#(like… At this point you’re asking to be impregnated) | Explore Tumblr posts and blogs

fairene · 4 months ago

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passenger princess / ln4

established relationship lando norris x fem!reader

no use of y/n, as always.

in which the weekend takes a twist, and all you want is a baby.

prompt⋯ hi! first of all, i absolutely ADORE your writing. i’ve been reading all of your stuff for the past few days!! second, i was scrolling on pinterest and i rediscovered the lando daddy bracelet pic. that combined with THE dutch gp pic made me be down even worse for him. with that i request a fic with an established reader x lando relationship. that’s set during the weekend of the 2024 dutch gp. where he wears the bracelet over the course of the weekend and it gets you(? or me? idk how to phrase that) really worked up, and after he wins they fuck while he’s still wearing it. and it’s like the most rough feral sex known to mankind. but at the end you want him to come in you and he’s like “oh you wanna make me a daddy”. like yes it is a slight breeding kink but it’s more of the idea of the bracelet and how he definitely knew what he was doing when he wore it (in the fic and irl too tbh). that’s the general idea but feel free to put your own spin on it!! i am incredibly down bad for him and that photo did something to me. ty 🤗🧡

a/n ⋯ yeah tbh i got no excuse for this one chat...like...how could i not resist a breeding kink...i know y'all want it too. but for real--- thank you anon for being patient. i had a lot of fun writing this in between doing work. writing is an escape for me. thank you to all for the continued support, and i'll be continuing to get through asks as time moves along. comment below to be added to my taglist, or comment in general! i love replying to all of them as much as i can.

warnings ⋯ SMUT 18+++!!! minors DNI!!!, language, choking, p in v sex (wrap before you tap!), fingering!(f)receiving, breeding kink, impregnation, teasing, possessiveness, jealousy, creampie, begging, mating press-- allat shit tbh. if i miss a warning, let me know.

wc ⋯ 8.5k (unedited.)

things had begun to be different between you and lando. you couldn’t pinpoint the exact moment when the gears shifted, the stars aligned, though you only cared how good it made you feel with him.

but he knew. he knew exactly when.

you’d been dating lando for two years now. it was two years of pure bliss— the exciting lifestyle that you’ve craved, the love and care, the passion that you shared with him was exquisitely yours. he is yours. and you are his.

that morning in the paddock he was speaking to max, chattering about the post collision from hungaroring. they seemed to make up in due time, finding it easier to call one another “brother’s” again, despite the damages done to their cars and the media in an uproar about their impish, punitive behaviors. you didn’t spare any glance towards the comments made about it, knowing that lando had been in a rough shape that weekend.

you played with penelope, p, as they were talking, squatted on the ground with colored pens in your hand. kelly loomed behind, on her phone, thankful enough that you could occupy her for the time being. you had no issue entertaining her. you loved being around children…most of the time.

“this one?” you held out the red pen for p, as she was pointing to with a bashful look. she was shy– especially around you, given your ethereal, wanderlust nature. you carried yourself in such an elegant way that could facilitate a ray of sunlight through the most tepid storms.

she nodded and you handed it to her. she latched her smaller hand around it, coloring in the rb20 from her sketchbook. your hand fell beneath your chin as you watched her carefully color inside the lines, dreading falling out of it. you smiled as she did, the dress you wore crinkling fashionably around your thighs.

p flashed the page at you nervously, awaiting her input. your eyes glowed, sparkles falling onto the page as you scanned it. she really did do a good job.

“beautiful, p!” you commented, your palm splaying over her upper back. “you’re really good at this, you know?”

a shade of red filled her cheeks, warming her skin. you hadn’t meant to embarrass her, nor make her nervous.

“do you want to color one with me?” you asked her, pointing to the pages in the book. she hesitated for a moment, as if she didn’t hear you properly, but ended up nodding with the same excitement that she did when she’d see max on the podium. “you pick. something…pretty.”

the gears were turning in her head as she flipped through the pages, trying to find the perfect one for you and her to work on. you, on the other hand, were focused on how her brows scrunched together as she furiously searched through her booklet. it was cute the way she perceived things. she was a cutie. it made you think about your own future, what you wanted.

what you wanted,

your eyes drifted from the carpeted floors inside the hospitality room, to the shoes that he wore, and up his black jeans to the papaya livery he sported for the day. you lingered on the expanse of his chest, the tan skin peaking through the v-neck of his unbuttoned collar. your mouth watered instinctively, thinking about how lucky you were to have a man like lando love you so deeply.

as you glanced further up towards his chin, the unshaved rigid surface that sparked electricity over your body, you found him already looking down at you. he wasn’t even paying attention to max at this point, already giving you all of his attention and you didn’t even need to ask.

you gave him a smile, covering your lips afterward to stifle your giggle, and turned back to p once she tapped you that she’d found a picture for the two of you to color.

“mate?”

lando was lost in a daze staring at you. gawking at your figure, the dress you decided to wear. it was a denim colored sheath that you’d twin with alexandra with. she’d wear the gia dress in a pomegranate hue, whereas you took the navy.

lando’s hand was cupped against his chin, rubbing over his stubble, keen on watching how you interacted with p.

your relationship had progressed further than he’s ever gotten to before in his life. he was at a point where he knew he didn’t want anyone else, to explore someone else’s body the way he did yours. he knew you, inside and out, and he didn’t think another connection was even fathomable.

you appeared to be so gentle with her, taking the time to listen to what she wanted you to do, how to color, maneuver the pens. there would be no outside the line coloring on her watch, that was for sure.

he found himself smiling bright.

do you want kids?

he knew that he did. he always knew that. but he’d never broach the subject to you directly. your relationship with him was secure, but was it eligible to be taken to the next level? would you be frightened by his sudden urge to create a life with you? a product of him, and the most beautiful woman he’s ever seen?

“yeah? sorry.” lando looked back towards max. but it was too late, and max was looking over his shoulder towards you and p.

when he looked back towards lando, he threw his hands up in defense. max rolled his eyes. “don’t know why you haven’t proposed to her yet. what’re you waiting for?”

lando bristled. he waited a moment to answer, wondering the same fucking thing. what was he waiting on? the perfect time, perhaps. summer break was rapidly approaching, and he certainly had a ring picked out.

the papaya clad driver pulled out his phone and scrolled through his photos, settled on the right one, and handed it to max. the other driver took it, zooming in, not that he needed to.

“when?”

lando shrugged. “summer break. greece, maybe.”

max cheered, slapping his hand over his mouth in shock. “you’re serious, mate?” lando nodded. max pulled him in for a hug, slapping him over the back. he couldn’t be happier for his best friend in this moment, starting to jump up and down. lando settled him down and slid his phone back into his pocket.

“keep it quiet. i want her to be surprised.”

max made a motion of a lock and key. “surprised about what?”

lando felt giddy.

you hadn’t been paying much attention to what lando nor max were chittering about. you’d been so hyper focused on coloring with p, that you were absent minded of the conversation behind you.

p had picked out a cartoon illustration of max and lando smiling towards the viewer. you’d thought it was an adorable choice, and it showed that p was more aware than what she led on to be. she, of course, started coloring in max. with his neutrally blonde hair, redbull cap, she was fast working.

but then she shoved the book towards you, politely anyways, and pointed at lando, who was yet to be colored in.

“my turn?” she nodded her head, handing you the orange marker.

you grinned, carefully coloring in the lines of the drawing before p took a deep breath. “are you and lando married?”

the question had you freeze momentarily, taken back by her question. “no, p, we’re not.”

you continued to color, whilst she continued to question. “why not?”

“because he hasn’t asked me.”

“why don’t you ask him?”

“i’m not sure that’s what he wants.”

p raised a brow. she looked towards lando and max, giggling together like school girls, then back to you and your focused coloring.

she handed you a brown marker for lando’s curls. “i think you should.”

now it was your turn to be inquisitive, “really, now?”

she nodded her head without hesitating. “then you’d be my aunt!” she giggled.

you colored in lando’s curls, carefully, diligently, thinking of how they felt beneath your fingertips. your breath hitched thinking about the thought of him proposing, wondering if he had ever even thought about it. you knew what your answer would be. it wouldn’t even take a beat of your heart to give him in answer, if he chose to ask. if he chose you.

with one final stripe of a black marker, your drawing of lando had been finished. you stood up, and so did p.

“are you going to have babies?”

“p!” you gasped, mouth dropping. “that’s none of your business, young lady.”

she laughed, twirling around. “what? that’s what mama says happens when you love someone.” confident, wasn’t she? “do you love lando?”

“of course i do, p.”

she gasped.

“is there a baby in there right now?!” she seemed concerned, becoming so bold as to touch your stomach. it was a little higher than where your womb sat beneath your skin, but close enough.

you shook your head. “no, honey. i am not having a baby right now.”

she looked disappointed. taking her hand back, she crossed them over her chest.

“penelope, what are you going on about?” kelly finally chimed in, rubbing p’s back with her hand.

“nothing.”

but it wasn’t nothing.

lando appeared behind you, a hand on your lower back. you leaned into him, recognizing his touch, and you got a brief wave of panic wondering if he heard your conversation with p.

“p,” lando said over your shoulder. she looked up. “do you still have your bracelet making kit?”

she nodded again, though you weren’t quite sure what he’d need it for. you guessed you’d find out eventually, because lando uttered, “it’s a secret, sorry baby.”

and he followed p to her small table, pulling out the kit from her backpack. she had taken lando’s hand to guide him, and you watched fondly.

too fondly, you thought, and knew you were in deep shit.

the morning of the dutch grand prix had you biting at the corners of your fingernails with anticipation. the summer break you had spent with lando was more than you could imagine— filled with delicious foods, sunny weather, morning swims, and of course, the sex. with more free time that lando had, he was utterly obsessed with you. he worshiped the ground you walked on, and it made you feel like more than the queen you deserved to be.

in the paddock you stood, shifting on your feet, anxiously fiddling with your purse once your fingernails sufficed. lily joined at your side, ethereal with her effortless beauty, and she nudged you with her elbow. “you look nervous,” she gave a short laugh.

you scoffed but joined in on her antics. “do i?” you certainly did. lily raised her brows to inquire further of your apparent distress.

relenting, you couldn’t resist her. there was no reason to— you were both practically attached at the hip. ever since oscar had been signed to mclaren, the two of you were inseparable. the famous mclaren WAGs.

your relationship with lando had been going on for two years now. sure, you’d had some rocky slopes to climb with the schedule of his career and the development of your own; that’s the thing about relationships though, isn’t it? that no matter what hill you’d have to climb, you’d find one another on the other side. the two of you wanted to make it work, so there was no obsolete universe in which you’d never find each other.

“he needs this, lils.” you practically sighed, finally gaining the courage to look her in the eye. she looked at you with the same softness that a mother would, or a best friend that you could count on.

“you know he’ll do well.” oh, don’t you know it. lando, whilst on vacation, never took a moment’s worth of rest. he wanted this just as much as you did for him, a second career win. it was all that you could think about the moment you stepped off the plane before him in zandvoort. it was going to happen. you had a feeling.

and a good one at that.

qualifying swept by in a flash. the saturday afternoon was a clean sweep for your boyfriend in the front row. you couldn’t be more proud of him. when he was finished with his interviews and taking his leave with his half removed fireguard, you launched at him.

flinging your arms around his neck, he gripped onto your waist and thighs like his life depended on it. it did. your nose found the sweat against the column of his neck, inhaling deeply. you melted into him.

lando felt the same. with his forehead burrowing into the hair on your scalp, he let out a deep breath that he’d been holding since he got out of the car.

“missed my sweet girl,” he breathed, the sweat and perspiration heating the hairs on your head. you sighed softly, relaxing into him as he held you tighter.

you broke away from him, setting yourself on the ground. you stood happily in front of him, rocking on your heels and playing with the hem of the black, sponser-ridden firesuit.

“‘m so fucking proud, lan. pole? pole on the first race back?” you were in shellshock, overjoyed disbelief.

he raised a hand to cup your face before he’d be whisked away. the bracelet on his wrist caught your eye, one that he must’ve put on once he stepped out of the car. the friendship letter bracelet read loudly to you, it letters all capitalized.

‘daddy’

you gripped his hand, observing the ornament. you raised a brow. is this the bracelet he had made with p?

lando let out a short laugh. “like it?”

you flushed, staring down at the small, dainty thing. it had you shifting on your feet, ideas and fantasies running wild through your pillage of a mind. “maybe.” you hummed, stroking the beads with your index finger.

“wore it for you.”

the statement had you standing up straight. “really now?” lando nodded.

and before he was whisked away, he whispered into your ear, “don’t get any ideas, baby. i know that look.”

you were rendered speechless, and by the time you managed to open your mouth, he had already left through the door.

the following day was race day. you were dressed flawlessly, curating perfection with your outfits to match the same prestige that lando had with his fans. also, you enjoyed feeling pretty. looking pretty, as lando would often say to you. he didn’t forget this morning either, arriving to the paddock with you in tow, hand wrapped tightly with yours.

as he took selfie after selfie, signed hat after hat, he didn’t forget to remind you, “you look beautiful,” that always brought a smile to your face, a blush fanning your cheeks.

when the two of you made it inside of mclaren’s hospitality, you were greeted by both lily and oscar. you gave her a warming hug, and she returned it with the same affirmation. when you separated, she danced on her tip-toes. lando and oscar side stepped toward the tea and coffee station, chatting amongst themselves.

“wow!” you were confused, raising a brow. “front row for him, hmm? told you, had nothing to worry about.”

you rolled your eyes, still holding anxieties for the race. you were always concerned going into a weekend. no matter how many grand prix’s you’ve attended, seen lando come out safe and sound, you still picked at the skin of your fingertips. anxious habits die hard.

lando’s managers came in alongside oscar’s beckoning both mclaren drivers to follow them to get ready for the race. lando found you instantly, his hands finding the handles on your hips, squeezing inward. you tensed at the action, wondering what had him on such edge.

you spun, hands running from his chest up to his neck, his cheeks. you cupped his face in your hands, sheepishly smiling.

“you’ll win this for me?”

he scoffed, “always.”

you smiled harder—if that was possible— and connected your lips with his. he returned your kiss, diving deep into your mouth. he held you close by your lower back, as if this was the last time that he’d ever kiss you. he sought to deepen your kiss by the clacking of your teeth, his tongue incessantly searching the inside of your mouth.

you separated yourself, still holding onto his cheeks. lando dipped his forehead against yours, seeking another kiss, but you pulled away. “go. they’re waiting for you.”

“don’t care.”

you flushed, allowing him one last peck before you patted his cheek. “seriously. go.”

he chuckled to himself, kissing the top of your head, uttering a soft “i love you,” before being swept away.

“i love you too.” you mouthed, returning your attention back to lily. she was in awe of how you and lando behaved, carving such a rugged, playful boy into a man of posture and mannerisms that were only reflected by your good nature.

“what?”

“nothing…” she looked away.

“lily.”

“you’ve got that man on a leash,” she broke into a fit of giggles. you looked back to where they were walking out. lando had been looking for you, then at you. he gave a wave, you returned it, then looked back at lily.

“i prefer the term ‘free-roaming.’”

the race was coming to an end with a single lap left. lando led the race with a twenty-two second lead, and your hands were clasped tightly together with your headset on. you listened carefully to his radio messages, sassy and revving, and had your eyes locked onto the screen in front of you. with lily by your side, the two of you were anxiously awaiting the end.

your face suddenly appeared on screen, displaying your glistening eyes, perfectly done makeup and hair. a chic smile grew on your cheeks. you turned towards the camera man and allotted a small wave. your name appeared under the screen, lando norris’ partner.

god…

was there anything more prideful than that?

surely there was, but it didn’t matter to you. you were there to support your boyfriend, lando, your lando, and it was more than enough to see that you were recognized as that.

the checkered flag appeared and lando was on the headline for crossing. you had to clutch your heart, hoping to grip it from the inside out to slow its beating, and it didn’t cease when his mcl38 zipped past the flag.

there was an eruption of cheers throughout the garage and you were swarmed with love by the fellow mechanics and lily, too, who was happy for you to witness such a grand victory. a more than well earned victory.

a second one in the books for him. you couldn’t have been happier.

the podium gathering didn’t take long, and you managed to be at the front of the barricade, shoved forward by the team. you stood there, graceful and beautiful as he always saw you, and you were the loudest to clap and cheer as he walked out from the cool down room.

“your winner, lando norris…!” and you couldn’t help the tears that fell down your cheeks, the camera picking up your emotional feedback on the big screen. his eyes caught to it from the bannister, stepping up onto the tallest podium, and found you right at the front. his heart melted, dripped a red hot flame that burned for you. to see you there for him, emotional above all, solidified his feelings. what he wanted in his future.

you. you above anything else. you above racing, his career, his everything. he had nothing if you weren’t by his side.

he took off his pirelli hat and let the national anthem play. the camera panned away from you then to zak brown. you swayed gently to the anthem, lost in your own world of loving him. you saw him through clear glasses, though he was always your rose. there was nothing more that you wanted in the future than to be with him. you and lando.

after his attributed champagne pop, the crowd dissipated from the pit lane and you engaged in conversations with different women, friends, and coworkers of mclaren. you were jovial with your presence, engaged as much as you could be, though your thoughts kept tracing back to him. lando, lando, lando.

you ended your evening in conversations with the ferrari women— alexandra, rebecca, and one of charles’ friends, marta. you’re a recent acquaintance, meeting her only just a few moments ago. she was noticeably pregnant, and you wondered if that was just the recurring theme of the day.

“how far along are you?” rebecca chimed in.

“about twenty weeks, i think.” she smiled, holding her bump and leaning back into one of her heels to get a more comfortable angle.

“half way there! are you excited?” you asked her, sipping your sparkling water.

“of course,” she grimaced, though there was joy behind her eyes. “it can be hard, but it’s worth it. always worth it to see my husband with my daughter, and now it’ll be brand new with this babe.”

you gave her a heart-warming smile.

“they kick every so often—” she grimaced again, reeling her face into a tight knot. “like right now. do you want to feel?” she was looking at you. it took you a second to understand that she was referring to you, but you jumped at the opportunity.

“are you sure…?”

marta nodded. “put your hand here,” she placed your hand on her right side. you waited a moment before there was a small lurch beneath your palm. you looked up at her in pure disbelief, marveled by such a feeling. you wondered what it’d feel like to feel your own baby kick.

“so…” alexandra leered mischievously, “do you plan on having children? with lando?”

is everyone asking that today?

you stood up straight, embarrassed by the question, and brushed a piece of your hair behind your ear. “for sure. there’s no one else i want. whenever the time is right.”

“he’d be such a good dad.” alexandra added, and you couldn’t agree more.

“you should’ve seen him earlier with penelope—” the girls were reeling at your story. “making bracelets with her. almost tripped over my own dress,” you covered your mouth to laugh, attempting to keep your voice down.

“someone has baby fever.” marta commented.

“ugh,” rebecca groaned. “you two are picturesque. alex and i were just talking about it.”

“oh?” you wished to know more by their insinuation. it wasn’t often that you listened to anything about you or lando’s relationship. half of the time it was negative comments from fans across social media, and you didn’t want the other half to get to your head. you knew you were lucky as is, the least you could do was stay humble.

“ohhhh most definitely.” alexandra nodded. “you’ve been together for what— ever? we’re waiting for an engagement post.”

you were floored. it has been a good amount of time. “so am i,” it came as a laugh. you wondered if lando thought about it. if the thought ever crossed his mind— the possibility of you becoming his wife.

it did.

he was watching you. he’d been done with his interviews for a good ten minutes now, but he was gripped by the scene unfolding before him. he had distracted himself by glancing at his phone, pretending to be scrolling through notifications. but he was staring. hard.

your hand was so tender-loving as it grazed marta’s baby bump. you looked up at her with a graceful smile, asking her important questions about her pregnancy. why were you so interested?

fuck, he hoped the answer he wanted was what you were thinking.

you, pregnant in your floral dresses, pleated gowns, traipsing around the halls of your joint home. barefoot, glowing, effervescent. he could see it now. the vision coming to life, coming to fruition from just a mere fantasy. he felt his dick twitch in his pants, his groin running hot.

he overheard the conversation, too.

“do you plan on having children? with lando?”

for sure. there’s no one else i’d want.

fuuuuck. lando had to turn around, attempting to calm himself down. his entire body was aflame, an eternal gloss of bliss for wanting you. needing you. he needed to feel you. your touch. your skin beneath him, the way you curl effortlessly against the shape of his body.

yeah, he’s fucked.

after a few calming deep breaths, he was at least presentable. with his calmed down cock, he immediately made a beeline in your direction. he wanted—no, needed to get his hands around you as soon as possible. it was a world-ending feeling that suffocated him, gripped him by the throat.

you heard him approach before you saw him. lando’s hands were warm around your hips as he pulled you close. you felt the outline of his cock in his pants as he jut his hips forward. you turned your head over your shoulder, glancing up at him.

his nose found a home in the curve of your neck. you giggled when you felt his stubble tickle your skin, a hand coming instinctively to hold the side of his face tight against your skin. he breathed soundly against you, finding eternal peace of mind plastered against your body.

“it was nice seeing you alex, rebecca.” you began to bid your farewells. “marta, it was a pleasure to meet you.” marta leaned in for a hug, which pulled you away from the warmth of lando’s body. you felt like a snail ripped from its shell— hollow, cold.

“the same for you,” pregnancy looked good on her. though, you can’t recall the last time you’ve seen her without a baby blooming inside her. “if you ever need advice…alex has my number.”

you blushed, feeling lando’s hand around your lower belly tense. “thank you. i’ll be in touch.” you glance towards rebecca and alexandra, following lando’s pace back to the car.

lando’s eyes were hot as they drilled holes into the side of your head. you could feel it, though you weren’t even looking at him. “i can feel your urge to talk, lan.”

he laughed, holding your hand tight in his. “no. no, it’s nothing.”

you stopped dead in your tracks, pulling your hand from his, crossing your arms over your chest.

“okay, okay,” he apologized, taking your hand back into his own, bringing it to his lips to kiss. his lips were warm and wet against your skin. your breath hitched.

“well, go on, then.”

“this is the congratulations i get? damn, baby, you’re rugged.”

you shoved his face away, beginning to walk back to the car once more. “you know i’m proud. don’t be silly, now.”

“i know, i know,” there was a brief silence. “you can show me in other ways.”

“lando!” you gasped, and he broke into a fit of laughter. “dirty bastard.” you mumbled.

“what was that, baby?”

“nothing. nothing. just like what you wanted to tell me, i guess.” two can play at this game. you heard him scoff, but ultimately relent.

