcome to say here if you’d like,” he offered.

“I suppose I can clear my schedule for you,” you teased.

With a tummy full of grilled cheese, it didn’t take long for you to fall sound asleep in Jimin’s arms.

[9:24am from Chungha] BITCH! I heard rumors you slept with THE Park Jimin?! A different rumor said you slept with Jeon Jungkook??? Explain please???

[10:19am] What if I slept with both?

[10:20am from Chungha] NO WAY! Tell me all about it asap

“You good?” Jimin nuzzled your neck.

“Never better,” you smiled.

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