“alright, alright. i just…” he became shy with the tone of his voice. you could recognize it instantly. “heard your conversation with the girls, is all.”

you attempted your best effort to still your facial expressions from annoyance, shock, embarrassment, and all of the fucking above.

“you heard…all of it?”

“the gist.”

you tried to cover your face to shield yourself from the world. god, that was your fucking nightmare. you hadn’t ever even touched upon a subject like that with him before. and now he had heard it from you talking to your girlfriends? oh, you just felt like the worst girlfriend in the world right now.

“fuck. i didn’t mean to—”

“no, baby,” he opened the car door for you to slip into the passenger seat. you stepped in, gripping his forearm to sit down.

when he climbed in himself and turned over the engine, you shifted to face him. before you could even open your mouth to speak, he cut you off.

“i want kids, too, you know. with you.”

“oh.” a weight lifted from your shoulders in that moment, and then you felt utterly stupid for thinking that he would’ve reacted badly. this is your lando you’re talking to. a man you can share anything with. “you do?”

he looked flabbergasted. “you’re joking, right?”

you shot your hands up in defense. “i don’t know! children aren’t exactly…temporary. i just— i didn’t know if you thought of me—”

“you’re permanent, love.” his hand wrapped around your thigh as he pulled out of the driver’s lot, whipping past the fans that were keen on snapping a picture of him.

though you’ve known that, deep down, it still hit you like the first time he told you that he loved you. a jaw-dropping epiphany that had been right in front of you the whole time. you’d been short-sighted, enjoying every moment that you had with him, and had become unknowing about the future you’ve been perpetuating with him.

you covered his hand with your own, playing with the bracelets around his wrist. the charm bracelet ‘daddy’ dangled between your fingers, rolling the beads over and over again.

“you’d make a good daddy, wouldn’t you?” you said the words under your breath, but even he could hear them like you’d shouted them in his face. he tightened his grip around your thigh.

“don’t say things like that,” he shook his head, eyes locked on the road ahead.

the air became heavy between you two. when wasn’t it? not only did passion run through your veins, but heinous desire breathed life to your souls.

“why?” you stroked the top of his hand with your nails. “you heard what i said to the girls.” his head lolled against the back rest. “what’s different now?”

you felt the car accelerate. it vibrated the cushion you were nestled atop of, sending shockwaves through your cunt.

“driving me fucking nuts, darling.”

you knew you were. it was the secret to your relationship— the two of you understanding what made you tick. seethe with lust until there was no other option for you to climb him like a tree.

it didn’t take long before he reached the hotel, pulling up to the front. you were getting your things to get up, but he was lost on his phone, pretending to be busy. “coming?” you asked.

“pfft—” you could see him roll his eyes through the rearview mirror. “i wish. give me a second.” you couldn’t help but huff to yourself under your breath, stepping out of the car with your heels clinking to the ground.

with your purse over your shoulder you stepped up onto the curb, but was distracted by a small voice echoing over your shoulder.

down the sidewalk was a mother and a stroller. you smirked lowly, taking only the few steps it’d take to reach the mother and child.

“oh my gosh,” you squealed. the mother was taken back, but by your demeanor and eyes on her baby, she returned a smile. by her pink bonnet and bunny swath, you knew she was the cutest thing you’d ever laid eyes on. “she is just the cutest thing!”

“thank you,” the woman said.

“she looks just like her mama,” you heard lando’s car door open, most definitely within earshot. “don’t you, sweet thing? yes you do!” you cooed at the baby, who erupted in a fit of louder giggles and mumbles.

the mother was flushed, but happy. “you’re too kind. you’re good with children? do you have any of your own?”

jackpot..!!

you clutched your purse as you stood up straight. you played into your theatrics, “oh gosh, i wish! my husband and i have been trying for ages, but he’s just so busy with work…”

the woman tsked with disappointment for you. “you’d make a beautiful mother,”

“you think so?”

she nodded her affirmation.

“that’s so sweet of you.” you were really milking this scene, especially that you knew lando was listening.

“is that your husband there?” she pointed to over your shoulder. and there he was, your husband, watching the two of you from behind the ajar car door.

“mmm, yes, it is.” you offered a cordial wave to him. he stuck two fingers up for a lazy wave, waiting for you to return to him. “i should go. it was a pleasure, ma’am. your baby is adorable.”

she nodded a thanks, and you took your sweet time walking back to the car. you could hear lando tapping the windshield incessantly. before his head dipped down back into the car he called, “get back in.”

you…admit, you were confused. brows furrowed, you opened the passenger side door and bent down, “why—?”

“get in the car,” your name was a rumble in his chest. you still didn’t know what he was doing nor going, and your stubborn self wouldn’t settle for a verbal answer.

you took too long for him. gripping your arm, he pulled you into the passenger seat, and you landed on your ass with a ‘thump’.

he fired up the engine again and pulled out of the traffic circle of the hotel. he radiated with heat— you could feel it from where you sat. “where are we going?”

he didn’t answer you.

you crossed your arms and legs, looking out the window. the area was unknown to you, but lando always seemed like he knew where he was going.

it took only a minute for him to pull into an empty level of a parking garage, dimly lit with only one overhead light at the entrance of the ramp. he put the car in park.

“what are we—”

you couldn’t finish your sentence until you were on his lap, hands gripping your waist so tightly that you had to gasp for air.

“husband?”

oh…!

well, this was a change you welcomed with open arms.

he lowered the seat back until you were straddled atop of him, fingers aimlessly toiling with the zipper of his jeans.

“don’t know what you’re—”

he snapped upward, gripping your chin between his forefinger and thumb. “baby,” he breathed, and you shivered. “what do you want?”

your hips naturally moved back and forth against his own, dress hiked well above your stomach. his hand snaked between your legs, feeling the wet patch in your underwear. he hummed when you didn’t reply, flicking his finger upward to graze your clit.

you mewled.

“what was that?”

your hand twisted around the hem of his shirt. you were already breathless, clenching around nothing except the sound of his words.

“tell me,” he muttered, staring up at your disheveled state. he made quick work of sliding your panties to the side, massaging the folds of your cunt between his fingers. you continued your writhing against him.

“want you,” was what you managed to breathe out, hips rutting against his palm. he tsked, but allowed you this moment. a moment for him to bask in the way that you move your hips, writhe against his clothed cock that was egregiously hardening by the second and each amount of pressure you applied.

he slid his fingers in and out of you with ultra maneuvering, in and out, all around. he was a mastermind when it came to feeling you up, exploring you both on the outside, and the in. you were in heaven, ultimately, when he curled his fingers so deeply upon thrusting them. your cunt tightened so viciously around him that he groaned, his head falling back and his hardened cock thrusting upward. to no avail, his dick was strained against the cloth of his pants.

“fuck,” he cussed, curling his fingers over and over again. your body began to shiver, and only began to fall from grace when his thumb traced against your clit. stimulation grew hotter and hotter, until you let out a piercing moan from the depths of your throat. he angled his fingers differently, making you squirm.

“lando!” you breathed, feeling your climax creeping up on you faster than you could even blink. your core tightened, a coil of veracious flames churning around each other manifesting a slew of energy that released sparks from your nerves. your folds were inflamed, puffy, beating hot that you couldn’t think straight. lando was touching you with his other hand anywhere that he could reach. he palmed your breasts through your dress, twisted a nipple to earn a delicious squeal.

“come on, sweet thing,” he encouraged you with that stupid lopsided smile of his, you were looking down on him, sweat beading at his forehead, pupils blown dark and wide. his hand that was groping your breast moved upward, threading around the column of your throat. “show daddy what you’re made of.”

his hand tightened, and you felt the coil snap. he continued to pump his fingers in and out, maneuvering so perfectly, hitting that exact spot with precision.

he knew you came when your eyes rolled back into your head, legs quivering around his waist. god, you’re a sexy thing.

his hand loosened from around your neck, dropping to your chest, fiddling with the van cleef necklace he had gifted you. it reeked of possession, marking you as his with the “l.n.” initials engraved on the back of the golden surface.

the moment of bliss passed before he was pulling the zipped down from your dress and throwing it from over your head. your panties were next, though the fabric was thin as is. there you were, bare and glistening, before your so-called ‘husband’ as you had worded it. he wouldn’t forget it, a spark igniting within him that was lit by the phrase leaving your tongue. he didn’t think that it would affect him so much—

but it did.

he made quick work of his own pants, shoving them down to his knees beneath you, breathless and needy.

you gripped the hem of his shirt. he lifted his arms to hasten the process, and the shirt went to the back seat. with his skin exposed, you couldn’t help but run your hands along his tan, toned chest. it made you dripping wet, though he was barely touching you now.

with your skin atop of his, carnage was sure to ensue. he took a drag of his fingers against your wet cunt and brought it to his lips. he sucked on them, releasing with a ‘pop.’ your mouth hung open in anticipation for what he was going to do next. he always kept you on your toes.

but this…this is not what you expected.

he took a ring from his index finger, plated in silver, and slid it onto your ring finger on your left hand. the wedding finger.

it stuck to your sweaty palm, sure enough to not slip off.

“let’s make it official then, pretty girl.”

you sat upon him astonished, looking down at the adornment that he had given to you. it dazzled on your finger.

“if you’re my wife, what does that make me?”

the words trembled from your lips, thighs tightening around his own. you could feel his dick sprung to life against your backside. “my husband.”

“good, baby, you learn fast.”

you gulped, finally taking a look at him from his propped upright position. he was downright smitten with you, guzzling everything about you inside of him. you were his, so much fucking so, that he was going to ruin you. and he didn’t even feel bad for wanting it.

“my husband…” you repeated, lowering your face down to meet his own. he smelled so good—a mix of sweat and his cologne.

his hand tangled into your hair, creating a makeshift ponytail to meet your eye level.

“makes me fucking crazy when y’say it…”

you knew that was the truth. you’d known the minute you sat down in the car. his demeanor had changed, shifted to something darker that you didn’t quite understand. it was insane enough as is that you’d discovered so many things about him within a short period of time.

“husband, daddy…what’s the difference?” you cooed, kissing up and down his neck. he groaned, landing a smack on your ass that had you giggling.

“‘ll just make you a mommy if you keep throwin’ that word ‘round.”

you grinned ear to ear. against his cheek, you took a deep breath in, before letting go.

“daddy.”

if you’ve ever made a good decision in your life, this has to be the best. a switch flipped. gears started to turn in his head. the spark plug burst into flames.

you were his undoer,

the key to his shackled restraint,

the sun to his universe.

it was always you. you’d been right in front of him for the past two years. two years to get to this point. two years for the woman he loved most in this world to be sucking his neck whispering ‘daddy’ into his ear.

lando sat upright in the seat. with a hand at the back of your head, he forced eye contact with you. this was different. this look. you could feel it in your heart, your folds, as they began to beat synchronously. life with him was euphoria, and sex had been the serendipitous release for both of you.

but seeking the future together?

heaven incarnate.

despite being locked inside such a tight space, lando managed to swap your position with a suave move. you were on your back, shocked by his carnal rampage, as he hooked your legs upward. your toes scathed the ceiling of the car, pressed deep into the metal chassis.

“kiss me,” you demanded with the breath that you could take. he didn’t waste a second, leaning down to your lips and capturing you with the most breathtaking press that he could muster. his tongue and your own fought for dominance over one another; you lost, quickly, unable to match his revered pace.

he wanted to eat you from top to bottom. devour your insides, carry you with him every day of his life. you would be his, one way or another, and he didn’t care how it was.

lucky enough, you were more than willing to be his bride, his lover, his person.

because he was yours.

then he was inside of you. braving the treachery of your tight walls, he hissed when the tip of his cock slipped through your folds. you’d been dripping on the leather seat.

“fuck, baby…” his head fell to the crevice of your neck and collarbone.

“oh my goddd…” the moan you both let out was terribly lewd, grotesque, even, with how he didn’t start a pace. you both savored this sweet moment of lust, passion, and a figurative toast to a lifelong commitment to fucking one another.

with each thrust he took, he aimed to make a statement. deeper and deeper he penetrated you, his cock crafted of divine measure with how he quartered your g-spot.

you could never stay still beneath him. it had him on edge the way you squirmed. dare say it was one of the most favorite things about you, though the list would be never-ending. you shiver from pleasure, leaning into him as your cunt squelches beneath you.

echoes of moans bounce off the interior of the car, whilst a smile of greed and possession conceives on his own cheeks. the angle he has you at is deeper than any that you’ve had before— it left no room for noncommittal nature, no room for you to complain about wanting him closer, more, more, more.

“y’feel me here?” his hand rest on your lower belly, your womb, as he applied pressure. you do feel him there. the indent of his cock is poignant, bulging out from the skin.

“mhm…!” you whine, trying to keep your mouth shut from the onslaught of moans pouring out.

his attention turned to your tits as he swallowed a nipple whole with his tongue, sucking feverishly at the sensitive bud. it had you weak, dribbling to puddy.

he could only think about how you’d look pregnant. swollen tits, round belly, glowing with his child.

“this what you wanted?” he grunted, his pace quickening. you were too dumb to speak, a droplet of drool leaking from your mouth. “hm? fuck you—fuck, fill you up?”

your back arched at the sentence, not knowing that his words could have such an arousing effect on you. this arousal was different. the way you clench around him was different. your actions spoke a lot louder than your words.

“yeah? i can feel you, darling.” sounds of skin slapping and your hoarse voice could only be heard. he fucked you so good, treated you even better. fuck it, you’d rather be pregnant than anything else.

“please, please…” you didn’t know what you were pleading for, in truth— he was already fucking you like he’d been in a rut.

“yeah? that what you want? want a baby?”

your head nodded furiously up and down, tears of pleasure streaming down your cheeks. lando bent down to kiss them away, followed by a capturing of your lips. he swallowed your breaths, your moans. he trailed kisses down the column of your throat; your collarbones, breasts, nipples, nothing went untouched by his mouth.

“god…these…” he muttered against your tits, voice sending shockwaves through your body. “imagine how big they’d be.” he managed to chuckle to himself. “swollen and beautiful,” he kissed the top of your abdomen.

“lando…”

his head shot up from his daze.

“the time is right. please, please—” your words seemed to hit him like a truck. the foreplay had turned reality, and he was more than ready to lurch into fate.

“what, pretty girl?”

your face flushed, biting your lip. “give me a baby, need it—lan, need it so bad.” your hand found the back of his neck, tugging on the strands of his hair.

he tsked, his pace evening out to a level throttle. your lips formed a sweet pout, and he stroked your chin with his index finger. “give you?” he mocked. “oh, don’t think that’s how we ask, do we?”

“lan…please, please, can i have your baby? need it so bad lando, need it…” you swallowed your breath. “daddy…wanna make you a daddy…please.”

it was more than enough for him. “atta girl.” he grunted, deepening his lackluster thrusts into thrilling rides on his cock. “y’learn fast…kids ‘r gonna be so smart.”

“yes, yes! so good, lan.” you heaved, the heat in your cunt finding a boiling point, and he felt it by how tight you became around him.

“go on, baby, take it. be a good girl and take it all.” you’d do anything to hear your lando call you a good girl. it had been more than enough to send you over the edge into a spiraling orgasm that had slick seeping around his cock. your vision whitened, and you could only see the shadow of your ‘husband’ through the light.

with sloppy thrusts, lando came with ease. he didn’t pull out urgently, letting his cum soak inside of you. he peppered kisses along your ankles, your calves, and let them fall to the seat.

out of breath, your chests rose and fell at a rapid pace. lando’s forehead connected with your own, and through the haze of post-sex, he smiled at you.

you smiled back. the two of you broke into a laugh.

“fuckin’ knew that was gonna happen today.” he commented lazily into your chest. a hand of yours threaded through his brown curls.

“your mastermind plan to babytrap me.”

he raised a brow. “did you plan on leaving?”

you gave him a knowing look. “not in the slightest.”

he became embarrassed and sheepish as he hid his face into your ribs. “no chance of it, now.”

you chuckled, flexing your fingers to see the ring still there. “i want a real proposal, by the way.”

his head shot up. “what? this wasn’t good enough?”

you palmed his face with one hand, and tugged the back of his curled head with the other. “bastard.”

it only took you two ten minutes to get your clothes back on from such a leisurely excursion from the empty parking garage. covered in his spit, sweat, and cum, you didn’t feel….dirty.

when he finally pulled up to the valet and opened the door for you, you stepped out as graciously as possible. though your hair was a tangled mess— you tried your best. lucky enough it was late enough to where minimal paparazzi were gathered. thank god.

you shifted on your feet, shimmying the dress down, but lando came to your rescue. he pulled the dress down where it was crumpled at the back, caught between the hem of your soaked underwear.

“that was a rental, wasn’t it?” you pointed out, looking over your shoulder.

“they should auction it.”

you spun around and laughed in his face, gagged by the ego he has. “you have a big head.”

“need all that room for you.”

“cheesy.”

lando’s eyes lit up— though exhausted from the day and your antics, the sun still rose for him— “almost forgot—” he reached into his pocket whilst you waited patiently.

he pulled out a bracelet.

a friendship bracelet.

“thought it suited you.” he put it around your wrist, and you analyzed it clearly. in white, capitalized letters it read:

“MOMMY”

“you really had this thing planned.” you were impressed.

he shifted on his heels, throwing his hands up as if saying ‘what can i say?’ “p thinks you’re pregnant now.”

you gasped. “lando!”

“i mean…hopefully.” he winked as you fiddled with the jewelry, still not bothering to take off the ring from your finger.

“well…” you brought a finger to your lips, thinking, “we have to be certain, don’t we?”

lando was catching your drift as you walked backwards towards the entrance of the hotel, luring him in with your charisma. “perhaps…”

“so…we need to try again.” he wasn’t going to argue with that. “and again.” or that. “and again, for good measure.”

“you’re gonna kill me, baby.” he whined, chasing you up the steps. you squealed, running forward. inside the elevator you two went, clicking the floor for your room.

after further inspection, lando’s brows furrowed after he glanced over you. “what?”

he covered his mouth to shield his devious smile.

“what, lando?”

he coughed to hide his amusement, but it was a very bad act. “you’re…”

“what?”

“you’re dripping.”

you looked down at your thighs and saw the glistening reflection of his cum seeping out of you. fuck. maybe the first time was the charm, but you hoped it wasn’t.

you really hoped it wasn’t.

tags ; @landoslutmeout@basicallyric@mybluesoul1@toriiez@customsbyjcg-blog@sofs16@strengthandstay@mybluesoul1@f1fantasys@cmleitora @idgasb @amalialeclerc @laneyspaulding19 @staurdvst @oreosareara @sideboobrry11 @mortallyblueninja @fionamiller123 @2pagenumb @marvelfangirl04 @brune77e @allabouthappiness @tellybearryyyy @ringdingdingdingx @tillyt04 @danywonderland @rosebud224 @simpfortoomanymen @nataliambc @forcesensitivesoulmate @sweate-r-weathe-r @norlestappen @madszoca @milkandcookhot @fionamiller123 @16f1lc @jwiltsz @plotpal @inevesgf @theonottsbxtch

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uc1wa · 1 year ago

Text

18+ minors dni

tags: fem reader, kids, penetrative sex, breeding

"she’s really good with kids," roy smiles widely to his best friend, a smile that turns into a smirk when he looks over to the raven haired man. cheeks dusted pink while a stupid, love-struck grin covers his lips.

that is, until it’s not and is quickly wiped off when he feels the gaze on him and a bump to his shoulder. "don’t ya want some of your own?" the red-haired man asks, and jason rolls his eyes. "can’t stand kids, basically have some of my own with all the other shits," jason says annoyedly thinking about his one-too-many siblings that he had grown up raising alongside dick. raising kids as siblings and vigilantes has a tendency to make the average man not want children

but, he can’t help but to feel a pang in his chest when he watches you pick up roy’s baby daughter, lian, from your place in the park a little bit aways from the two men. your arms wrapping around her tiny frame as you hold her close to your chest, pointing to jason and roy while encouraging her to wave at the two men. something of a wave, more of a grabbing fist is executed as she matches the smile that you’re wearing, and jason has never thought about getting you pregnant until this very moment.

like a flick of a switch changes in him. he imagines it’s what animals feel when it's mating season; something primal and deep within him that says he needs to be the reason for a bump on your belly and he needs it to happen immediately.

"c’mon, if you get her pregnant now, lian and yours can grow up together," roy pushes more, waving to his sweet baby while doing so; contrastly speaking to jason about impregnating you like it was as normal as he made it sound. "y’know you want it, big man. plus your babies would be so fuckin’ cute," he fonds, "well, her traits would make your babies cute, i don’t know about yours," roy teases with a laugh, hitting jason’s back.

bidding a farewell to your best friend in law and his daughter, you made your way back into your home with jason following behind, locking the door and making his own way in.

"how many kids do you want?" your boyfriend asks, and it’s hard not to take you by surprise. usually these conversations stemmed from previous important conversations, or something that brought overwhelming intimacy. To say the least, this wasn’t the average conversation that’s spoken as soon as you walk in the door.

this wasn’t the type of conversation to follow spending time with your best friend.

"why’re you asking?" you question, turning on your heel with a pointed look and jason shrugs with a roll of his eyes. his keys rustle against the counter as he walks towards you, his cold hand finding yours and leading you quietly to your bedroom.

“i think you’d look good with my baby,” he says, helping you take your sweater and then shirt underneath off. gently, and without rush, like he has all the time in the world if you’re willing. raising your arms to assist the man with his task at hand, you smile teasingly, “somebody’s got baby fever ‘cause of lian, huh?” and jason scoffs with a small laugh, “something like that. also wanna continue our family if you'd like to help,” he insists with a tease while your hands now find his top, doing the same as he did to you.

his movements are slow tonight, matching the one of two ways you find him in bed. either fucking or making love, and when the latter occurs, you find yourself relishing in every touch that feels louder than they’ve ever been. touches that are soft but with force to be intentional, kisses that are meaningful, especially the one jason presses with soft lips to the spot right under your belly button. his movements that are languid, slow, and rhythmed with every moan and word that he whispers in your ear, say in your neck after he’s kissed the skin there.

months later when he sees your swollen belly, he feels like he’s won the lottery. he feels like you're a prize he’s won and just needs to show off; realistically, he’s keeping you home as much as possible and going out with you in times of needing outside air. your lower back hurts? he’s watched youtube tutorials on massage techniques that help during pregnancy. you have a strange craving? jason’s running out at midnight to get precisely what you’re crazing. oh, your tits are sore after you’ve finally delivered your baby? there’s nothing to worry about when jason asks a quick, “you want my hands or my mouth?”

#BREEEEDDINNGG KINKKKKKIJGDJGR NOWWWWWW #lian woulf so give me baby fever like thats my baby #jason todd #jason todd smut #jason todd x reader #jason todd x you #jason todd x y/n #jason todd x fem!reader #red hood #red hood x reader #red hood x you #red hood x y/n #red hood x fem!reader

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lomlhwa · 2 months ago

Text

mommy (j.wy)

pairing: sex worker!wooyoung x client!reader

preview: you really wanna be a mom, but you don't wanna be tied to a man. so you find a service that offers impregnation with no strings.

tags/warnings: fem reader, exhibitionism (fucking in a very not private room), bondage, mating press, so much breeding, lots of talk about making the reader a mom (of course), masochism, degrading + praise, sir kink, choking, hand kink, pet names (princess, angel, baby), wooyo tries to be professional and fails, so much dirty talk, unprotected penetration (wrap it before you tap it), creampie

trigger warnings: n/a

wc: 1.6k

song recs for this fic: i need u by bts

a/n: someone requested this but i'm not gonna put them on blast (you know who you are)

the sterile environment of the fertility clinic was nothing less than uninviting. the bright fluorescent lights were nauseating to say the least. it almost made you wanna turn around and change your mind, but the secretary spotted you before you could make a run for it. “who are you here to see, ma’am?” she asks you, pushing her glasses back up the bridge of her nose. “um, jung wooyoung.” she scrolls through her computer before finding your appointment. “ah, miss y/n. you’re his 4pm to 6pm?” she asks and you nod. she clicks her tongue before picking up the phone sitting on the desk and dialing a short set of numbers. you hear the sound of the intercom beeping before she speaks. “jung wooyoung to the lobby, please.”

before you know it, one of the most beautiful men you’ve ever seen comes sauntering into the lobby. “you paged me, mrs. na?” she raises her hand and points at you with her bright red acrylic nail. his eyes follow her finger until he reaches you. “she’s your next client. she’s here for the all-in.” a smirk forms on his face as he turns to face you. “hello, i’m wooyoung. please follow me back to our room.” you nod and walk towards the door he entered through. “enjoy your service,” the secretary says, not even looking up from her computer. your hands tremble while holding your purse in your hands and walking down the hallway.

wooyoung pushes open a glass door, leading to a room solely adorned with a bed and a nightstand. you spin around to find a coat stand and place your purse and sweater on one of its hooks. when you turn back around to the bed, you find wooyoung staring at you with blown pupils.”have you signed all the paperwork?” you rock back and forth on your heels as you nod. “i know that mrs. na said you’re here for the “all-in”, but i need you to verbally specify what you’re here for,” he instructs. he leans back on his palms, raising his hips slightly to adjust how he’s sitting. you curse god for the way wooyoung’s grey sweatpants sit on his body. “um, i would like to be a mother. but, i don’t have a partner, nor do i want to be tied to someone for this process. so, i guess i’m here for you to um, get me pregnant.” your voice lowers at the last part, still feeling incredibly embarrassed that this is the way you’re spending your saturday afternoon.

wooyoung rises off of the bed and walks over to you. “you understand this is a completely professional exchange then? nothing done or said means anything?” when he runs his finger over your bottom lip, you start seriously reconsidering your decision. but it’s too late to turn back now. “i understand.” another smirk flashes over his face before he moves out of the way. “well princess, on the bed with your legs spread. i wanna see how this pretty skirt bunches at your waist.” your feet move as if they have a mind of their own, rushing to get yourself thrown on the bed. wooyoung groans at the sight of your compliant body following his every command.

he slots himself between your legs, running two fingers over your slit through your underwear. your hands move to grip his arm and he's quick to pin you down. “professional means you don’t touch.” he leans over you, grinding his hardening cock against your core as he reaches into the nightstand. he pulls out a pretty pink ribbon, waving it in your face. “i’m gonna tie your hands to the headboard since you can’t keep your hands to yourself.” before you can protest or fake promise not to do it again, your wrists are crossed and bound together. you struggle against your restraints as wooyoung ghosts his fingers down your sides, goosebumps following his path.

“much better. i like you like this. so perfect and compliant.” you turn your head away from his dominant gaze, your cheeks heating up. he bucks his hips against yours and a small whimper escapes your lips. you bite your lip to try and suppress any further noise threatening to leave your throat. wooyoung grabs you by the jaw and forces you to face him once more before landing a hard slap across your face. “sluts don’t get to look away from the one who’s going to fuck them.” your cheek stings as wooyoung looks at you with fake pity.

“from this point forward, you will refer to me as ‘sir’, got it?” you press your lips into a thin line before nodding. you hadn’t realized you had booked the kinkiest worker in this establishment. “words, princess.” your face flushes before you respond; “yes, sir.” a wide, toothy grin takes over his face as he leans down to kiss you. his plump lips envelop yours, pressing his entire body against yours. the kiss is a messy clash of teeth and tongue. you tug desperately against your restraints, desperate to feel more of him. you grind your hips up against him and his hands fly to your hips and slam them back down. “bad girl.”

you whine, a frown forming on your face. wooyoung removes himself from between your legs to pull your underwear off from under your skirt. “i don’t wanna take this cute skirt off of you. i love how slutty you look in it.” he admires you for a moment, drinking in your appearance. suddenly, you realize that behind wooyoung, there’s a large window with no curtains drawn over it. your legs snap shut as someone walks by the room, despite them not even looking into the room. wooyoung clicks his tongue and shakes his head, tilting his head to the side. “everyone’s used to what happens in this room, angel. don’t get insecure now.” he grabs both of your knees and forces your legs back open.

wooyoung pulls his sweatpants and boxers down to mid-thigh, letting his cock finally spring free. your jaw drops at the sight. you had read his profile online, and it was adorned with a bright red size warning. a company policy you assumed. but you had seriously underestimated how badly he needed the warning. “scared, baby? don’t worry, i’ll make it fit.” you shake your head, staring at him with wide eyes. “it won’t fit, it won’t,” you babble and he hushes you. “i’ve got you. your pretty cunt is gonna suck me in so perfectly. sluts know how to take dick, right?” biting your bottom lip, you stare at him with a worried expression. “y-yes, sir.”

he brings his hand to his cock, aligning it with your entrance. your body tenses at the feeling of finally getting to what you truly came for. “i’m gonna breed you so well, princess.” his jaw falls slack as he bottoms out into you. “fuck you so full of my cum so that you have no choice but to get pregnant.” you tug so hard against the ribbon tying you down that you worry it might rip your skin open. wooyoung takes his time with the first few strokes, drinking in the way you feel and how your body reacts to him. he admires the way your eyes cross and your hips stutter every time he rolls his hips. “p-please let me t-touch you, sir,” you plead in a soft, high pitched voice. in this moment, wooyoung loses it. he reaches over you to untie your wrists, holding them in his hands. he sees how bruised you are and presses kisses to your wrists.

your arms rest on his shoulders and you tangle your fingers in his hair. he shoves his face in your neck, panting like a dog. “i know i said this was professional, but you’re so pretty i’m already so close.” he pulls away from you and connects his hand to your throat. his long fingers wrap around your neck, squeezing just hard enough to make your vision blurry. “c-cumming oh my god, i’m gonna cum,” you manage to barely get those words out before wooyoung folds you in half and forces you into the mating press. “you’re gonna be such a good mom. you’re gonna look so pretty all swollen with my kid. oh, you clenched so hard at that, you like when i talk to you like this, don’t you? you little slut.” your legs begin to shake as he drives you over the edge, your orgasm making your vision go white.

“just a little more baby, i’m gonna fuck you through it. i’m gonna fill you up so well.” a pout forms on your puffy lips as your body stings from overstimulation. he presses kisses all over your face as his hips stutter. finally, he releases inside you, painting your walls white. he chants praises and compliments as he empties himself out. he pulls out slowly, quick to shove two fingers into your hole to plug his cum inside. he leans down awkwardly to grab your panties and helpy ou put them back on to catch what drips out of you.

he pulls his pants and boxers back up to his hips before speaking. “it’s now 6pm. your session is over. take a test in a month and a half to two months. call the clinic if it fails and you may be eligible for a free second session.” he presses his lips into a thin line before continuing. he reaches into his pocket and pulls out his phone before handing it to you.”i’m not supposed to do this, but please give me your number.” you smile and type out your number before handing his phone back to him.

you can see his smile as he walks out, leaving you to your own devices. you struggle a little to walk but manage eventually. the secretary gives you a knowing smile as she sees you wobble out. “have a good night, ma’am.”

#lomlhwa #ateez #atz #wooyoung #jung wooyoung #ateez smut #atz smut #wooyoung smut #jung wooyoung smut

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starvrse · 1 month ago

Text

CARNIVAL

| pairing : daniela avanzini x fem!reader

| summary : errr u and ur gf go to a fair and u get jealous or wtv

| warnings : g!p daniela, jealousy, p in v, no protection, impregnating talk, ass slapping, cursing, car sex, etc.

| unnecessary bs : 3k words 🙏 glaze me again

walking through the fair, hand in hand with your girlfriend, daniela. the evening air was warm, and the lights of the rides blinked in vibrant colors around you, casting soft glows on the crowd. you had just gotten off the rollercoaster, and now you were both reliving the adrenaline rush. “honestly, that wasn’t even scary, like, at all” you said, replaying the whole ride in your head.

daniela raised an eyebrow, her smile playful but teasing. “don’t even lie!” she grinned, giving you a nudge. “you were screaming so loud, i could hear you over the whole thing.”

you rolled your eyes but couldn’t suppress a smile. “i was just vocalizing my excitement.” you said, trying to sound confident.

“vocalizing?” she laughed. “babe, you were straight up shrieking—and you were squeezing my arm so tight, i thought my circulation was gonna cut off!”

you both burst into laughter, walking a little slower now as you shared the moment. “i was just making sure you didn’t fall off the ride.” you joked. daniela laughed lightly, looking down at you. “yeah, right,” she said, still grinning. “i think i’m the one who was keeping you from flying off the coaster with that tight ass grip.”

you sucked your teeth playfully, the conversation dying down. leaving the two of you to walk in a comfortable silence.

as you got closer to the food stands, the scents of sizzling, sweet, and savory foods hit you all at once. your stomach gave an eager rumble, instantly reacting to the aromas drifting through the air.

“babe, it smells so good over here,” you said, your voice almost wistful as your mouth began to water. daniela let out a soft hum of agreement, her eyes scanning the stalls. “i know, right?” she replied, already looking hungry.

“oh my god! we have to get one,” you pointed at the stall that had “funnel cakes” in big, bold red letters. “it’s basically a requirement at the fair.”

daniela laughed, her eyes practically glowing. “oh, 100%. but like, extra powdered sugar,” she grinned, already picturing the perfect funnel cake in her head. “i want it to look like a snowstorm.”

“you’re gonna be in a sugar coma by the time we’re done.” you said to her, chuckling.

“worth it.” she said, glancing at the stand. “but damn baby, this line’s mad long.”

you shrugged, already stepping toward the back of the line. “it’s okay, i’ll wait. you can go mess with the claw machines or something.”

she gave you a look, raising an eyebrow. “you sure?” she asked, taking out a 50 dollar bill from her back pocket after you gave her a nod of approval. “i’ll win you a stuffed animal.”

“only if it’s a giant bear.” you teased, taking the money from her hand.

“say less.” she grinned, pecking your lips before walking off toward the claw machines that weren’t too far away.

finally, after what felt like 13 years, you were 3rd in line to get your funnel cake. not like you were counting, but it definitely took longer than expected. looking around, you didn’t see daniela anywhere, so you figured she was still messing with the machines.

when you got your funnel cake; extra powdered sugar, just like she asked. you made your way over to where the claw machines were. and then you saw it.

daniela, laughing—no, giggling way too hard with some girl who was clearly flirting with her. the girl’s hand was casually resting on daniela’s shoulder, and they were definitely way too into whatever was going on. the way daniela’s head tipped back, eyes sparkling… you felt this weird, hot twist in you stomach.

feeling that familiar annoyance rise up, even though you knew you had no reason to be mad. she was allowed to laugh, right? but the way she was acting with this girl made you feel like you were just… there. holding the funnel cakes like some kinda afterthought.

you tried to brush it off, but it was hard. that stupid, jealous feeling in the pit of your stomach wouldn’t go away. you gripped the plate a little tighter, walking over to her with more force than you intended.

as you got closer, you noticed the girl holding a plushie, a giant, stuffed unicorn. and then it clicked. daniela was the one who’d won it for her.

“you having fun?” you asked, trying to keep your voice casual, but it came out a little sharper than you meant.

daniela turned around, her face lighting up when she saw you. “yn! look! i won her the unicorn!” she said, holding it up, proud as hell.

the girl beside her giggled. “seriously, she’s amazing at this. i’ve never seen anyone get it on the first try.”

you forced a smile, your eyes narrowing a little. “yeah, looks like she’s really good at it.”

daniela didn’t seem to notice your tone, beaming as she looked from the girl to you. “i know, right? i’ve got mad skills. gotta teach you my ways.”

you nodded, still holding the funnel cake in one hand, but now you were just waiting to get out of there. Was she always this touchy with random girls? you couldn’t stop the thought from running through your head.

“here dani, thought you’d want this before it gets cold.” you said a little harsher than you wanted to.

daniela took the plate, but the smile she gave you felt a little off. as if she was trying to gauge if you were mad or not. and honestly? you were.

“is something wrong..?” she finally let out after examining your tone and facial expressions.

you didn’t answer right away. instead, you turned, starting to walk toward the car, your steps maybe a little too quick, a little too angry.

daniela hesitated for a second, glancing back at the girl, “hey, i’ll follow you back later, okay?” she stated, then followed after you.

“bro, slow down!” you heard your girlfriend yell from behind you.

you didn’t slow down, your mind racing, and your jaw clenching at her words. you didn’t want to explain it, didn’t want to seem petty. so instead, you kept walking, arms crossed tightly in front of you.

“come on, don’t walk off like that. what’s going on?” she questioned, slightly jogging so she could be closer to you.

“nothing’s wrong, daniela. just tired,” you muttered, trying to sound casual, but your voice was tight.

“uh-huh.” her voice was softer now, but you could hear the concern. you didn’t know if you wanted her to chase you down or leave you alone. either way, you were pissed.

when you reached the car, you slammed the door a little harder than you meant to.

the latter slid into the driver’s seat, slamming the door shut behind her (way softer than you did). she tossed the funnel cake onto the dashboard, its powdered sugar already threatening to spill, and then just stared at you. the silence between you two was thick, and suffocating. waiting for something to break it.

you shifted in your seat, unable to handle the tension. “the fuck are you doing? drive.” you muttered, your gaze fixed on the windshield.

daniela didn’t move, her eyes still locked on you, unfazed. “i’m not driving until you tell me what’s up with you.” she said, her voice low but firm.

you let out a sharp breath, refusing to meet her gaze. “i’m fine.” you muttered, staring out the window.

she raised an eyebrow, clearly not buying it. “you’re fine?” she repeated, her tone flat. “okay, cool. then tell me why the fuck you’re acting like I just killed your dog.”

you stayed quiet, jaw clenched, your eyes still glued to the window. you didn't know what to say, didn't know how to explain the frustration building up inside you.

daniela's patience wore thin, and her voice rose slightly. "oh, so now you're just gonna ignore me?" she snapped. "fine. don't say shit, but if you're gonna act like this, you can get out and walk."

you didn't respond, but you could feel the anger starting to boil. you were pissed, but you didn't want to yell. silence felt safer.

"no?" she barked. "then get in the fucking backseat."

daniela heard the scoff as you made your way toward the back, but what she didn’t see was the smirk tugging at the corner of your mouth. you could already tell where this was headed, and while it wasn’t exactly the healthiest choice right now, it was clear that you both needed to let off some steam.

soon, the blonde joined you in the backseat, her hand tenderly gripping your waist, pulling you onto her lap. her slender fingers found their way to your neck, harshly guiding your lips to meet hers in a searing kiss. the intensity of her anger fueling a primal need. her body pressed against yours, kissing you in a rough manner.

the car fills with the sound of your bodies shifting, fabric rustling, and harsh breaths as you both grapple for control. daniela’s grip on your waist tightens, her fingertips digging into your skin, while your hands tangle in her hair, pulling roughly.

she broke the kiss to speak, "you always do this, you know. you always shut down and refuse to talk.” she punctuated each word by grinding you a little harder against her thigh, the denim of her jeans rubbing against the thin fabric of your safety shorts.

you whimpered at the friction, tangling your hands in her curly hair, while you bucked your hips on her leg, needing more.

as daniela’s words fade into the background, you can't help but focus on the sensation of her leg between yours, the friction sparking a fire within you. you grind against her harder, the heat building between your legs, and you let out a soft moan, your head falling back against the seat.

daniela’s hand leaves your waist, trailing down your thigh, her fingers brushing against your inner leg, teasingly close to where you need her most.

you can feel the heat of her hand, her fingers inching closer to your center, your body aching for more. you lift your hips slightly, silently begging for her to touch you there, to quench the growing flame inside you. your breath hitches as her fingertips finally graze your mound through your shorts, the touch sending shivers down your spine.

daniela’s fingers find the edge of your shorts, her touch dancing along the hem. she leans in, her breath hot on your neck as she whispers, "Is this what you want?" her fingers tease, dipping slightly beneath the fabric, but not enough to satisfy the growing ache. you let out a soft, frustrated sound, arching your hips upwards, trying to encourage her to go further.

your body aches for more, your hips grinding against her leg, seeking friction and release. her fingers continue to tease the edge of your shorts, brushing against the sensitive skin of your inner thigh, yet never quite giving you the satisfaction you crave.

"you want it, don't you?" her fingers slip further under your shorts, tracing the edge of your panties. you can feel the heat of her hand, fingers inching closer to where you need her most. "tell me," she breathes, her lips brushing against your earlobe, sending a shiver down your spine. "tell me you want it."

your hips move with the rhythm of her hand, pushing against it, seeking more. "yes," you whisper, your voice hoarse with desire, "I want it."

“too bad.” she says, her warm breath sending shivers down your spine as she slowly pulled her hand away, leaving you empty and aching.

your whimper of protest was audible as she withdrew her touch, the loss of her hand making you press harder into her thigh for friction. “now you wanna make noise huh?” Her voice was a husky purr, full of tease.

she watched you with a heated gaze, her eyes flicking down to where you were still pressed against her thigh, seeking relief. she spread her legs slightly, allowing you more room to grind against her. “you're so desperate for it, aren't you?”

you could feel the frustration building up inside you, your moves becoming more urgent against her thigh. “stop being an asshole and fuck me already!' you said desperately, your nails digging into her shoulders.

the latina rolled her eyes in exasperation at your demands, but she couldn't help the smile that tugged at her lips. “you're so demanding” she remarked, her voice dripping with sarcasm.

with a swift movement, daniela lifted you off her lap and maneuvered you into a new position. “hands and knees” she commanded, guiding you into place. the cool leather against your skin was a stark contrast to the heat emanating from her body as she positioned herself behind you.

She hiked up your skirt, pulling your shorts and underwear down, revealing your bare bottom to the cool night air. she ran a hand over the curve of your backside, then, without warning, she delivered a sharp slap to your left cheek.

you yelped at the sudden contact, your body jolting forward. the pain quickly morphed into pleasure as she began to massage the reddened skin. “so sensitive,” she commented, her fingers drifting between your legs to tease your wet folds. “and soaking wet.”

she rubbed the evidence of your arousal against your thigh before aligning herself behind you again. “spread your legs wider” she ordered, her voice low and demanding. you complied, feeling the cool air against your most intimate area.

she pulled down her jeans and moved her fingers to your hips tightly. “you want me to fuck you like this, don't you?' she growled, pressing herself against you. “in the backseat of my car like a common whore.”

you arched your back provocatively, pressing against her boner teasingly. “then fuck me like one,” you challenged breathlessly, casting a sultry glance over your shoulder. “show me how well you can handle the slut in the backseat.”

her breath caught in her throat at your bold words. “such filthy words coming from that pretty mouth..” she retorted, pulling her boxers down. and without warning, she plunged inside you, making you gasp loudly. she bit her lip at the feeling of your cunt around her, starting a steady rhythm, she gripped your hips harder. “you’re not so tough now, are you?”

you moaned loudly, the sound bouncing off the car walls. “shut up and keep fucking me.” you argued back, pushing back against her to meet her thrusts. the force of her movements made the car rock, the sound of skin slapping against skin filling the air.

your moans grew louder and more desperate as she continued to pound into you, one hand moving to grip your hair roughly. “oh- fuck— god, dani!—don't stop!'"

daniela's other hand reached around to rub your clit, her fingers pressing hard against the sensitive nub as she fucked you mercilessly. your body shook with the force of her movements, your legs trembling on the seat.

the taller’s face was contorted with pleasure, her jaw clenched as she tried to muffle her own moans. “damn it…you're so fucking tight.” she groaned, her hips jerking forward erratically.

pleasure clouded dani’s mind, and she delivered a hard smack to your ass, the enjoyable pain making you moan and hang your head low.

“s-shit!” she screamed, grabbing a handful of your hair and yanking your head back. She pounded into you even harder, her other hand smacking your ass repeatedly.

she hissed in your ear, her breath hot and heavy, “you love it don't you? you always take me so well,” she kisses and sucks on your neck, “just obsessed with this dick, right?” trailing her tongue over a spot on your shoulder, teasing it before sinking her teeth in gently. a giggle escapes her lips as your startled gasp fills the air.

she continued, each thrust accompanied by a filthy phrase, “that’s right, take it—take every inch. you're such a good little slut...” her whimpers sounded like music to your ears. “s-so wet—so tight...does it feel good? does my cock feel good in your cunt?”

you arched your back even more, pressing yourself against her as she filled you completely. “y-yes. dani…” you blubbered, your words slurring with pleasure, 'it—it feels so good n’ d-deep!”

daniela gripped your hair tighter, slamming into you with all her force. “shit…that’s right, baby... take that big dick... show me how much you can handle...” your body trembled uncontrollably, your moans turning into screams of pure ecstasy as your hands clawed the leather seats.

the windows of the car fogged up as the vehicle rocked violently with each thrust. daniela's sweat dripped onto your back as she drove into you relentlessly. “listen to those filthy noises you're making…so pretty..”

your moans grew louder, more urgent, as the pleasure built to an unbearable peak. “fuck! dani i-i'm gonna cum!” you screamed, your body convulsing as a powerful orgasm ripped through you.

daniela's thrusts became erratic, her hips jerking forward as she chased her own climax. “holy shit yn, imma put a baby in you, gonna’ fill you up so good...” She groaned, her body shaking as she came hard, her juices flooding your already overflowing hole.

she collapsed on top of you, her breath coming in heavy pants. 'fuck...that was so good.” she murmured, still slowly thrusting through her aftershocks, her hand possessively resting on your stomach.

after a moment, daniela slowly pulled her length out of you, a string of your mixed fluids following. she watched hungrily as your swollen, pink folds slowly closed around the absence of her length.

you flopped back onto the car seat, your legs hanging limply over the edge. your breath came in shallow pants, your chest heaving as you tried to catch your breath. “fuck dani…”

daniela chuckled at your exhausted state, “answer me, yeah? you ready to talk about your problem now that i’ve fucked the brains out of you?”

she waited for a response, her eyebrow raised. but you could only manage a weak, breathless whimper. daniela smirked, satisfied with your silence. 'i'll just wait…" she noted, pulling up her underwear and jeans, not bothering to zip them up again.

daniela settled in beside you, casually draping your exhausted legs over her lap. her fingers absently kneaded your tender ass cheeks, relishing the subtle bruises forming there—the physical map of her passionate assault.

she smirked, enjoying the view of your thoroughly ravaged body sprawled out next to her. "looks like my princess is gonna need a few more minutes before she can form words again."

head so good she a honor roll 😋 finally dropped i hope this feels like playboi carti dropping an album 🙏🙏 ngl i forgot reader had a skirt on still so 😅

#starvrse #daniela avanzini #daniela x reader #katseye x reader #katseye smut #daniela smut #g!p daniela #kpop smut #gg smut #x female reader #daniela x female reader #kpop fanfic #katseye

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tiredfox64 · 7 months ago

Note

Could you write something about a reader falling in love with Syzoth, them developing a cute relationship but the reader finding out that he has some kind of breeding kink?

I've noticed that almost no one writes about Syzoth and that's so unfair 😭

Slither In

Yip notes: Is it really a breeding kink if it's in his nature?

Pairing: Syzoth x Afab reader

Warnings‼️: NSFW, breeding kink, two down there (I can't say it), monster fucking, biting

Your boyfriend is the absolute cutest. He is the sweetest reptilian you ever met. His eyes shine brighter than emeralds in the sun whenever he looks at you. You are his queen whom he would gladly impregnate with his kin.

And I mean gladly.

Ever since you both met, he knew he could trust you. You never feared his true form. You loved both forms equally. You actually found it awesome and were fascinated by it. You would marvel at his long, strong tail. You would hold onto his face as you took in every detail like his sharp teeth or his slit eyes. You looked at him like he was the most beautiful creature you ever laid your eyes upon. For that, you gained his affection.

You were the one person he would visit when he went to Earthrealm. He would wait for you when you’d come to visit him in Outworld. He couldn’t get enough of you. You were like a juicy bug that he had no idea was induced with addictive drugs. He needed to see you the second you visited or the second he stepped into Earthrealm.

Of course, you two would develop a relationship. He was comfortable with you because you didn’t judge him. Even when he ate crickets in front of you, you never grimaced. You actually started buying him crickets for him to eat when he visited. Gosh, his heart melted and he knew you were the one for him. Not even his own people treated him this well.

You two became quite the talking point. Johnny was congratulating Syzoth for finding a wonderful lady like you. Kung Lao was quite jealous of him while Raiden told Kung Lao to just be happy for him. Even Liu Kang was happy to see that something good came into Syzoth’s life.

Trust me when I say you two were THE couple. Girls were jealous that you had a good man following you around, staring at you with love in his eyes. He would ask if you wanted him to do anything for you like carry you around if your feet got tired. No, he knows you can walk on your own. He wants to take care of you, that’s all. It’s all because of love.

When love combines with his Zatteran nature, he starts to act differently.

You started noticing Syzoth act differently after dating for half a year. This whole time he has been polite and sweet to you. The perfect gentleman really. But then he started getting frustrated, not with you but with himself. You couldn’t understand at first until you saw the signs. You heard him stomp his legs whenever you turned your back to him. Or he would bob his head before holding his neck like he was trying to stop himself from doing it again. You couldn’t miss those moments when you and Syzoth would cuddle and you felt his hands rub your belly. It wasn’t in circles but up and down like what one would do to a pregnant belly.

When you’d ask him what he was up to he would stop immediately before apologizing.

“I-I’m sorry, my beloved. I did not mean to disturb you.” He’d remove his hands from your stomach and go back to the cuddling position you two were in before.

“There’s no need to apologize. I was just curious.” You didn’t sound upset at all but he would refrain from telling you his true feelings.

The truth is…Syzoth wants to mate with you. He understands that humans don’t work the same as him regarding breeding. He doesn’t want to make you feel trapped or scare you away with his wants. You’re the first good thing he has gained since leaving Zattera. So he keeps to himself and pushes down his nature. Easier said than done.

More stomping, more head bobbing, more staring at your stomach. He’s damn near clawing the kitchen counter trying not to pounce on you when you turn your back to him. He started looking up at you with pleading eyes whenever he rested his head on your stomach. He was like a dog begging for a treat. He was begging you to have his babies. Yet his mouth wouldn’t move to ask you the question.

Syzoth grew sad quickly. Rubbing one out would not fulfill his needs. He couldn’t do anything with you because he knew he wouldn’t pullout. This irritation grew more and more every day. Since Syzoth wasn’t telling you what was wrong you thought it was a guy issue. You invited Johnny over to see if maybe he could get an answer out of him. And an answer he received the moment he sat down on the couch and asked him what was wrong.

“I cannot take it anymore, Johnny!” Syzoth grabbed Johnny by the collar of his shirt as he hissed out his words.

“Can’t take what? Relax, man. You’re acting desperate or something.” Johnny teased to lighten the mood, but after looking at Syzoth, he realized he was telling the truth.

“I-I want—I need…” Syzoth took a deep breath before continuing, “I want to breed her. I need to. I am unable to help it.” He pulled his hood down to hide his shameful eyes.

Johnny was doing his best to make Syzoth calm down. It didn’t help that he was not saying that it was normal but instead saying it’s just how he is because he is a huge lizard. Never ask this guy to comfort anyone.

Little did they know that you were just around the corner. You heard everything and were slightly shocked. You’re not oblivious to his animalistic nature but you thought he had it under control or even adapted to not having a breeding period. You’re not mad at him and you wanted to comfort him to let him know it was alright to feel that way. But you decided to wait. You didn’t want him to know you were listening. You would wait for Johnny to leave before confronting your boyfriend.

══💤══╡°˖✧🦊✧˖°╞══💤══

Once Johnny left you told Syzoth to come to your bedroom as you had something to discuss. His heartbeat raced to the point it felt like it was thumping against his chest. He was concerned about what you had to say.

You began telling him about what you heard and you watched his face fill with shame. He was like a guilty puppy. Before you could finish and bring up your next point he was already on his knees, beginning for your forgiveness.

“I’m sorry. Please, don’t leave me. I will not force you to do any-“

“Syzoth!” You yelled which stopped Syzoth from rambling.

“I’m not mad at you. I was just surprised that this was something you wanted. I just wished you talked about it with me so we could have discussed it further.” Your hand went down so you could stroke his hair. He was still shocked but it calmed him a little.

Syzoth really should have said something. He should have known you wouldn’t judge him. If you could handle his real form you could handle his need to breed you. He sighed in relief as he let you pet him. That was until you spoke again.

“Now, how about we fix that little problem of yours?” You teased.

Syzoth looked up at you. At first you were unsure if you offended him. But then his large tail popped out and started pounding the ground. Yeah, he’s ready for this.

══💤══╡°˖✧🦊✧˖°╞══💤══

Oh dear, he was holding back a lot. He’s an animal in bed, not literally but it will happen soon.

Syzoth was quick to take his clothes off. His two cocks were standing proud before diving into your warm pussy.

You stared into his eyes as he pounds into you, his second cock rubbing against your clit. The tip of his second cock tapped against your stomach every time he thrusted in. It left little droplets of precum on your stomach. The one that was in you felt like it was touching your stomach from the inside. He knew how to use it well.

He was rough but not fast. His mind was more on the goal of cumming deep inside of you. He can’t risk going fast and having it accidentally slip out. With each thrust, it reached places no guy had hit. But Syzoth isn’t your ordinary guy so why even be surprised?

He was watching every reaction you let out. He watched how your eyes rolled back before looking back at him. He watched you struggle to keep yourself quiet by biting your lip. Meanwhile in his mind he was already imagining you becoming more plump as you carry his children. He would be there to protect you and the babies, however many there would be. He’ll take care of everything so you don’t have to lift a finger. All you would have to do is stay healthy and be his beautiful woman. And soon, he’ll make you his wife.

But let’s get through the baby making first before getting to that.

Syzoth moved your legs to lay on his shoulders. It gave him easier access to go deeper and you felt that immediately. He shoved himself deeper until you were seeing stars every time he hit your g-spot. Or those could have been halos from the heavens above. Anything works, the fact was he was making you his. The closeness was nice as well. Feeling his skin against yours as you burn up like a sinner. It was intimate and it was passionate.

Somehow your mind could not process the fact that you were about to cum until it was too late. One second you were giving your usual moans and pants, the next your head went back and you were clenching the sheets as the orgasm hit you. It took your breath away, causing you to only focus on how it came in waves. Your pussy was clenching around his cock while your clit grew sensitive to his other cock rubbing against it. He stopped once he realized you came.

You took a moment to catch your breath. There was a slight smile on your face from the burst of dopamine you just received. You were about to ask Syzoth if he was good until you realized he never came. You became puzzled and were about to ask him what was the matter. He pulled out and flipped you on your stomach.

Alright, now here’s the fun part.

You didn’t know what Syzoth was doing until the bed creaked as if something huge was just dropped on it. No, he can’t be.

You felt him press against your back, feeling rough scales come into contact with your skin. Large hands wrapped around your hips with claws that were slightly digging into them. He nuzzled his large head against yours to keep you calm. That wasn’t necessary because you already felt calm. You were surprised that you weren’t at all freaked out by what was about to happen. But you trusted Syzoth to not hurt you. You knew he would be gentle and make sure you had a good time.

Your hand went up to give his head a light pat. He let out a low growl that rumbled his chest. You felt a much bigger pair of cocks press against your already sensitive pussy. It gathered some of your wetness before slowly slipping in. Your hands gripped your pillows as you felt it stretch you out. What you weren’t ready for was the ridges. The base was ridged. That’s a new texture that no human man can provide you.

Your legs immediately turned to jello from the feeling it provided. Not to mention the other cock was rubbing against your clit again, this time with a more bumpy texture. Don’t worry, Syzoth has a good hold on your hips. So just relax and enjoy the ride.

Nothing in that room was quiet. The bed squeaked with every movement you two made. Syzoth was letting off low rumbles as he felt your warm pussy squeeze around him. And you? Heh, your voice is gonna be hoarse in the morning. The pillow could only do so much to silence your moans. You occasionally had to lift your head up to breathe better and that’s when your moans were heard the most. The prettiest sound Syzoth would ever hear. The sounds of birds could never compare.

You began to pull away from him to relieve yourself of being overstimulated. You could already feel your eyes watering up from the pleasure being too much for you. But Syzoth won’t let you get away. You are gonna stay there and take it all. He pulled you back roughly which made you see those bright lights again. You soon felt his sharp teeth prick the skin on your shoulder. He slowly pressed them down but not enough to break your skin. For once throughout this whole debacle you felt some fear. But that fear turned to pleasure once you realized you liked it. You liked how he was so close to fully biting you just to make you stay. It’s safer to accept what’s about to happen.

Tears began to slip down your cheeks. Drool slowly dribbled past your lips and down your chin. Your pussy was a dripping mess. You’re a dripping mess.

Wet, squishy sounds were heard every time Syzoth thrusted in. You couldn’t hear it over your own moans but you could feel how easily he was slipping in and out. One of his clawed hands reached forward to grip one of your breasts. His claws dug into the round flesh but never pierced it. He could already imagine how big they would get once they fill up with milk. He wouldn’t mind getting a taste of it for himself. He knows you’ll produce enough for the babies and him. Oh gosh, the thoughts are really getting to him.

You felt his thrusts become sluggish and his growls become deeper. You knew he would cum soon. Thank goodness, you couldn’t tell if you would last any longer.

A few more thrusts and he was soon filling your pussy with his cum. It was really filling you up. It’s a large cock what else could you expect. His other cock was shooting some cum out as well which painted your stomach and tits. It also landed on the sheets which is fine he will clean it up later.

Syzoth pulled out and watched some of his cum pour out of you. It fell onto the sheets and dripped down your thighs. You fell to your side and let out a sigh of relief. It’s over, what an experience for you.

Syzoth went behind you to cuddle you, still in his true form. His tail wrapped up and pressed against your front. It was like he was already preparing to cradle that big belly that would soon form. You found it cute and brought his tail closer to you. You begin to pass out, feeling his warm breath blow behind you.

Now, you’re not too sure if birth control will work with Zatteran cum. Guess you will find out soon.

══💤══╡°˖✧🦊✧˖°╞══💤══

AND IT DOES NOT!

That little pill was not gonna work with that large amount of cum. Which is fine, it worked out for Syzoth in the end.

He was ecstatic to become a father once more. He will make sure to protect you well and keep your baby safe. He made sure to do everything for you even though he couldn’t do the laundry, cook, go grocery shopping…okay he did the best he could. You wanted to do things yourself anyway. Pregnant women gotta stay strong and active. You appreciated his efforts though.

In the end, it was worth it. Seeing his eyes sparkle whenever he looked at your pregnant belly was something unforgettable. The love he has for you grows stronger every day. He can’t thank you enough for giving him a family.

And it could have happened quicker IF HE JUST FREAKING SAID IT.

Yap notes: So sorry I’ve been MIA. The depression hit like a bitch, the motivation was down, I got overstimulated and cried, and my body needs different things. I have excuses for days and I’m gonna go cry about tortoises. I at least fixed my raccoon tails. Adiós!

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dark-and-kawaii · 4 months ago

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‎‧₊˚✧[ Bred So Nicely ]✧˚₊‧

Summary: Giving his cock a few lazy strokes, Zevlor pressed the head back against your entrance, your pussy greedily swallowing it up. He could feel how his cock was pushing his seed he had just released inside your pussy even deeper into you... It was like he was a young hellrider again having sex for the first time!

⋆౨ৎ˚⟡ — Pairing: Zevlor x F!Tav/Reader

‎⋆౨ৎ˚⟡ — Content: ‎NSFW - Breeding - Multiple Creampies - Stuffed To The Brim With Cum - Overflowing - Stretched So Good - Cervix Pounding - Your Body Gets Bullied Beautifully - Zevlor Saves A Horse Amd Rides You - Impregnation - Touch Of Angst Towards The End - Comfort - Age Gap

‎⋆౨ৎ˚⟡ — Notes: Are you horny and need a good lewd read? Look no further ♡ ♡ ♡

His cock thrust violently into you, his hips slamming down unlike anything you had ever experienced. His hands, once so soft, were now rough and calloused, gripping your own arms with bruising strength, as though he would never let go.

His mouth was open in a wordless moan, his teeth bared and clenched together, and his fiery orange eyes were half lidded.

An unbelievable amount of sperm spilled inside your womb, filling you to the point of bursting, before gushing out of your vagina and running down his still thrusting cock… Something he had only seen in his dreams, something he thought he could never have. But by the gods, you were real. Your body was underneath him, your womb accepting his seed, his love. Your voice crying out to him. You were here.

“Mmns’Zwevlor~ Y-you’re let-ting out s’much inside me~♡”

Of course he was, he had been so pent up for so long, his mind was a mess. It felt so good, the way your gummy walls clamped down on him, sucking him in deeper, and the way your cervix fluttered as if kissing the head of his cock, asking for more. He just couldn’t stop cumming, his balls emptying out his thick white cream inside of you over and over, your belly feeling full.

“Zeeeevlor~♡ I c-can feel you in my tummy~ ♡ It feels s-so good inside~~!♡ S-so full~ ♡ Mmn-! ♡ F-fill me even more, I want it all~!”

He couldn’t believe it, how his cock was still raring to go after dumping that much inside you. How his cock was still so needy…

Zevlor pulled himself free of you, watching as your walls clung to him, desperate for him to stay inside- watching how your body shuddered, your arms above you as if he was still pinning you down, your breasts heaving as you panted.

His tail kept you spread for him, giving him a good view of his cum dribbling freely from your well fucked cunt, his eyes drawn to the way your belly bulged slightly, your womb stuffed to the brim…

Giving his cock a few lazy strokes, Zevlor pressed the head back against your entrance, your pussy greedily swallowing it up. He could feel how his cock was pushing his seed he had just released inside your pussy even deeper into you... It was like he was a young hellrider again having sex for the first time!

He leaned over you, his hands gripping yours tightly as he buried his face into your shoulder, breathing heavily as his hips snapped forward, his balls slapping against your ass.

“P-please~ don’t n’ stop ~! Y-your cock!~ I-it makes my head spin~ ♡ Zevlor!”

You couldn't tell where your legs and arms were, nor could you see anything besides the man on top of you. It felt like the world was spinning and you were lost in the haze of pleasure this old man was giving you. The only feeling you could register was the cock inside you~

There was a voice- his voice yelling at him in the back of his head, about how he was a middle aged man in his fifties making a baby with a young thing like you. One he had just met days ago.

Hearing your cute cries, his erection wouldn’t let him stop. Not when you were moaning his name so sweetly, not when your arms were wrapping around his neck, holding him close, not when your legs were wrapping around his hips… The man Astarion had teased you about- the old wet rag of a hellrider, continued to pour his seed inside of you countless times.

And each time he could feel his cum slosh around inside you- his veiny ridged cock pushing his seed deeper and deeper into your fertile womb, doing that obsessively over and over again until he was sure one of his little swimmers found their mark.

He wanted to impregnate you, to become a father and leave behind descendants. Your young, far less aged body ripe and ready for conception… And your body seemed eager enough, hungry to swallow up his seed.

“Nghn~ Th-thrusting sh’ow deeeep~ ♡” your tongue lolled out as you felt him squish your legs against your chest, his cock threatening to push past the entrance to your womb- his whole body weight pressed to you.

His hand reached up, grabbing your jaw with a gentle touch, his eyes locked on yours. You couldn't look away, those orange orbs staring at you as if trying to devour you whole, “Ha’ah’ ha- Tell me, please- hha“ Zevlor panted, his hot breath seen due to the coolair within the groves cave, “before my courage ups and flees, tell me that you’re min-“

“I’m n’ mn’yours~♡!! Zev~ Zevlor~!!! I belong s’to yo-u~ ♡♡!!! ♡♡♡!!♡!!~!! I-ah~I'm c-cumming-!!! ♡ I-I'm cummmmmmmiiiing~!!!!!!!!!~ ♡♡ ♡♡ ♡♡ ♡ ♡ ♡ ♡ ♡♡ ♡♡ ♡♡ Ahhhh~~~ ♡♡ ♡♡♡ ♡♡♡!!! I’m going t-to hav-e a hell-sp-awns baby~♡Nnn’!!!”

You screamed as your mind blanked out, a violent orgasm ripping through your body, your toes curling, your eyes rolling to the back of your head.

Zevlor could feel your walls spasm and tighten, milking him dry as he filled your womb with another load. He bit into the crook of your neck as he came, a deep, primal growl vibrating through his body, his hand digging into your thigh as his other grabbed the back of your head and kept him pinned to you- emptying his balls deep inside your belly.

He could feel how his balls pulsed as he sent shot after shot of his hellish seed into you one final time… He watched as you gasped- as if you could clearly feel each hot gush of his seed entering your womb.

Zevlor was sure that was the last of it… His cock had already begun to soften, but his mind was still lost in a fog of lust.

Neither of you attempted to move, instead you both just stayed in the position, panting, covered in sweat and each others fluids. His hand stroked your head as your own hand rubbed the base of his horns- both of you exhausted and in bliss.

Your body was still a trembling mess, the aftershocks of pleasure making you see stars, unable to form a coherent thought. You couldn't see a thing, the world nothing but a blur as you gasped for air- the feel of his body the only thing that kept you grounded.

He was heavy and warm, enveloping you in a comforting warmth that made your body feel relaxed. And with his weight resting against you, you felt so safe and cozy. It was a wonderful feeling, but gradually his warmth began to fade, as he began to shift away from you.

Instinctively, you pulled him close, a needy whine coming from you as you wrapped your arms around him tighter, refusing to let him go… Your body holding onto him desperately. You didn’t want him to leave, didn’t want to go your separate ways come morning…

And neither did he.

You could feel how tears formed at the corners of your eyes, a sense of panic gripping you, “I- I don’t want to leaveyou…” you sobbed, burying your face into his chest, the salty liquid staining his skin, the words he was about to say stuck in his throat.

Afraid that any movement would only upset you more, he stayed where he was, his hands stroking the sides of your head. His soft cock still inside of you- and with each sob you took, you could feel his cum squelch around inside you…

Zevlor could smell his own scent clinging to you, a pleasant warmth filling his chest… He wanted to stay with you, wanted to settle down with a family, to be with you forever. And judging from the way you were clinging onto him, you wanted him just as badly…

He couldn’t tell you how his heart had almost broken when you sobbed out those words… How he wished he could join you in your travels, but he had his people to worry about… He needed to get them to Baldurs Gate… “My dear,-”

A sharp gasp left your lips as his soft cock slid out of you, a rush of cum spilling from your sore cunt, a deep blush staining your cheeks as you realized he could see-

Zevlor watched as his cum dripped out of you, his mouth open as he breathed heavily- a strange mixture of emotions running through him, “I will meet you in Baldurs Gate.” His fiery orbs met with your glossed ones, his hands wiping the tears away as he brought his face close to yours, his lips hovering over yours, the tips of his fangs brushing against the softness of your lips, “I’ll wait for you there- that’s if you’ll still have this old soul as yours when we meet again?” His tail was coiled around your leg, “But I need to see my people there safely. Please, don't cry, I can't bear seeing such a sad expression on you. Not after what we've done.”

The promise to be with him again was enough to quell the fear that had been building up in you, And you nodded, a shy smile on your lips, “Zevlor…”

The way you said his name, the way you were looking up at him- he couldn't help but think you looked beautiful. Your eyes, bright and hopeful, staring back at him.

With the promise that the two of you would meet again, his lips met yours, the kiss gentle and chaste, the tip of his tongue licking at the seam of your lips, silently asking permission, and which was granted- your lips parting, allowing him access.

You two had only just met days ago, but the feelings were there- strong and deep…

He was no longer an old, tired Hellrider, he was no longer some washed up man… Here in your embrace he felt young, like he had a second chance at love- a chance he thought he would never have.

#bg3 #baldurs gate 3 #baldur’s gate 3 #baldurs gate #zevlor #zevlor bg3 #bg3 zevlor #tav #x reader #bg3 smut #monster smut #monster fucker #monster fucking

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satzumosupremacy · 1 year ago

Text

Elite Bodyguard Series: Pt.9

Embrace

Male reader x Jihyo

Tags: Sprinkle of fluff, Smut, Impregnation kink, Drunk sex, Quickie 6.8K Words

As you were required for an award show, the thought of Jihyo attending never crossed your mind, and you were unaware of her presence. Even though you were aware of her being there, you maintained professionalism by staying in the background and behind the cameras while the award ceremony unfolded.

As a bodyguard, you typically stand alert with earpieces, awaiting radio communication regarding potential threats. In contrast, many other security guards either monitor numerous cameras on large screens within designated rooms or actively patrol the hallways.

You find yourself observing Jihyo as she sits, fully immersed in the ceremony, seemingly unaware of your presence. However, as you sneak glances at her, a subtle discrepancy catches your attention, causing a growing sense of annoyance. Her smiles, perfectly timed for the cameras, contrast with a nonchalant, annoyed expression when the attention is not on her. It isn't until hours later that she finally rises and makes her way towards you near the door.

“Come out. We should talk, Oppa.”

“Let’s go to the hallway near the bathroom. There’s no cameras.”

“No wonder you get paid so much. Just scanning everything like a muscle memory,” she said, chuckling on the way to the bathroom. “Sometimes, I feel like you’re not human.”

“That really hurt, Jihyo,” you said playfully, “I didn’t know you would show up here. I saw your schedule, but coming here? That’s surprising.”

“Just curious to see. Since we both are here, maybe I’ll come over tonight instead.”

“Are you really curious, or was this an idea that you want to fall through and sleep on my bed?” You said, teasing Jihyo and staring at her gorgeous back.

“Who knows. How do I look?” Jihyo turns around for you and poses.

"You look beautiful in that black dress," you complimented with a warm smile, appreciating the way the dress accentuated her grace and style. Her face lit up with a grateful blush, and the simple yet heartfelt compliment added a touch of warmth to the night. But the way you knew how she looked under that dress turned you on more.

“My eyes are up here, Oppa.” She said, laughing softly, catching you staring at her gorgeous body, and cover her mouth with her hands. “I plan to leave, how about you?”

“I have to stay til the end.”

She sighs, “I’ll wait for you at your house.”

“Ask your manager to stay to keep you company. I don’t want you feeling alone in a big house," you said out of worry.

“We both live alone. It’s only right that both of us know how it feels. I’ll be fine, Oppa.”

You didn’t budge but ask her again, “stay with your manager until I’m home.”

"No," Jihyo playfully responded with a confident smile. It was impossible to disagree with her again after such assurance.

“Okay fine. But we should get going. I hear footsteps. Might be a security guard making his way around.” You never fail to surprise her with the smallest things, like hearing footsteps or blind spots that cameras won’t be able to see.

She could only sigh, yet witnessing this more masculine aspect of you was truly one of her favorites. "Alright, I'll catch up with you later."

You nod and follow her back from a distance. The little dirty thoughts of knowing what she looks like under that dress turned you on even more. As time passes, your only option is to remain standing, communicating with the security room, while you observe the ending of the show hours later.

——

As you enter the garage and step out of the car, she hears you and promptly opens the door to welcome you. However, Jihyo doesn't utter a word; instead, she walks directly towards you and gently pins you to the wall after closing the door for you. In an instant, her lips meet yours, and she kisses you as if she has been longing for the passion you both shared the last time.

No greetings. Just getting straight to the point.

Despite both of your schedules today, the two of you wanted some relief, or better, the whole night that you both deserve after a long day. Her hands hang on your shoulders. As it continued from a genuine kiss to a more passionate one, your hands slowly trace her figure down to her hips, squeezing Jihyo’s ass.

“So damn aggressive, Oppa,” Jihyo said, smiling at you once the two of you made eye contact. "You're very, very handsome tonight."

“Fuck, you know how hot you look in that black dress?” You said, mouth inches apart, and shares of each other's warm breath.

“It’s hotter seeing you in all black, Oppa.”

“Sorry it took so long, Jihyo.” She didn’t respond and continued to kiss all over you lips down to your neck while you traced her curves, grabbing her ass for a tight squeeze again. “All mine for the night?”

“Oppa,” she said, gasping quietly, “remember…what I said to you at the start of all this?”

“What is it?” You said and turned around to pin her to the wall. Your hands never let go of her body and kept touching her with lust. She stares right at you, locking each other's eyes silently for a split second.

“Eat me. I never gave you a chance at the start. I know you’re tired of having the same thing each week.”

“Sana?”

“I never said no names.” She laughs, catching you off guard to start name calling. “Have me. Me for tonight. Eat me and hold me tight. I’ll please you too.”

“You know I won’t disappoint you, Jihyo.” And within an instant, you lift up her dress slightly to see that Jihyo didn’t have any panties on. She got you flustered, and you can only question her, “what’s going on? Don’t act like Sana. This is so not you at all.”

“Got too impatient waiting for you. Couldn’t help but play with myself for a while.”

“I kept you waiting, didn't I?" You then nod side to side with a gentle smile, "you don't have to anymore.” And you slowly trace between her crotch right onto her clit to feel how wet she has gotten. Curiously, you tap her pussy gently, just feeling a string of her juice stretch onto your fingers. “It’s very wet. Tell me what you were thinking while I was gone, Jihyo. Tell me everything. Tell me what we should do on this lovely tonight.”

She remains locked to your eyes, moaning ever so quietly as you rub her clit slowly. “I just,” she whimpers quietly, “want to be held in your arms and feel like I’m the only woman in the world.”

Unexpectedly, you felt some pity, some gratitude at the same time when she wants you, and only you to make her feel this way. Ever since the first time you fucked her, you never got a taste of her at all, but only get to feel how tight she really was, and with a smirk, you lick your fingers immediately once you pulled out to get a taste of Jihyo as she quietly looks at you for a compliment.

“May you cum on my face later?” You said, licking your lips and finger her again while Jihyo could only pant quietly.

You gaze at her, right in her eyes, and hear her beautiful voice, continuously fingering her even faster, deeper with another finger inside. “Oppa,” she moans and squeezes your shoulders, “I just want you.”

The difference between Jihyo at the award show and right in your house was vastly different. In the public eye, she shows confidence, smiling for cameras. Yet, in the private moments away from the spotlight, she seeks comfort, desiring to be held in your arms without the presence of cameras. Slowly tracing her body, you quickly lift her up and carry her to the couch with your hands on her ass.

“After a long day, we both deserve this time. Am I right, Jihyo?” You toss her on the couch and took the advantage of being on top to kiss her neck. She tilts her head in the opposite direction from your kisses to give you every space possible.

“Want to stay up for the night?” She quietly moans more from the feeling of your lips all over her neck.

“It’s been a long day, but if you want, we can. Staying up is simple.”

“Busy tomorrow? I don’t recall you being busy.”

“So many questions.” You said with a chuckle and pin her down harder, silently staring right into her eyes. Even avoiding Jihyo’s question, you are busy in the afternoon later, but rather not disappoint her.

“Eyes so seductive,” she complimented.

“Because I’m the one that you’ll have tonight.”

“Let’s go to the bedroom. Eat me, Oppa. Give me what I was missing out on.”

Before you even walk to the bedroom, you see a smile from her, brighter than you can clearly remember from today. Even though she brought a suitcase and seemed to be packing for a vacation, you willingly offered to carry her luggage. Regardless, you didn't pay any mind whether she intended to stay for just a night or several days.

“Oppa, why aren’t you asking about my luggage that I brought over?” Jihyo questioned while taking off her dress.

“I’m fine if you stay over. Let my house be your sanctuary and escape from reality. Whatever’s bothering you, just know I’m here.” You said, concerned nonchalantly, and subtly expressing empathy. Considering Twice's hectic schedules, including yours, it's evident that the members are likely burnt out.

In fact, you could sense something was on her mind at the start of the event when the cameras weren’t focused on her. But when she’s in the spotlight, it was all smiles—fake enough to make you notice the small differences from Jihyo. From just being an observant person, it made you worry for her.

“Oppa,” she said as you stare at her naked body, “thanks,” Jihyo said and you can see her smile fade away. You rather try to make her feel happy instead of knowing what’s on her mind, simply because you couldn’t relate to being an idol after all. But even if she hesitated to say what was on her mind, you wanted her to tell you regardless.

“Jihyo, the door is closed, and it’s only us two together.” You said, sugarcoating and encouraging her to open up comfortably. Despite the close bond within Twice, it's understandable that her leadership role comes with a sense of pride. You're aware that she might feel uneasy about sharing her thoughts with the other members.

“Oppa,” she said, hands out, inviting for a hug in front of you and you wrap your arm around her without a word, “I like the hospitality you give me."

"Feel free to express yourself. When we hug, I can't see your face, so just share what's on your mind, Jihyo." You gently pat her back, with her tits pressed against your chest. If Jihyo needed a shoulder to cry on, you would bring her in your arms without wanting her embarrassed.

“Our schedule was tough, wasn’t it, Oppa?”

“It was…kinda, Jihyo. It was.”

"Are we being too much for you? In a personal way?"

"No, not at all," you said simply.

“I’m just tired. I’m just exhausted. It’s just been rough for all of us including you, Oppa. I’m sorry.”

You couldn’t tell if she was crying or not, either way, you held her in tightly and warmly, her chin on your shoulders as if she was crying behind your back. “Did anyone tell you that you’re doing good? I’m very proud of you, Jihyo. Very.”

Your words had the power to bring tears to her eyes, whether from the struggles or from the sheer motivation it provided. Jihyo's joy was evident in the warmth of her cheeks against yours. However, you didn't realize that these were tears of happiness, or even seeing Jihyo shed a tear. As she held you even tighter, standing still, she embraced the heartfelt words you had given her.

“Want to drink? Celebrate after our busy schedules, Oppa? Just us two. We get along so well together.” Jihyo said out of the blue, smiling and wiping her tears secretly and gets down on her knees to kiss your body and pull your pants down with a mischievous smile.

“Jihyo,” you caressed her cheek and she sucks on your thumb for a tease. “Anyone told you that you look so beautiful today?”

“No..well, apart from my stylist and managers. Thanks.” Jihyo then kisses your tip, licking the bottom side to make your cock twitch on her tongue. "You deserve something, Oppa. And it's me."

“Not even a tease. Just getting straight into it, Jihyo.” It’s not like she can say anything back when you held her nape and pushing her gently down to deepthroat your cock slowly, which you groaned, “Jihyo.”

You fall back onto the bed. Jihyo’s little hum, moan, and her eyes that stared up to you, eased the tough day both of you had. You push her down even more to make Jihyo gag louder. The wet slurps her mouth made echoed in the bedroom, it was pure music to your ears while you closed your eyes. She smiled from the corner of her mouth all because of how pleasured you were. Even Jihyo missed the way your cock tasted and swallowed all the pre-cum that leaked out. You gently let go of her nape to give Jihyo some rest as she pulls off to take a deep breath.

“Think I’m finally realizing why Sana is so obsessed. Fuck,” Jihyo laughs, wiping the small mess on her lips. You decide to seduce her by pressing your thumb against her lips and make her suck on your thumb again.

You brush her hair by the ear just to see her face even clearer, “I love how dirty you can get when the time is right. Can you take it deeper?”

She smirks, “you think I can’t?”

“You’re a singer after all. I’m worried.”

“Studio session isn’t in a couple days. Plus, it’s not like this is our first time together.”

She continues to suck you off, from the tip, you can feel her tongue rubbing against it. You moan, grunting quietly while holding her nape and grip onto her hair, “Jihyo,” you couldn’t help but groan her name. “Fuck, just like that.”

Your breath becomes even heavier, deeper once she started to deepthroat you without any guidance. You feel some saliva drip down to your balls, to which she quickly licks your balls with a light chuckle, and the breath you felt. “Just cum if you can’t handle it. We have the whole night. Don’t be embarrassed, Oppa.”

She squeezes your cock, thumb teasing your tip in circular motion to make it twitch. And again, she doesn’t hesitate to suck you off when your cock is all hers tonight. “Jihyo,” you grunted, “slow down.”

And like she even listened, Jihyo pushes herself down even farther to take every inch when you felt her throat contract and chokes—hard, and pulls out to jerk you off. “Were you worried?”

“No shit.”

“How considerate,” she smirks and admires your cock. “May I get an appetizer? Then all of it inside somewhere else later?”

“If you really can’t wait to get eaten out.” Without hesitation, she sucks only your tip, swirling her tongue around it and under to make you gasp. The whole time, Jihyo sucks and teases your tip for your load of cum. You lean your head into the bedsheet even harder the more she focuses on your tip, and it is only the tip. Her head bobs quickly all in one area that got you tensed up, even making you grunt. “Jihyo. Jihyo.”

Your cock pulsates every bob she does, and it was too much for you to handle when all the focus is the tip of your cock. You would confidently say to yourself that her blowjobs were different than any women. Her soft, warm hands were on your lap, slowly and teasingly caressing your thighs.

“Fuck, Ji-” you said, grunting, cumming right in her mouth as she slows down to feel your cock pulsating. Jihyo didn’t expect how much she got you to cum and your cock didn’t stop pulsating to fill her mouth. Jihyo stopped bobbing for your own sanity. Seconds after, you rub your forehead with the palm of your hands just to come back to reality by what this woman just did—an overwhelming quickie that made her cheeks bloat with cum.

Jihyo awaits for you to look at her, soon as you did, she swallows your cum with your cock still in her mouth and pulls out. “This is just a thank you, Oppa,” she said, wiping her lips, licking her fingers, and brushing her hair to the side femininely.

And you couldn’t snap back into reality at all when it was just an overwhelming quickie.

“You’re so lucky that I rather savor the taste of you tonight. Otherwise, I might make you yell at the top of your lungs tonight.”

“Hey, maybe it’s good vocal practice for me.”

“Shut it.”

“Not if I can shut you up first by sitting on your face, Oppa.”

“Enough talking,” you chuckled and she quickly got up to take the chance to shut you up by sitting on your face while you’re laid down already. "Seems like the tables always turn when you're the one seducing me, Jihyo."

“Enjoy as long as you want.” Jihyo smiled, which you couldn’t see when her tits were in your view. You wrap your arms around her thighs, to where she can feel your biceps locking her in. “Maybe this wasn’t a good idea after all to be on top."

You had enough talking when her pussy was right in your face and started with a simple tease to her inner thighs, closer, and closer to kiss her pussy and lick how wet she was already. You can barely hear her moan with her thighs covering your ears, but it is enough to make her squeal and jerk around while you finally get a taste of Jihyo. She digs into your scalp, unintentionally getting a pinch-like feeling out of it with her nails.

“Oppa,” she moaned with her irregular breathing and the small squirms you felt. “Fuck!”

With a grin on your face, you wanted her to regret what she didn’t let you do—eat her at the start of all of this. As you kept eating her out, you didn’t let Jihyo catch her breath but kept going like you wanted her to moan even louder.

And she did start realizing and regret what she didn’t let you do.

Her pussy becomes even more wet with your saliva, also your mouth being a mess. Even if she squirms, your tongue stayed glued and gave her a bundle of sensations. You got her feelings on a rollercoaster with your arms around as her only seatbelt.

Jihyo’s body tenses, arching back and face up to the ceiling, then a erotic moan from her within the breaths she takes every second. She was at her limit, legs twitching and jerking, squirming everywhere like her body wanted to be free from your arms. You suddenly pause from eating her, “You’re not cumming anytime soon.”

She quickly catches her breath. “Oppa,” she said, panting and trying to control her breathing, “you have to let me lay down. I can’t handle this.”

“Free yourself.” Even if you knew thigh muscles were more powerful than arms, you cheated your way through by licking her pussy just so she couldn’t escape as she tried to, which she surrendered herself as you slowly savor Jihyo’s pussy.

She can only admire the view down below where your face was no where to seen but only your hair. “You eat me so fucking good.”

“You taste good, Jihyo.” And you press your tongue against her pussy, slowly up and down to devour her. You did free her however, only to grab onto her tits and gently squeeze them. Her toes curl up, every part of her legs tenses, and Jihyo couldn’t take it anymore by the way you’re eating her in all the right spots.

“Oppa, you’re gonna-” Your tongue circles around her pussy; from the clit, slowly down near her ass, you savor every part of what you’re getting tonight and for the next few days. Jihyo’s moans get louder, screaming and covering her mouth like she’s going to cum if you keep swirling your tongue around. “Oppa,” she groaned erotically and an accidental quick scream.

“Let me enjoy you for a bit longer, Jihyo,” you smiled and slowed down from eating her out. From her thighs, you kiss them passionately and made Jihyo chuckle. “I love your body, Jihyo. I really do.”

“My body goes well with yours, Oppa. You’re muscular, while I have everything you need from a woman’s body.”

“I wouldn’t deny it either. Want to change positions?” Jihyo didn’t answer as you released her from your arms. Once she lay down, you got on top of her and kissed her tits, then traced down her body to her stomach, and lastly, again to her wet pussy that you made a mess of. Jihyo’s legs leaned against your shoulders as you slowly licked her pussy. “How much longer can you take it, Jihyo?”

“Fuck, it’s so sensitive right now. Stop torturing me so much, Oppa,” she laughs, and then moans with her back arching once she felt your tongue digging into her pussy. Jihyo squeezes her tits, moaning even deeper and breaths break into a stream of long pants.

Without a doubt, you wanted Jihyo to cum, not in the hardest way, but calm enough to make Jihyo feel all the sensations. “Cum for me, Jihyo,” you murmured without letting your mouth off of her pussy.

“Fuck!” She moaned loudly, legs jerking, body tensing as you only slowed down to hear her beautiful voice as Jihyo starts to cum. Her legs also pushed you back as you didn't budge but it wasn't enough for your tongue to let go of her clit. As she has her moment, you stare right at her, see Jihyo squeezing her tits when her head was buried deep into the pillow. “Ah!” She clenches her teeth quickly to be quiet at two in the morning and nods side to side once you sucked on her clit, then giving it a kiss as the cherry on top.

“Rest for a bit, then we can go back out.”

“Oppa,” Jihyo said, gasping for air while you waited for her to finish what she wanted to say. “Never mind.” Again, laughing in the most unexpected moments. What Jihyo wanted to say was that she loved how you eat her, but didn’t want to sound like an easy person to please.

You didn’t bother asking and laughed along with Jihyo. “Should we put on some clothes and go to the living room?”

“Mhmm,” she said, smiling with her eyes closed after getting eaten out. You take Jihyo’s hand and made her get up from the bed to dress comfortably. She puts on a shirt—without her bra, panties, and sweatpants that she got out her luggage.

You both leave the bedroom and head to the kitchen. You decide to cut some fruits to arrange on the table. Jihyo, being familiar with the layout of your house, goes to fetch a wine bottle, a couple of beers, and a half bottle of whiskey. As you're busy cutting strawberries and mangoes, you notice her walking back and forth with drinks. Feeling a bit puzzled by the amount she's taking, you chuckle and only look at her. "Jihyo, I don't want you to get too drunk."

“Don’t worry, these are just extras that we might take some sips with.”

You chuckle in a surprised tone, “Sips? I know how you are, Jihyo. Remember when you threw up on my bathroom floor and Nayeon had to clean it?”

“Oppa, stop overreacting. This is a small party for the two of us.”

“Fine. I’ll take care of you if you get drunk tonight then.”

“I won’t get drunk.” She said coming out of the small room that you store all the alcoholic drinks in. You watched as she came out with the final bottle—the whiskey. Jihyo lifted the bottle triumphantly, a smile that she couldn't hide but got to drink with you. "Oppa, this was the bottle that Tzuyu was so adorable after taking a few shots."

“I remembered.” You said, continuing to cut the fruits as Jihyo leans over the counter to patiently look at you cut the fruits. “Mind handing me a plate, Jihyo?”

She hands you a plate and rest her elbow on the counter to look at you. “You look so hot using a kitchen knife.”

You pause, setting aside the task of cutting the last pieces of strawberries, and glance at her. "Are you already drunk?"

“No,” she laughs, “fine, don’t take the compliment then.”

“Fine, don’t take the compliment then,” you playfully mocked her. “Go have a seat, Jihyo. I’ll be there in a few seconds.”

“Need some help? I’ll carry the other plate.” You decide to give her the plate of mangoes and walk behind her to the living room. As soon as she sits, you turn on the lamp and open the blinds slightly to set a calm mood with the night sky in the view.

“Jihyo, I’ll be busy in the afternoon. Hope that’s okay with you.”

“It’s fine. Do what you have to do.”

“Call Jeongyeon or anyone to come over and have some fun while I’m away.”

“It’s alright. I’ll most likely sleep until you come home.” She said, picking up the fork and eating a slice of mango while she contemplates to choose which bottle of alcohol to open.

You glance at the clock on top of the tv—three-thirty in the morning, and look back at Jihyo munching on a strawberry as she makes eye contact with you. “Open the whiskey and let’s have a drink, Jihyo.”

She gladly grabs the whiskey and places it on her chest, tits mashing onto it to give her some leverage. “Oppa,” she said, struggling, “it’s too tight. Can you open it?”

“Gimmie,” you said and twisted the cap easily to pour it into the shot glass. "I might have closed it too tight," you laughed.

“Cheers!” Jihyo said, clinging to each other’s glass and smiling at you before taking the shot. After taking the shot, she sits closer, enough for your thigh to touch hers. You didn’t mind at all. Besides, she feels safer with you than being alone in her apartment. You could clearly tell by her actions.

“Oppa, is Sana getting in the way of you and Tzu?”

“No. Not at all. Why?”

“Sana keeps talking about you in the group chat.”

“Sexually?”

“You know, the way you fuck her. She loves it to the point of sharing with everyone in the chat. Did you know that?”

“Tzu told me a little. But I can’t do anything about it.”

“But how did all of this start? The weekly thing with Sana.” Majority of the members knew that Sana was over every week, but they didn’t know it all started as Jihyo wondered. Which, you couldn’t really come up with an exact answer to.

“It just happened that way. It’s Sana, Jihyo.”

“She's hot, isn't she? I would understand if I were you. Another shot?” She said excitedly. “C’mon, we have all night to ourselves.”

“You’re such a bad influence. Did you forget I’m busy in the afternoon?”

“Wait..then..shouldn’t you sleep? Fuck, we don’t have to this. Maybe next time? Tomorrow night? Or the next?”

“Did you forget? I’m not a human like you said.”

“I didn’t mean it, Oppa. But I think you should sleep instead of staying up with me.” She said with her hands on her chest to show her sincerity.

"It's okay," you say as you take a bite of mango from your fork.

“No, seriously. I think we should just go to sleep. I'll give you something special once we wake up."

“You wanted to stay up. It’s too late to turn back, Jihyo. Let’s just continue."

——

One shot after another, laughter and the clinking of glasses echoed in the air. After an hour, Jihyo's face had turned red. The effects of alcohol were beginning to take her, not just on her, but on you as well. The half-empty bottle of whiskey was completely drained, and she had switched to beer and wine. You couldn't help but anticipate the potential things alcohol would do to her.

“You ever thought of putting a baby in me?” Jihyo said unexpectedly and picked up her cup of beer to take a big gulp.

Even after she spoke, you found yourself at a loss for words. Your mind scrambled to form a response, “I think you’re drunk, Jihyo,” you said, avoiding her question.

“I’m not.” And she gets on top of you, staring right into your eyes, “you never avoid my questions, but is it because it’s too early to talk about this?" Then she tilts her head to the right, "wouldn't you like to see what we created after nine months if we get a chance?"

You discreetly checked her wrist for a pulse, which was beating irregularly due to the alcohol she had consumed. As the room fell silent, you found yourself unable to answer but have to be direct.

“We aren’t in love, Jihyo.” You said, forcing yourself to draw a line between both of you in the most gentle way possible.

“I know we aren't, but it doesn’t change the fact that you would have gotten me pregnant at the start if I wasn’t on a pill.”

“Jihyo,” you chuckled and all flustered, “I mean, I probably would have gotten you pregnant when we first fucked, wouldn’t I?”

"Hey, let's work something out." And she gets closer to your ear, "promise me something. If the stars align, or once everything settles down, I don't want us two to just be all business.”

As confused as you are about what she said, you think she’s clearly drunk saying nonsense things, and at the same time, you were getting buzzed. Perhaps it's because Jihyo is sitting right on top of you, looking hotter than she looked in the dress you saw tonight.

Jihyo is consistently the one who takes the lead in seducing you. She's the woman who effortlessly maintains the conversation, even as you sneak a glance at the clock—five-fifteen in the morning. "J-Jihyo…"

She puts her finger on your lips to shut you up. “I might be drunk, but what I’m saying is what I think of you other than our bodyguard. I may regret what I say once the sun is already up.” And her finger never left your lips. “Shhh. I can’t stand you looking at me so hot.” You stare at her silently, and she rolls up her shirt to only cover you in it with her tits right in your face. The feeling of her tits was warm; they were soft like a pillow. Only you would be able to kiss and suck on them as she held you in without much force but a smile, seeing you under her shirt. You felt her pulse as you explored each side of her tits with your mouth.

As you sucked on her nipple, you could only think of what she was saying while you were also slowly getting buzzed by how fast your heart was beating. It’s all confusing—the atmosphere, the way Jihyo was pleading you for something in return, and even her grinding on your cock got you to endlessly think of an answer.

"Let’s take things slowly," she moaned. “Forget the bed. Let’s do it here first. I can’t stand it anymore,” she whispered with a heavy breath. “I love it when you give my tits attention. I love it so fucking much. I love the way you touch and kiss them.”

You didn’t answer at all when all the attention she gave you was her tits. Seconds later, Jihyo decides to take off her shirt and mash both sides of her tits hard on your face. With a chuckle being heard from Jihyo, she found it cute, so much so to get her even wet and make her panties damp from how turned on she was.

“Oppa,” she moaned from feeling you flicking your tongue on her nipple, and lift you from her tits. You stare right in her eyes, silently seeing how turned on she was. “Let me do you a favor and take off your clothes. May I?”

“I’m not stopping you, Jihyo.”

“You’re really killing me. So damn good.”

“Enough talking. More fucking.”

What you didn’t expect was when she turns off the lamp right beside the couch. Only the moonlight lit the house from the big glass windows and the small faint light from the kitchen. You were enchanted in her spell, seduced and doing it on purpose was one thing—only to see how far Jihyo can seduce you. She slowly takes off your clothes and plant kisses to your neck. “I know you’re loving this, Oppa.”

“I am.”

“Your lips look bored,” Jihyo said. At this point, there was no going back when she’s so drunk right on top of you. Her tone’s different and seductive. You didn’t even bother asking why Jihyo started whispering with no one else in the room except for you. The smell of beer and whiskey lingered from each other’s breath.

Then that would be the last conversation between you two once she quickly takes off her pants and slides her panties to the side. Jihyo puts your cock inside her. Both of you moan quietly when Jihyo sits down and your cock disappears deep inside her pussy. You never forgot how tight and wet Jihyo can get. She never forgot the way your cock stretched her walls, and the way your cock throbs and pulsates is a compliment to Jihyo. She puts her arm on your shoulders, leaning closer to kiss you as she grinds slowly, gradually quickening the pace every second to find a good rhythm.

Your breath gets heavier, breathing right into each other’s mouth and fighting to be the dominant kisser, to the point where you would be the one. All the problems she told you about disappeared because she got what she had been desperate for. After a long day, Jihyo wanted the night to be long until the morning, and you did the right thing to grant her wish—fucking each other until sunrise.

And she found the perfect rhythm to ride you. You grabbed her ass, groping it while you wanted to help her ride you without Jihyo being the one putting in the work. She couldn’t be happier than tonight. Because of you, Jihyo smiled, cried happily, and even gotten to talk to you in the most genuine way before sex.

She felt like the only woman in the world.

The atmosphere turned hotter when Jihyo moaned right in your ear to turn you on even more. You gave her ass a couple gentle slaps, firmly grabbing them every second you could. She decides to free you from her hug and grabs onto the side of your face to look at each other. The deadly and lustful stares she gave you made your heart race even faster.

“Jihyo,” you groaned. Your breathing becomes the heaviest whenever she takes your cock deeper. “Fuck, Jihyo,” and you get a whiff of her neck, kissing and biting it softly to make her moan more seductively.

“Oppa,” she moaned. “Ugh…mhmm, I can feel it throbbing inside.” Jihyo hugs you in right between her tits again. You knew what to do and sucked on her nipple, making her groan seductively in the dark living room. “Let’s go to the room. Fuck me and cum deep inside me. Imagine what we’ll be doing in a couple years, right in the same bed.”

“Such dirty thoughts, Jihyo.” You carry her into the bedroom with your cock still inside. Gently, you fall right onto the bed and penetrate her deeper, pushing onto her thighs the hardest like she wanted. You put her legs together, and she held onto them, assuming that’s what you wanted. With a grin, you penetrated her pussy with each thrust. Your cock in and out of her pussy just to pump and dump the load she will get. Her moans got more erotic, screaming with a visible smile from the corner of her mouth.

“You’re so fucking deep in me,” she murmured and gasped. Also, Jihyo couldn’t hold her legs any longer because of how deeply you were penetrating her tight walls. Jihyo’s leg became weak as if her body had surrendered to you for the better. “Oppa,” she moaned, bursting into a sudden scream, and starts to cum with her legs tensely shaking as she grabs onto your arm to hold.

You didn’t stop at all but thrust harder and faster, as deep as you could get inside Jihyo, and she screamed at the top of her lungs. You lean closer and push her abdomen down with your hands just to make her scream louder, all while making her feel like your cock reached to her stomach. Jihyo covers her mouth with two of her hands, leaning back into the pillow to feel the sensation of you deep inside her. But when sex became this passionate and words were barely spoken, you couldn’t hold out any longer when Jihyo begged to have it all. She deserved it.

You grunt, taking a deep breath, knowing that you’re going to cum. And you do so without telling her at all. She already knew. Jihyo got what she wanted tonight. You grab onto her tits and squeezing them to your desires as you dump every drop of cum deep into her with her thighs being pressed onto yours.

Both of you catch a breath quietly, she holds onto your hand that’s squeezing her tits, and caresses you slowly. “Oppa,” she said, totally exhausted, unable to finish her words.

“Fuck, what time is it?” You wondered, glancing out the window as Jihyo locks you in with her leg around your hip. The sky was no longer as dark, signaling the early stages of dawn. It felt like time had skipped, and you realized you had completely misjudged the hours.

As time distracted you, Jihyo turns you back to her with her hands on your cheek, “how did this turn out so damn passionate?” She laughs cutely and softly with a smile that you can see more clearly. “Oppa,” and she hugs you tightly, squeezing you in, chest against chest. Without completing her intended words, all she can express is gratitude through this heartfelt hug.

Without a doubt, you both were tired from the alcohol and fucking. Jihyo decided to pepper you with kisses, and you thought it was excessive of her. “Your bed is so comfortable, Oppa.”

“And it’s also where you’re going to sleep for the next few days too. Better not go to sleep. Don’t you want to see the sunrise?”

“Mhmm.”

You get off of her to lay beside her, together facing at the window naked, and slowly see the sunrise in the distance. “Jihyo,” you said silently.

“Yes, Oppa?”

“Sober now?”

“Did I mistakenly say something? Fuck..”

From her response, it became evident that she harbored some kind of feeling that you don’t know. The words that she said when drunk was for sure something she has been thinking about you. It’s always alcohol getting the best out of Jihyo. “You didn’t say anything wrong,” you said, assuring and hiding the words that she may be embarrassed of.

What you were unaware of is that she never saw you merely as Twice's bodyguard; rather, she can envision a future with you. It was only her pride that held her back. The only method she could think of to bring herself closer to you was through her discreet approach of spending several days with you, hoping to witness a different side of you. As the sun continued to rise, she closed her eyes with a pleasant smile.

"Jihyo," you softly whisper, "Jihyo?" And you gently lean in to catch a glimpse of her. She's fast asleep, peacefully resting with your arm wrapped around her, providing a comforting embrace.

Despite you assuming that she was sleeping, she pretended to sleep. Jihyo knew you were busy later and wanted to ensure you had some time to rest. You fell quickly asleep, wrapping your arms around her, and she couldn't help but blush at the warmth of your body gave off after fucking.

After several minutes of you completely knocking out, Jihyo slowly removes your arm off of her and quietly leaves the bedroom all naked to clean up the small mess you both left in the living room. She returns the beer and wine to their original places, disposing of the empty whiskey bottle and extra cans of beer in the recycling bin. The clothes that both of you wore were placed in the laundry, ready for her to wash once you've left the house.

The sun reached its peak, casting a warm glow as Jihyo returned to bed and held you in to her tits as a pillow. “Oppa, I think I like you more than what we currently are.” She confessed quietly, embarrassed to face you knowing that you didn’t feel the same.

#kpop smut #twice smut #jihyo smut #park jihyo

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inthedayswhenlandswerefew · 8 months ago

Text

Where Will All The Martyrs Go [Chapter 2: I’m The Son Of Rage And Love]

Series summary: In the midst of the zombie apocalypse, both you and Aemond (and your respective travel companions) find yourselves headed for the West Coast. It’s the 2024 version of the Oregon Trail, but with less dysentery and more undead antagonists. Watch out for snakes! 😉🐍

Series warnings: Language, sexual content (18+ readers only), violence, bodily injury, med school Aemond, character deaths, nature, drinking, smoking, drugs, Adventures With Aegon, pregnancy and childbirth, the U.S. Navy, road trip vibes, Jace is here unfortunately.

Series title is a lyric from: “Letterbomb” by Green Day.

Chapter title is a lyric from: “Jesus Of Suburbia” by Green Day.

Word count: 6.2k

💜 All my writing can be found HERE! 💜

Let me know if you’d like to be added to the taglist 🥰

On the shores of the Susquehanna River, just north of Harrisburg, you find a Wawa with no gas: bags on all the pumps, cars with their fuel caps unscrewed and dangling. This is a common courtesy adopted en masse, like rationing during the World Wars or flying American flags after 9/11. It signals that a car has already been siphoned, no gasoline to be found here, no transparent flammable gold made of eons-past decomposition. You wonder if in a few million years, some unfathomable new apex species will be drilling your liquefied remains from the lightless layers of the earth to power their spaceships.

“Then we got sent to Joint Base Anacostia-Bolling,” Rio continues, gnawing on a piece of beef jerky, Jack Link’s in a red bag, teriyaki. Mercifully, whoever took the gas left some of the food. You are sitting in the parking lot, a quaint zombie apocalypse picnic, trail mix and Rice Krispies Treats, Herr’s potato chips and Tastykakes, warm soda sipped from plastic bottles. Luke and Rhaena are on the roof of the Tahoe. Jace is tearing the convenience store apart; he is convinced the employees must have kept a gun somewhere in case of robberies. You know he’s fine. You can hear him banging around and swearing in there.

“Then we built some schools and a hospital in Djibouti,” you say.

Aegon is baffled yet intrigued. “Djibouti…?”

“It’s on the Horn of Africa, near Ethiopia and Somalia.”

Luke snorts. “It’s nice of you to assume he knows where Africa is.”

“Huh.” Aegon tosses a green M&M into his mouth. “Djibouti is horny.”

Rio says: “And after that we spent like six months in Key West, and then we got shipped to Corpus Christi, where Chips very narrowly avoided getting impregnated by, marrying, and inevitably acrimoniously divorcing a Marine.”

Everyone laughs except Aemond, who gives you a teasing smirk. “Did you really?”

“Uh, no. He asked me out, I ghosted him, that’s as far as it went.”

“Why’d you ghost him?” Baela says, crunching on Utz Cheese Balls.

Aegon turns to Rio. “You want a Honey Bun?”

“You’re my Honey Bun,” Rio replies. Aegon smiles, his sunburn flushing darker.

You shrug, eat a handful of candied almonds, tell a half-truth. “I just didn’t like him enough.”

Rhaena yelps and points: a snake, black and maybe five feet long, is slithering across the parking lot. It passes beneath the shade of the Tahoe and then continues towards the bushes. A moderate amount of panic erupts.

Helaena glances up from her notebook. “Rat snake. Not venomous.”

Rhaena shudders. “Well, I still don’t like it.”

“Where were you stationed next?” Daeron asks Rio.

“Chinhae, South Korea. Wicked cool place. The people love Americans, the food is incredible. We were there to rebuild a pier that got wrecked in a typhoon. They have these cute dolphin-looking things, they’d swim right up to the edge of the water with fish in their mouths to try to give to us. Like cats bringing home mice for their owners.”

“Finless porpoises,” you say.

“Yeah, those. And after Korea, it was Diego Garcia.”

“Diego…what?” Rhaena says.

Aegon turns to Luke. “Try to act like I’m stupid for not knowing where that is.”

“Diego Garcia is a tiny little island in the middle of the Indian Ocean,” you say, a bit wistfully. “It’s technically owned by the British, but we share a base there, we use it for airfields and to refuel submarines, things like that. We were renovating the housing facilities for Camp Thunder Cove. At night we’d go to the beach, have a few beers, look out into the ocean and it was just…nothing. Wide open dark nothingness for as far as you could imagine.”

“That’s what we need now,” Helaena murmurs as she makes elegant cursive annotations in her notebook, the cover picturing different species of spiders, a pinktoe tarantula, a green lynx spider, a black widow. “Someplace to go where no one will find us.”

“So you’ve known each other since basic training.” Aemond’s remaining blue eye shifts between you and Rio, like he’s still trying to puzzle it out. There’s really no mystery. You’re friends, and you’ve always been friends, and you’ve never been more than friends, despite many of your fellow seamen’s jokes to the contrary.

You tear open a Slim Jim. Aemond rebandaged your hands this morning, though they barely hurt anymore; he touches you with a clinical, focused restraint. “Not quite that long. Rio enlisted a few months before I did, so we weren’t at Great Lakes together, and then carpenters do technical school in Gulfport, Mississippi near Biloxi, and electricians train at Sheppard Air Force Base in Texas. We met after we were both assigned to Naval Mobile Construction Battalion 1.”

“The First and The Finest,” Rio quotes the motto, grinning. “The original Seabees, founded during World War II. People called our battalion the Pioneers, which…is kind of ironic now.”

Aegon says, munching noisily on trail mix: “It’ll be so appropriate when you end up dying of a broken leg or the flu or in some other totally preventable way.”

“It’s so crazy, people died of anything back then,” Luke marvels gravely. “Tuberculosis, pneumonia, infections, starving, freezing, poisoning, getting kicked by a horse, giving birth…”

Rhaena shoots him a fearsome look and Luke shuts up, but of course he can’t take it back. There is a long uncomfortable silence punctuated only by birdsong and Jace’s muffled outbursts from inside the Wawa. Everyone looks at Baela, concerned, pitying, entirely unable to do anything to improve her situation. She is still eating Cheese Balls with one orange-stained hand, but the other rests on her belly.

“Clearly, the timing is less than ideal,” Baela says after a while, and if she’s terrified she doesn’t sound like it. “It wasn’t planned to begin with, but I was determined to make the best of things. I figured that I could still finish up my master’s degree with a baby, and Rhaena and our parents could help, and Jace would be done with law school soon, and it might be stressful for a while but we’d all get through it. And now…” She shrugs wryly. “Now all those plans are gone. Just gone.”

“You’re going to be okay,” Aemond says; a fierce low determination, a promise, a vow.

Baela smiles at Rio. “How old is your baby?”

He is caught off-guard, clears his throat, averts his gaze. Aegon looks over at him, alarmed. “Oh, he, uh…he’s little. Really little. He…” And Rio, so rarely at a loss for words, can’t continue. He eats his beef jerky instead.

You explain for him. “Sophie’s due date was right around the time the phones and internet went down. The last we heard, she was headed to Odessa to stay with Rio’s parents.” Aemond and his companions nod and don’t say what they’re thinking, but it’s swimming in their eyes: Sophie could have died, the baby could have died, they both could have died, you and Rio might be risking your lives to cross the continental United States for nothing. “Rio’s parents live in this…well, I joke around and call it a doomsday prepper cult, but that’s not really what it is, it’s just a farming community out in the middle of nowhere. People who have their own chickens and gardens, churn their own butter, don’t wear deodorant, make medicine out of tree bark…and a lot of them have kind of a survivalist mentality, they stock pantries and collect guns. So we figure we can reunite Rio with his family and then carve out lives for ourselves in relative peace.”

Rio reaches over to bump his fist against your shoulder. He is grateful. You punch him back, fairly forcefully; it’s like hitting a brick wall. Rio is as tall as Aemond but probably outweighs him by a hundred pounds.

You ask Aemond: “What’s in the Bay Area?”

“Our parents have a beach house. It’s up on a cliff by itself, pretty isolated, and surrounded by state parks. That’s where they were when everything shut down. I assume they’re still there.”

“Beach house?” Rio raises his eyebrows. “On a cliff?”

Rich kids. REALLY rich kids. “Your parents couldn’t just fly you to California in a private jet or something?” you say.

“Our pilots stole the jets,” Aemond replies, not realizing you were joking.

“Oh.”

“Jace and Luke’s parents were home in London, so getting there isn’t really an option, and then Baela and Rhaena…”

“Mum and Dad were on a business trip to Moscow,” Baela says. “I’d like to think they weren’t eaten, but…they were probably eaten.”

“I am so sorry,” you manage awkwardly.

A single zombie goes shuffling past the Wawa on the main street, a woman in a floral church dress, hair falling out of its curls, one pink high heel that clicks on the pavement, blood all over her mouth and chin. She notices the nine of you and begins to hiss, lurching closer. Daeron shoots her down and then trots over to retrieve his arrows, yanking them out of her cheek and eye socket. Rhaena winces. Aemond, distracted, bites into a Nature Valley granola bar. Aegon opens a can of Pringles, pizza-flavored.

Luke is peering through his binoculars, looking south towards Harrisburg. Faintly, you can see sunlight glinting off the gilded statue of a woman—the Spirit of the Commonwealth—that tops the green clay tile dome of the state capitol building. “What is that?”

“The sculpture?” you say.

“No. Farther away. Those big concrete towers, right on the water.”

Now you know exactly what he means…and you’d forgotten all about it. It’s an oversight you hope doesn’t cost too much. “That’s Three Mile Island. And we should leave so we can put more space between it and us.”

“Oh, fuck me…” Rio mutters.

Now everyone else is squinting to see the facility, barely visible from the Wawa. “Why?” Aemond asks you.

“Because it’s a nuclear power plant. And since the electricity is out everywhere, as soon as its backup generators fail, it will melt down and the whole area around it will become radioactive.”

Aegon puts two Pringles into his mouth so they look like a duck bill. “How do you know?”

“Did no one else go through a Chernobyl obsession phase in high school?”

“The professor mentioned it in one of my chemistry classes,” Aemond says, but he sounds doubtful; this must have been years ago, when he was consumed by med school prerequisites and had no space left in his brain for mere curiosity.

“Okay, listen up.” Rio knows the key points; he’s had to study different sources of electrical power. He demonstrates with dramatic hand gestures. “You have super radioactive reactor fuel, usually uranium or plutonium. You have a pool of water around it that circulates continuously. The heat of the fuel evaporates the water, which makes steam, which spins turbines, thus creating power. But if the external electricity fails, the water stops circulating, and the heat vaporizes all of it, and when there’s no more water the reactor fuel overheats and melts through the floor and poisons the earth, air, and groundwater. Any questions?”

There is a chorus of distressed chattering as people swiftly rise to their feet, clutching armfuls of snacks for the road. Jace comes trudging out of the Wawa, conspicuously not in possession of a firearm.

“No luck?” Daeron asks.

“Obviously not.” Then Jace snaps at Aemond: “Why were you stomping around all pissed off in the medicine aisle earlier? What were you looking for?”

“Nothing,” Aemond says quickly.

“Seriously, dude, what was it?”

“Nothing!”

“Damn, Plankton, calm down.” Jace shields his face from the sun, following Luke’s nervous eyeline towards the concrete cooling towers to the south. “What’s that?”

“Three Mile Island,” you say. “And we’re leaving now.”

Aegon yawns loudly. “I’m so full! Rio, can you carry me to the car?” And before anyone can tell Aegon to shut up, Rio has crouched down to let him scramble onto his back. Aegon cackles and waves his can of Pringles around as Rio sprints to the Tahoe. Now there are a few more zombies stumbling up the street, but you don’t waste arrows or bullets on them. Baela runs them down as she swerves out of the parking lot and drives northwest, heading towards Clarks Ferry Bridge where you will cross the Susquehanna River in a less populated area and commence the long slog to the Ohio border. She turns up the volume on the CD player: London Bridge by Fergie. Immediately, Rio, Aegon, Daeron, Rhaena, and Luke are singing along.

Baela checks the fuel gauge and looks at Aemond in the rearview mirror. “We have half a tank left.”

“We’ll find gas somewhere.”

“Aemond, it’ll be alright. Don’t worry about me.”

“You’re not going to be able to walk to California.”

Baela can’t think of a response. He’s right. Outside, the miles roll by in a blur of radiant, reptilian, early-summer green.

~~~~~~~~~~

Each time the interstate is blocked by a snarl of crashed vehicles or a backup too thick to navigate through—both common occurrences—Aegon digs the folded map out of his shorts and charts a new course for Baela to follow. This particular divergence might prove fortunate. The Tahoe has rolled into Distant, Pennsylvania, an Appalachian speck of a town, churches, coal mines, dilapidated old sheds. On the outskirts, perched on a hill and surrounded by oak trees, you find a small single-story brick house with a myriad of banners on the flagpole: an American flag, a Confederate flag, a black POW/MIA flag, Don’t Tread On Me, Trump 2024.

“Yeah,” Aegon says, scratching his scruffy chin as he peers up through the windshield. “I feel like they probably owned guns.”

“How do we know they’re not still home?” Baela asks warily.

“No car in the driveway,” Aemond observes. “No windows boarded up. They probably ran into trouble while they were out somewhere and never made it back.” Then he waits, the question upspoken. Are we going to risk it?

“We’re down,” Rio says after exchanging a glance with you.

Aemond turns to Jace. Jace—curly dark hair down to his shoulders, eyes on the house, chewing his full bottom lip apprehensively—doesn’t reply at first.

“You said you wanted a gun, Jace. All the Walmarts are cleaned out. This is what shopping looks like now.”

“Fine. Okay. Let’s go.”

Baela parks the Tahoe in the gravel driveway and tells Rhaena and Luke to stay inside with Helaena until the property has been cleared. The rest of you climb out, afternoon sun and mountain wind, dandelions crushed under your shoes. There’s a barn behind the house, you see now, gaps between the wooden boards and flaking red paint.

Luke is standing up through the open sunroof, inspecting the scene with his binoculars. “No movement.”

“We’ll take the house, if you want,” Rio tells Aemond. You’re clutching your borrowed baseball bat with bandaged hands, though it still feels unnatural; your M9 is in its holster in case of emergencies. Jace, Baela, and Daeron start plodding across the yard towards the barn. The grass is tall and mostly shaded, the oak trees decades old, massive, weaving a patchwork canopy of leaves.

Aegon trots over and slaps Aemond on his left shoulder, his blind side. Aemond says without looking at him: “I’ll go with them. You wait out here.”

Aegon drives an imaginary ball with his golf club. “I’m very sensitive to rejection, you know.”

“You’ll survive.” Then Aemond follows you and Rio to the house.

Rio tries the knob, locked. He doesn’t waste a bullet by trying to shoot the lock off the door, something that is far less reliable than movies would have you believe. He kicks it open instead, three tries and then the screws that secure the latch give way and the door swings ajar. You wait, counting seconds in your head, listening for growls or footsteps. There are no sounds except the breeze sighing through the trees, the warbles and wing flaps of birds. You steal a glimpse of the barn. Jace, Baela, and Daeron have unhooked the rusted iron latch and are venturing inside, Daeron last and glancing around watchfully, his compound bow already drawn. Rio steps into the house.

It’s hot, stifling, all the windows shut. But this has its advantages. You inhale deeply: no trace of decomposition, no black swampy nauseating rot, just dust and lemon Pledge and old-people staleness.

“Smells fine,” Rio says. And then, loudly: “Anyone home? We’re just looking for supplies. We don’t want to hurt you. If anybody is here, just let us know and we’d be happy to leave. And, uh, sorry about the door.”

You stay close to Rio as he sweeps through the living room—floral couch, television turned off, crosses on the walls—and then the kitchen, where bananas are turning black on the counter. Aemond is to your right; he’s placed you on his blind side. He trusts me, you think. When did that happen? You haven’t heard anything from Aegon or the barn. That must be going well.

In the bedroom, Aemond pulls the curtains open to let some light in. You search the drawers, the closet, under the bed. No weapons. The bathroom has 1950s-style pink porcelain, the dining room table is set for a meal that never happened. There is a deer head mounted on the wall, ten points, not bad.

“I can’t believe these fuckers didn’t have guns,” Rio says. “But where the hell are they?!”

You have always watched more than you’ve spoken. That’s why you’re good at shooting things, and why you’re still alive. Rio talks and you listen; Rio acts and you reflect. “Wait.” You turn to Aemond. “Did you see a cellar outside?”

“A what?” He is perplexed. “Like…a wine cellar…?”

“No. A regular cellar.” You walk back into the midday heat and circle the house, Aemond and Rio hurrying to keep up. Over by the barn, everyone else is stretched out across the grass, joking, relaxing, Baela with her hammer on the ground and her hands laced over her belly, Helaena cradling a praying mantis in her palms and showing it to Rhaena. Aegon is teaching Luke how to smoke with a pack of Marlboro Golds he found at the Wawa. Luke, game yet somewhat anxious, takes a puff and then immediately coughs until he starts retching.

“I want to try too,” Daeron says.

Aegon shakes his head, taking a nonchalant drag off his own cigarette. “Nope. Not for you. Illegal. You’re under eighteen.”

“I want to try!”

“Shut up, you can’t even vote.”

“Nobody can vote, the government has collapsed!”

You find it at the back of the house: a pair of large metal doors leading down into the underground cellar. The weeds have begun to encroach on them, wild violets and black nightshade.

“Awesome!” Rio says, lifting the doors open one at a time, the hinges shrieking. They’re heavy, but they cause him no trouble. Underneath is a staircase and a room dark with shadows; you can see a light switch that won’t work, the electricity long gone. Rio unclips the flashlight from his belt—taken from Saratoga Springs, waterproof with a 90-degree head so it doesn’t roll, known as a Moonbeam—and ducks down into the cellar. It’s a small room, easy to clear, and then you can start inventorying your findings. Rio is laughing, ecstatic. There is a workbench, a coil of thick rope, an array of tools—screwdrivers, wrenches, hammers, saws—some homemade leather wallets and holsters, cans of Brillo color spray…and then a treasure trove of weapons mounted on the walls.

You scan the collection. “We got Marlin .22s, we got Ruger Magnums, we got Remington 12 gauges, we got hunting knives…and one Glock 20.”

“A lot of ammo under here, Chips,” Rio says, yanking boxes out from beneath the workbench and stacking them on the floor, organized by caliber.

“No scopes?”

“Not that I’ve seen yet.”

You lift one of the Remingtons off its hooks and examine it: dusty, unloaded, vines of rust on the receiver. “We’ll have to go through and sight all of them. I don’t think they’ve been used in a while.”

“That’ll be a lot of noise. But here’s the place to do it, I guess. Low population, and we’re not staying.”

“Exactly.”

“Sight them for close range, like ten yards?”

“Yeah, that should work.”

Aemond says, eyebrow raised: “I didn’t know the Navy used shotguns.”

“Everyone hunts where I’m from.” You put the Remington down on the workbench then pick up the Glock, a box of 10mm ammo, and a can of Brillo. “Come on. Grab one of those hammers. I’ll show you how to shoot.”

You bound up the cellar steps and out into the shade of the oak trees, not stopping until you are at the edge of the property. Across the backyard where he lounges on the grass, Aegon gestures to the barn and asks Luke: “What’s in there anyway?”

“Nothing. Saddles and a few dead horses.”

“Oh, dynamite, I gotta see the dead horses.”

Jace says: “Aegon, man, what is your diagnosis?”

You use the can of Brillo to spray a large chocolate-colored circle onto a tree trunk, then make another two feet above that. You count your steps as you walk back towards Aemond: approximately ten yards. You load a single bullet in the Glock, aim for the bottom circle, and fire. A hole appears at the very edge of the circle. You take the hammer from Aemond and give the rear sight a few knocks. “This isn’t recommended, but it usually works.”

Aemond is smiling. “Okay.”

You load the full magazine and try again. The bullet hits closer to the middle this time. “Here. Both hands.”

Aemond takes the Glock but hesitates. “Is…my eye…?”

“It shouldn’t be a problem. A lot of people close one eye anyway when they’re aiming. I always do.”

He is relieved. “Oh. Good.”

You tap the underside of the Glock. Aemond obediently lifts it. “The line of sight is slightly higher than the barrel, so you have to account for that. And then gravity will pull the bullet lower, and the longer the range of the shot, the more it will drop. So when you fire, the barrel should be angled upwards just the tiniest bit, not horizontal.”

“Like throwing a football.”

“Yeah, exactly. It’s an arc, not a straight line. At first it’ll feel like you’re trying to do all these calculations in your head, and it will be overwhelming, but then it becomes muscle memory and you don’t even have to think about it.” Jace, Baela, and Daeron are now eagerly crossing the yard to help Rio carry the guns out of the cellar and receive their own lessons. “Alright, we’re going to start with a really terrifying enemy. I want you to shoot that tree.”

“What a formidable tree.”

“Aim for the top circle. And if you hit it, then you can practice on Jace.”

Aemond laughs, butter-yellow sunlight filtering down through the trees, the shadows of leaves flickering over his skin, a mosaic of flesh and earth. You ghost your open hand down the length of his arm as if adjusting the angle. Really, you just want to touch him, to feel his warmth and his stillness, the tension of his muscles, the rhythm of his pulse. He’s watching you, lips parted, goosebumps rising beneath your fingertips. Birds are chirping, sparrows and blue jays. High above, squirrels leap and scrabble through the branches. You pull your hand away.

“Look through the sights. The rear sight at the back of the barrel is shaped like a U, and the one at the front is an I. Is the I in the middle of the U?”

“I have no idea.” A pause as he reconsiders. “Yes.”

“Right, it is, and the bullet should go exactly where you want it to because I already sighted that Glock. I’ll show you how to do it later. Now shoot the tree.”

Aemond aims but doesn’t pull the trigger. He’s nervous; he doesn’t want to seem incompetent, pathetic. You imagine it is rare that he isn’t the one with the solutions.

“Hey,” you say softly, and he looks over at you. “You don’t judge me for not knowing how to cure people. I won’t judge you for not knowing how to kill them. Deal?”

Now he’s smiling again. “Deal.” He returns his attention to the tree, lets a few more seconds tick by, and fires. He hits one of the branches. “Oh, that is…embarrassing.”

“It’s not that bad. You hit something. Try again.”

More seconds, more birdsong, more wind through the grass and the leaves. Aemond’s second bullet pierces the trunk about six inches above the top circle. “Yes!” he cheers, boyish triumph on his scarred face.

You resist touching him. It is startlingly difficult. “That was really good.”

He lowers the Glock, and you click the safety on for him. “Can I ask you something?”

“Sure,” you say.

“Why’d you ghost that Marine at Corpus Christi?”

“I told you. I didn’t like him enough.”

“Okay, sure, but actually. What was wrong with him?”

“I’ve known you for like twenty-four hours. You think you’ve earned all my secrets?”

“Well, not all of them,” Aemond says, grinning. Rio is showing Jace, Baela, and Daeron how to load the .22s. Aegon is swinging his golf club in circles as he follows Luke into the barn. Helaena and Rhaena are giggling as butterflies land on their outstretched fingers. “But our time together could be very finite. It seems unwise to waste it by trying to preserve some amount of mystery.”

“You’ve convinced me.” You want to be known by him, you want to be understood. That is a frightening thing to realize. It’s like handing a stranger the keys to your home. Will they visit graciously, or will they rob you, ruin you, burn you down? “I haven’t seen many examples of love working out for people. I’ve seen couples who hated each other, and couples who split up, and a lot of women having to raise kids all on their own and turning into these…bitter, exhausted, hollowed-out versions of themselves. I never wanted that to be me. And for as long as I can remember, I’ve felt like that was just one wrong choice away from becoming my life. I don’t want men to disappoint me. So I don’t give them the chance.”

You think Aemond is going to say something cheap, flirtatious, awful: Give me a chance, baby. I won’t disappoint you. Instead he says: “I haven’t known many happy couples either. I mean…Luke and Rhaena would be the closest, I guess. But they’re so young. I’m not sure if they count.”

“Rio and Sophie seem happy. But they’ve also barely seen each other in five years.”

“It does things to you, when you start to believe love might be doomed to end or tear you apart or turn to hatred. If it’s just an evolutionary mirage to trick us into reproducing, what’s the point of giving someone that power over you?”

“Exactly.”

“I feel like one of us should be trying to talk the other out of being so fatalistically cynical.”

“Yeah, totally. Okay. You talk me out of it.”

He chuckles. “No, I don’t think I can. You talk me out of it.”

You’re watching Aemond, realizing you like everything about him—his smirk, his height, his hands, the clear direct blue of his eye—and wondering what the hell you’re going to do about it. Then there is a scream from the barn.

What?? Who??

“Luke!” Aemond shouts, and takes off across the yard. Now you’re all running, even Rhaena and Helaena who don’t have anything to fight with. Everyone is yelling, their lungs heaving in wild June air, their shoes pounding against the earth.

Inside the barn, on a wooden floor strewn with hay, Luke is shrieking as he tries to push a zombie off of him with his bare hands. She’s an older woman, grey hair in rollers, yellow nightgown stained with gore. Something has happened to her feet. Both of her legs end in exposed tibias and flapping strips of purplish, rotting skin. Aegon is beating her with his golf club, but he can’t get a good shot at her head. If he accidentally hits Luke, he could make it worse, he could stun him or even knock him out, and he’ll be bitten in the few seconds it takes anyone to remove his undead assailant. Rio lunges to grab the zombie. She snaps at him with bared teeth and he retreats, drawing his M9.

“Don’t shoot!” Jace is saying. The air is putrid: dead horses, dead people. “You’ll hit Luke!”

Your own M9 is suddenly in your hands, the safety clicked off, one eye closed. “Luke, don’t move.”

“Kill it, kill it!” he pleads hysterically, pushing the zombie as far from him as he can, his palms sinking into the decomposing bruise-colored tissue of her chest and throat.

“Don’t shoot!” Jace orders, but you ignore him. He fades into the background with all the other frenzied voices. Your finger on the trigger, a boom like thunder, bits of bone and brains against the wall. Luke shoves the corpse away, trembling, sobbing. Rhaena flies to him.

Aegon spots the fresh blood on Luke’s right hand and panics. “Is that a bite?!”

Luke notices the wound for the first time. “I don’t know!”

“What do you mean you don’t know?!”

“I don’t know!” Luke wails, tears flooding down his pink face.

“I thought you cleared the barn!” Aemond roars at Aegon.

“It fell out of the loft, we didn’t think anything was up there!”

Luke is blubbering: “I hit my hand against one of the stalls, I think that’s how I cut myself, I was just…I was pushing it away…I didn’t think it bit me…oh my God, I don’t know, I don’t know, I don’t want to die…”

“It only takes once, kid,” Rio says grimly, fidgeting with his M9, looking at Aemond as if for permission.

“Don’t touch him!” Jace hisses, stepping in front of his brother and clutching his bat. “No one is going to hurt him, it’s not a bite, you can’t prove it’s a bite!”

You reach for Luke’s bleeding hand. “Can I see—?”

“Get away from him!” Jace swings his bat. The tip of it connects with your skull, just a graze fortunately, but still enough to rattle you. Rio charges Jace, tackles him to the floor, starts throwing punches. Baela has apparently forgotten she’s heavily pregnant and is trying to pull them apart. You join her.

He’s going to demolish Jace. He’s going to break his nose or jaw or something. “Rio stop, I’m fine, stop!”

There is another gunshot, a cataclysmic earth-shaking explosion that makes the pain in your head surge from a ripple to a wave. Aemond is aiming his Glock skywards; a hole has appeared in the roof of the barn. “Stand up!” he commands. Rio and Jace reluctantly comply. You help Baela to her feet.

“Aemond,” Jace says. “You have to stop them, they’re going to kill Luke—”

“No one is killing anybody.” Aemond lowers his Glock. “Maybe he’s been bitten. Maybe he hasn’t been. And even if we knew for sure that he was going to turn, we don’t just execute people like this, threatening them when they’re terrified. We have humanity. We have compassion.”

There is a silence that strikes you as heavy, laden, holding meaning that escapes you. Aegon points at Luke. “So what the fuck are we going to do about him?”

“We’ll tie him up,” Aemond decides.

“What?!” Luke exclaims.

“There’s rope in the cellar. We’ll tie his arms and legs so he can’t do anything and keep him like that for a few days until either his hand heals up or he turns into a zombie. Someone will always have to be with him to help him eat and take a piss and also…you know. Deal with it if he turns.”

“I’ll stay with him,” Rhaena says immediately.

Aemond’s voice is now gentle, sympathetic. “I don’t think you want this.”

“If Luke has to die, I should be the person with him.”

“You’ve never had to put someone down before.” And in this statement lives another: Aemond knows what that feels like. Aemond has had to kill someone when they turned.

“I’ll stay with him,” Rhaena says again, this frail harmless doe-eyed girl, and you see a steeliness in her that you hadn’t thought existed.

“Okay,” Aemond relents. “When you’re asleep, Jace or I will take over.”

“It’s not a bite,” Jace murmurs, like he’s trying to convince himself.

“We’ll all find out soon enough,” Rio says, casting him a glare, then goes to fetch the coil of rope from the cellar.

Aemond cleans and bandages the wound on Luke’s hand. Then the weapons, ammo, and newly immobilized Luke are loaded into the Tahoe. Aemond asks you once everyone else is inside: “How’s your head?”

“Fine, I think.”

“Hurts?”

“Just a little.”

“Dizzy? Double vision?”

“No, nothing like that.”

He takes a quick look, parting your hair with his fingertips, feeling gingerly for blood and swelling. And this is becoming a serious problem: every time he touches you, you want more.

“Aemond…who did you have to kill?”

He doesn’t answer. For another moment his hand lingers by your temple, then Aemond turns away and climbs into the Tahoe. This time, no one sings along to the next song on the mixtape. Heads rest on windows, eyes are vacant and misty. Baela steers the Tahoe westbound on Route 1004, the Chainsmokers drifting through the speakers: All We Know.

~~~~~~~~~~

“Pick a card, any card,” Aegon says when he’s done shuffling. He fans out the entire Uno deck face-down and offers it to Rio, Aemond, and Jace. They each select a card, then Aegon picks one for himself. Finally, he holds out the deck to Luke, who stares up incredulously from where he’s still bound with rope and sitting on a curb in the parking lot of a Burger King just outside of Yarnell, Pennsylvania.

“Are you serious?”

“You’re an adult male, aren’t you? You think being in the middle of transforming into an undead murder machine exempts you from gasoline siphoning duty?”

“I’m fine!” Luke insists.

“Great. Then pick a card.”

“I can’t move my hands, you idiot.”

“Pick it with your mouth.”

“I hate you.” Luke bites his card of choice and waits with it clasped between his teeth, glowering.

“I want to pick a card,” Daeron says cheerfully.

Aegon refuses. “No. Too young. A baby.”

“Aegon, I’m seventeen!”

“Can’t enlist, can’t do jury duty, can’t buy lottery tickets, can’t sign up to drink gasoline. Okay, everybody show their cards.”

“I got a three,” Jace says, then yanks Luke’s card out of his mouth and reads it. “He got a skip.”

Aemond’s card is a nine, Rio’s a five, Aegon’s a reverse. “That means you lose, Jace,” Aegon announces, admittedly rather gleeful. “You had the lowest number.”

“This is bullshit, I had to siphon last time!”

“Then stop picking bad cards.”

“Jace, I can do it,” Aemond says.

“And get to be the martyr, as usual? No thanks. Give me the damn hose.”

Aegon roots around under the Tahoe seats and produces a long, semitransparent siphoning hose. “All the ones with the little pump attachments were sold out everywhere by the time we thought that might be useful,” he explains to you and Rio.

“That sucks, Jace,” Rio says. “I mean, literally, it sucks.”

“Next time we cross a bridge, I’m pushing you off it.” Jace takes the hose from Aegon, pops open the gas cap of the Dodge Ram 3500 you’ve found, and threads the hose down into the tank. He sucks on the other end and then shoves it into the Tahoe once the gasoline starts flowing. The fuel gauge was hovering just above E. Hopefully you can get at least a few gallons out of the Ram, another fifty or a hundred miles, maybe even two hundred, enough to get you across the Ohio border.

Jace is bent over and vomiting gasoline onto the pavement. Rhaena and Baela sit with Luke as Aemond feels his forehead and peers into his eyes. Daeron accompanies Helaena as she goes to scavenge inside the Burger King, her burlap messenger bag slung over one shoulder. Rio is now holding the siphoning hose and watching the liquid gold pour into the Tahoe, his smile growing with each passing second. Your eyes fall on Aemond and stay there, his careful hands, his brow knitted with concentration.

A whisper from behind you: “We could fake date to make him jealous.”

You whirl to see Aegon, mischievous smirk, neon green plastic sunglasses. “That is a super generous offer and I appreciate the thought you put into it, but no.”

“Why not?”

“It’s dishonest. It’s manipulative. If something is going to happen with Aemond, I want it to be real.”

Aegon sighs. “No, you’re right, it was a dumb idea. I just figured I have a lot of experience.”

“Experience with what?”

“People pretending to love me.” He flashes a strange, sad smile, then follows Daeron and Helaena into the Burger King.

#aemond targaryen x reader #aemond targaryen #aemond x reader #aemond x y/n #aemond x you #aemond targaryen x you #aemond targaryen x y/n

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trivia-yandere · 2 years ago

Text

two sentence horror story

you ran up to the first person you saw - a man inside his car whose tires screeched upon you jumping in front of it - and screamed how you were kidnapped and blindfolded. masterlist | @darkuni63 | @momnomnom | @sweetempathprunetree |

writer: quae (explicit-tae)

word count: 4.284

warning: disturbing scenes, reader is taken, reader makes a dumb decision - don't be like reader, aphrodisiac intake, dubcon/noncon scenes, erotic massages, fingering, oral (f receiving), unprotected sex, impregnation kink, creampie,

You ran up to the first person you saw - a man inside his car whose tires screeched upon you jumping in front of it - and screamed how you were kidnapped and blindfolded.

You take a deep breath, massaging your temples. You were going to explode if you didn’t get out of here - your desk at the office. The workload your boss had slammed onto your desk didn’t match up with your schedule out of work. How were you expected to run errands after? You could barely manage to eat lunch some days and opted to not even leave your desk to do so.

“Doing another double?”

You stopped massaging your temples to turn towards Irina. She has a sympathetic look on her face.

Nodding your head, Irina nods. “Same.” she groans. “It’s like they think we’re robots.”

“Tell me about it.”

Irina was your desk neighbor, only being a few feet away and separated by a makeshift wall. She isn’t tall in the slightest but her heels make the majority of her height. She has dyed ginger hair that she often places in a low ponytail and the brightest hazel eyes you’re ever seen. She stands over the wall to speak with you.

“Maybe you need a break.” Irina wiggles her brows. “For a few days. Take PTO.”

You’re unsure, and Irina senses this.

“I was just like you last week.” Irina says. “Bags under my eyes and all. But you see how refreshed I am after my break.”

Irina had a point. She smiled more and had a glow that could only appear when one was out of work - paid at that. You assumed she got the much needed rest and maybe even hit up a spa - you never asked, not one to ever pry.

“I’m not really sure.” you trail off. You had PTO, but only ever used it for holidays and your birthday, and even then it wasn’t as if you did anything out of the ordinary.

“Are you single?” Irina asks in a hushed whisper. The question is odd. She never pried into your life before.

Slowly, you nod.

Irina’s lips curled into a sly smirk.

“I know exactly what you need, Y/N.” Irina backs away and you can hear her at her desk, rummaging around. Her heels click against the floor as she comes to your desk. She places down a small, rectangular card. “A massage.”

“A massage?” you snort. You read the words on the card and hum.

“Between you and me,” Irina starts, whispering once more. “It’s an erotic massage.”

It takes you a few moments to get where Irina was coming from.

“O-Oh.” you’re embarrassed and unsure what to say.

“Maybe you just need to relax.” Irina giggles. “You know. Have an attractive man massage you…” Irina trails off. She’s unsure if she should continue or if that would be going too far. “Just think about it and let me know. First time is half off!”

You think about Irina’s words the entire day and when you’re home soaking in your bath, you decide to check out the website.

The website was official, but you needed a code to get in. Irina had sent you one once you asked about it, excited that you were checking into it.

The website had pictures and videos of said “erotic massages” and you were sure that it was just amateur porn. But you’d admit, the way the men - and even women if that was what visitors were into - massaged their clients, it appeared to be amazing.

You pondered if that was what you needed. A good massage (and a good fuck). But wasn’t that paying for sex? You haven’t paid for sex before (of course) and you’re unsure how this works.

Reading the website, you are greeted with many pictures of men with their names and important details about them - even STD screenings if you were going to engage sexually with them.

“So, did you book a massage?” Irina asks you the following day, giddy and excited to hear your thoughts.

You shake your head. “It’s all…so new to me.” you admit.

Irina nods her head in agreement. She understood completely.

“But I’m not…against it. Is that crazy?” “Of course not!” Irina exclaims. “We all need a good orgasm. You’ll come back good as new afterwards.”

You feel yourself grow hot. “How many bookings did you do?”

“Five days out of the 7 I was off.” Irina cackles. “It was amazing. If you’re interested in sex, you get to pick your poison.”

“Excuse me?” you raise a brow.

Pick your poison.

Your eyes scanned the hundreds of categories displayed in front of you.

Bound.

Gag.

Anal play.

You exhale.

What in the world were you about to get yourself into?

Picking your poison was harder than you’d expect. You weren’t an avid porn watcher, but when you did to get yourself off, there were a few things you’d be willing to try - and a ton that you weren’t.

It took you a few days to even start your own application process. Something about this felt off - wrong. You were technically paying for sex and it makes you feel desperate. You’ve busied yourself with work that finding a partner or even a hookup is difficult. You wouldn’t never thought about paying for an erotic massage to get your mind off of work and destress yourself.

But, you were also too far in. You’ve made an account, browsed through several videos and pictures of said massages and even searched through potential masseurs.

Your PTO was approved. You had to go through countless documents before your boss would even consider, but you were approved nonetheless and you were excited. You were jittery finishing the last document, the thought of you getting off and picking your masseur.

“You finished early.” Irina’s voice sounds besides you as you’re strolling out of the office. She has a knowing smirk on her lips, eyebrows wiggling suggestively. “Have you picked your masseur?”

You shake your head.

“That’s okay.” Irina waves off. “It took me a whole day to decide. As long as you pick your poison, it’d be better to find your masseur.”

You swallow. You indeed had picked your poison and it filtered through hundreds of masseurs and masseuses who experienced doing so.

Irina suddenly stops walking as you reach the parking garage. She turns to you. “Don’t back down.” she says and you’re confused by her sudden change of tone. “You got this. Just relax and enjoy your mini vacation.”

You nod your head with a slight gulp. “I’ll try.” Your voice is low and meek and Irina only offers a smile and a short wave before she makes her way to her car.

Your mind replays Irina’s words.

Don’t back down.

You got this.

It was your first day of your vacation and you’ve spent hours scouting through profiles of masseurs. You were sure that you weren’t a picky person - but no one has caught your eye. You contemplated giving up countless times, but you were determined. You needed this - a get away from reality.

A notification sounds through your laptop and you’re taken aback. On the right top corner of the screen shows a little message. You click it and a tab pops up. It appears to be a livechat with the service.

Still deciding on a masseur?

You re-read the message and groan. You type back a response.

Yes.

Three dots are forming onto the bottom of the chat and you await a response.

If you’d like, we can send recommendations.

Or…

Your eyes wait in anticipation for the next response. Or what?

We can open your profile for masseurs to find. You would be met with masseurs in your area who fit your poison categories.

Would you be interested?

You gulp. Having the masseurs message instead of doing it yourself appeared to be easier. You were an indecisive person after all - maybe if your options were limited then it would make your decision easier.

Yes, please.

The following day you awoke like normal. You showered, ate and got ready to go back onto the site. You were expecting only a few messages from masseurs - not hundreds. Your eyes are wide as you scour through the messages and profile pictures of the men.

Now you were left more indecisive than before.

Another notification sounds on your laptop and you’re expecting it to be the livechat but it wasn’t.

“Taehyung.” your lips murmur out the name of the masseur messaging you.

The man was attractive. He appeared tall with dark hair and the same dark eyes. In the pictures displayed, he showed countless pictures all from headshots to body.

The lip ring paired with hydrated lips are what catches your eyes instantly, the sleeve of tattoos are next. His smile was addictive and it reminded you of a bunny.

Your mind was set - Jungkook was going to be your masseur.

Taehyung’s prices were lower than the others and you contemplated why, but you wouldn’t complain.

You submitted your own STD screening after you acquired Taehyung’s paired with a driver's license and a masseur’s certificate.

All that was left to do was speak with Taehyung. Your nerves were getting at you - this man would eventually see you naked. He was hot - insanely so. How many times had he himself done this?

You were suddenly getting second thoughts about this.

Irina’s words replayed in your head.

You got this.

You inhale deeply. “I got this.” you say to yourself.

You anticipated the phone to ring any moment now, and when it had you instantly grasped it and answered. You mentally slapped yourself at appearing so desperate for a man’s attention.

“H-Hello.”

“Hello.”

Taehyung’s voice is deep and smooth. Your legs shake at just the sound of it.

“Hi.” is all you could muster out and a laugh is heard on the other side of the phone.

“Hi.” Taehyung repeats. “You’re Y/N, I assume.”

You nod without realizing. “Yes.”

“It’s nice to meet you, Y/N. Over the phone, at least. I’m Taehyung.” Your mind flashes with Taehyung and how he looks right now.

You and Taehyung speak for over a half an hour - speaking business and detailing what you’d be doing while with him. He had gone over your poison - much to your dismay - and agreed that they were mild compared to the rest of the categories.

“One of your poison picking was to be blind folded.” Taehyung murmurs. “That’s what we would start with when you come. I will be sending you my address shortly and you’ll be greeted upon arrival. I’ll pass you what you’ll need.”

You listen to Taehyung speak.

“You are familiar with erotic massages, right?”

“Only with what I see on the site.” you curse at how uneducated you were.

Taehyung chuckles. “Cute.” he murmurs. “You’ll be naked, of course. I’ll place a robe and your blindfold in the dressing room.”

“Okay.” you respond, cheeks flushed.

“I can’t wait to meet you, Y/N.”

The following evening you were a wreck. You’ve showered, scrubbing any inch of dirt off your skin. You lightly lotioned your body, your mind recalling that the masseur would be rubbing oil onto you. You combed your hair and placed it into a low bun and when it was time for you to go, you did several takes in the mirror to assure you were presentable.

The address he sent you wasn’t far and when you arrived you were surprised to find that it appeared to be a business - more like a convenient store in size. The windows are large, but not see through. You can see your reflection as you stroll towards the door.

The door sounds as you enter the small shop. The floors are hardwood and the walls were a light color. In front of you sat a large desk with a computer on the other side - you assumed a receptionist desk. You’re anxious for what's to come when a door to your right opens and Taehyung comes out. He’s wearing a tight fitted dark shirt with a collar and slacks.

“Y/L Y/N?” Taehyung asks with a bright smile, bunny teeth on display. His voice was different in person. “I’m Taehyung.” he bows slightly and offers you his hand to take, and when you do he gently kisses it. “It’s lovely to meet you.”

“Likewise.” you murmur softly, starstruck by the man's beauty and charisma.

“If you would like to follow me.” Taehyung closes the door behind him and passes you around the receptionist desk. “Back here is where we’d be for the day.”

You follow closely past two sliding doors. It opens to reveal a large room. The room is slightly darker than the previous one and you assume it was to fit the vibe. One wall is fully stocked with mirrors while the one forward had a dark crimson color. In the middle of the room sat one medium size massage bed and on top of it, one robe, a towel and a blindfold.

“I’ll leave to allow you to get undressed. The robe is optional if you are not yet comfortable with starting the massage. If you are, you can get undressed and place the towel on you.”

“Okay.” you nod your head.

Taehyung leaves and you take a deep breath. There was no backing down now. You had already paid your deposit for your appointment and now you are here.

You begin to undress yourself, placing your folded clothes neatly on a nearby chair. You grasped the towel and wrapped your body with it and laid upon the massage bed.

A knock sounds a couple of minutes later and Taehyung enters once more.

“Are you feeling alright?” Taehyung asks. He’s holding a cup in his hands. “I got you some tea. It should help with your nerves.”

You grasp the warm tea being placed in your hands. You nod at his question before sipping the tea. It was delicious and you could taste the mixed fruit infused with it.

Taehyung takes the cup of tea once you are finished with it and he places it down on a nearby table. He faces you. “Are you ready?”

“Yes.” you say with a gulp.

You lay back onto the massage bed, chest against it and you cross your arms to rest your head. You feel your towel gently be removed from your body and a gush of cold air greets you.

You hum slowly once you feel Taehyung’s large hands begin to rub and tug against your back, rising up to your neck and falling back all the way down your spine and to your lower back.

“You must work so hard.” Taehyung notes. “You have a lot of knots.”

You hum in agreement. Your anxiousness and worry were slowly fading as time passes. The massage is amazing and you feel as though you could kiss Irina for recommending you such a sight.

“I’m going to put the blindfold on now, alright?” Taehyung says suddenly and you nearly forgot about your poisons.

You nod without hesitation and your head is lifted slightly so that the blindfold can wrap around you. It’s tight, but it doesn’t bother you.

“I’m going to step out to grab the rest of the supplies needed for your massage.”

You hear the door open and footsteps sound. It closes a few minutes later and you feel Taehyung’s presence inside the room.

“She’s ready.” Jungkook murmurs to Taehyung who is standing outside the room, a box of sex toys ready for your massage. “Don’t have too much fun.” Jungkook calls from down the hall.

“I’ll try not to.” Taehyung whispers low to himself.

Taehyung places the box of toys down onto a table and marvels at your naked body.

“Are you ready?” Taehyung’s voice is low, raspy and deep. You gulp and nod your head.

Taehyung places a hand along your backside until he’s touching your ass. He rubs it, already placing the oil onto it.

The sounds of your sweet moans are already sending him over the edge. He’s hard and wishes he could have you the way he wants. But Taehyung was a patient man. He waited this long to have you. Paying Irina possibly cost him more than it should and displaying Jungkook’s pictures on the website to assure you didn’t know his identity was risky - but worth it if it meant he could have you.

Taehyung’s fingers fall dangerously close to your clit as he rubs your ass and you whimper at the closeness. It would be a matter of time until you’re a complete and utter mess thanks to the aphrodisiac Jungkook has made for you.

You release a high groan when Taehyung presses a thumb onto your clit. He rubs gently at first and you’re arching your back to get more impact.

Your hole is teasing him, pulsing for him to enter his fingers inside of you - so he does. He enters two at first to stretch you out.

You feel amazing - more than you usually do during sex. You tell yourself it’s because you haven't had an actual man pleasure you in a while and there's only so much a vibrator can do.

Taehyung fucks his fingers inside of you. You moan loudly, unable to control them any longer.

Taehyung encourages you to arch your back so he can have deeper access by wrapping a free arm beneath your stomach to arch you forward.

“You’re so wet.” Taehyung groans. He removes his fingers to place them inside his mouth and he himself moans at how amazing you taste.

Taehyung enters his fingers back inside of you and continues to pump. He lowers himself to your ear, enjoying the way you moan so sweetly for him.

You feel Taehyung release you just to flip you over onto your back. You’re trembling still and your pussy throbs, missing the way Taehyung’s fingers felt inside of it.

Taehyung presses a soft kiss against your cheeks before his lips touch yours. The feeling is amazing, no matter how intimate it felt. You speculate that it was a part of his job - to pleasure you in all ways he could. You hadn’t cared in the slightest.

Taehyung loves the way your lips taste and he wants to savor the taste, but he’s sure he has more than enough time to. He trails kisses down your neck to your chest and he couldn’t help but flick his tongue against your nipple.

Taehyung gropes both of your breasts, massaging as his tongue wraps around your nipple fully and he suckles on it. You’re moaning loudly and breathing heavily at the feeling. Your mind is drifting away from any anxiety you felt - almost as if it was never present to begin with. Your body feels hot and amazing thanks to Taehyung.

Taehyung trails his right hand between your legs, slapping your inner thighs to allow him access. He rubs your clit rapidly, suckling on your breast as if his life depended on it.

You squeeze your eyes shut - not as if you could see regardless - and your body feels hot. Your stomach churns and you’re shaking your head side to side.

“You’re about to cum.” Taehyung chuckles darkly against your nipples. He licks it one last time before lifting himself up. He continues to fuck his fingers inside of you, eyes watching intently the way your pussy gushes out your juices onto the massage bed.

You flinch just as Taehyug removes his fingers from inside of you.

Taehyung isn’t upset that you’ve squirted and managed to make a mess of yourself - it’s exactly what he wanted.

“We’re not done, baby.” Taehyung says and you shiver at the pet name.

Taehyung needed to taste you before he could fuck you. He rounds the massage bed and lowers himself to your legs, already wide and inviting.

Taehyung licks along your clit and he grunts. He nods his head from side to side, fingers firmly gripped on your thighs to assure you do not move.

You were overstimulated and going crazy. You’ve already came once, but Taehyung was determined to make you cum again - and again until you’re begging him to stop.

Taehyung’s glad he got you in his grasp; so glad and excited that he would be able to eat you out everyday. You would never leave his side again.

“It feels so good.” your words appear slurred but you couldn’t help yourself.

Taehyung watches your face, your lips are opening and closing and a few times even being bitten by your teeth. He’s positive you’re overwhelmed with pleasure - you worked so hard everyday and you never had the chance to ever relax.

But now Taehyung has entered your life and you no longer need to work.

Just as Taehyung felt like you were going to cum - due to your heavy breathing and loud moaning, he removes his tongue from your clit and he slaps it.

“I’m going to fuck you.” Taehyung states. His initial plan was to pleasure you, using all of your kinks you displayed on your profile. But you and he had eternity together so he would always get the chance to another time.

Taehyung removes his pants and underwear in a swift movement. He always fantasized what your pussy would feel like and now he would finally get the chance to.

Taehyung releases a long groan as he enters you. Your pussy was amazing - so wet and tight just for him. He wants to go easy on you knowing that you hadn’t had sex in such a long time, but he can’t. He’s uncontrollable, fucking into you at such a brutal paced that the massage bed is screeching against the floor.

Your breast are bouncing as Taehyung fucks you. Your head is thrown back and your mind is swirling. The sensation never feels enough - you never felt like this before. Even with the amount of times you managed to cum, you could never get enough.

Were you this stressed? This cock-hungry?

You’re unsure how long Taehyung fucks you. It’s as though you completely black out.

You get flipped onto your front and he fucks into you at the same brutal pace, slapping your ass hard until it bruises. He wraps a hand around your neck as he does so and whispers filthy words into your ears, but your mind doesn’t allow you to fully comprehend what he’s saying.

You’re so far gone and fucked out that Taehyung isn’t sure you’ll remember the amazing feeling you are experiencing - but you and he had eternity together.

Taehyung flips you so that you are on top of him, yet you have no control. You came three more times and Taehyung twice, yet the both of you were insatiable. You would be sore the following day, but it's alright. This is what you came for in the end - to be wrecked by him and him only.

Taehyung groans, fingernails digging into the skin of your hip. Your arms are wrapped around him as he drills inside of you. Your tears are stained to your cheeks - tears of pure joy and pleasure. He was going to cum again - inside of you like he had before. He ponders what you’d look like swollen with his child - round and healthy with enlarged breast to nurse his child.

Taehyung grunts. “So beautiful.” he compliments, sending a kiss onto your shoulder. “So beautiful and all mine.”

Your eyes widened when you managed to escape out of the small window. Your hands and knees are bleeding - having been scrapped against the broken glass. You run and run, never stopping. Your legs want to give out and your lungs ache for air, but you cannot stop now.

You’re unsure how long you’ve been gone for, trapped in the dark room by Taehyung.

Months?

Were people looking for you?

You hadn’t been outside since the day you arrived at your appointment - a day you regret greatly. You awoke bound to and blindfolded by Taehyung, him assuring he would unbind you as soon as he could trust you - and he never had. Each day you endured whatever the man wanted to give - your mind refusing to believe this was your reality.

You’re unsure how you managed to escape, but you don’t dwell on it. The freedom you feel now is overwhelming. You begin to cry, the tears blurring your vision.

Your feet reach a road and you finally manage to stop. You fall to your knees, heaving for any bit of air your lungs are willing to give you.

Lights shine on you and your hands lift to cover your eyes.

A car was coming.

A car.

You ran up to the first person you saw - a man inside his car whose tires screeched upon you jumping in front of it - and screamed how you were kidnapped and blindfolded.

The man's eyes are wide when he rolls down his window and says. “How did you get out, baby?”

Your eyes widen to match his in pure horror as you recognize the voice - the same one belonging to the kidnapper you escaped from.

Taehyung.

You shake your head, paralyzed with fear. This wasn't the man you met for your appointment, but you'd never forget that voice.

Your feet turn to run away, but you feel arms wrap around you. You're yanked off of your feet and into the large car. You scream for help - any help that you can find, but you aren't saved.

Taehyung enters the car and shakes his head. Your wrist are bleeding and he's sure you fought long and hard to get your hands out of the cuffs. "To think I was about to take the cuffs and the blindfold off for your good behavior." he tsks, locking the door and speeding down the road.

#bts yandere #bts smut #btswritingcafe #yandere bts #two sentence horror story #taehyung x reader #taehyung smut #taehyung yandere #bangtanwriters net #bangtanwritershq #bangtan smut #trivia-yandere #btsmasterlist2023 #bts fanfic #bts masterlist #bts imagines #jungkook smut #jungkook x reader #yandere jungkook

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gluion · 7 months ago

Text

satin ➵ park sungho

the pink ribbons that you and your daughter used to dress up sungho now used on you.

general genre/warnings ➵ smut, fluff!, soft but teasing dom!sungho, slight shibari with ribbons, pet names (baby, teasing use of daddy), foreplay, fingering, nipple play, impregnation, creampie (duh), aftercare, ends with the start of a second round

word count➵ 4.1k words

a/n➵ i wrote this the night before my flight and also during the two planes rides back. it was so serious it was killing me. this was originally a jacob fic but anon asked for a sungho ver!! so here you go! not my proudest work ofc becoz i think ive learned more abt writing smut so tune in for that!

The early hours of the day are ones you used to dread. The sun would barely be out, the idea of sitting through countless hours of lectures, the contemplation of your ongoing list of work, work, work, that needs to be done once you return from a tiresome day.

But now, it’s different; sunlight refracts through window panes, sounds of birds bounce off the walls, and the smell of freshly brewed coffee fills the air. The early hours of the day are ones you used to dread, but waking up has gotten easier—maybe because you have someone to wake up and go back home to.

“Daddy, one more!”

“Sweetheart, we’ll run out of ribbons for your hair! Don't you wanna show your friends your pretty, pink ribbons?”

Your eyes peel open to the sight of home—the loves of your life seated by the vanity, one helping the other get ready for school.

Well, sort of.

Your little devil continues to bubble as her nimble hands gather more satin strands while your husband, Sungho, continues to brush her hair.

The white sheets you snuggle your nose into still smell of Sungho: fresh laundry and baby powder.

“But daddy! Look at you.” Her finger points at the mirror, making his gaze land on the reflection. “You’re beautiful,” she coos, pronouncing the first half of the word like a name.

He chuckles at her compliment. “Thank you, sweetie. You’ve got a good eye for fashion.”

Sungho’s adorned with pink, satin ribbons. Every part of him that you can name probably has a ribbon tied on it; some were loose, almost as if they would fall if he were to move, but some were tight, too tight, for your liking. His skin spills from bands of satin and his muscles show off more when they’re restrained.

Maybe you needed to get out of bed.

As you sit up, the sheets rustle from the movement, causing your husband and daughter to look back at you.

Sungho’s eyebrows shoot up in shock. “Oh no, did we wake you up? I’m sorry.”

“Sorry!” Your daughter’s apology quickly follows his.

You shake your head, a smile resting on your lips as you get out of bed. As you walk towards them, your eyes catch sight of your freshly woken up state; the contrast between you and your husband and daughter has you giggling.

“God, I have a bird’s nest.”

“No! You have beautiful hair made for,” your daughter pulls out another blush strand, “ribbons!”

A pair of lips meet your cheek. “She’s right,” your husband mumbles into your skin. “You’re beautiful.”

As he parts away, you meet his gaze. He shoots you a lazy smile, one that reminds you of the times you wake up beside him, and your cheeks are dusted with rose-colored hues.

Warmth continues to spread throughout the room—not from the sun but from them.

You roll your eyes before you look at your daughter, your hand reaching out towards her. She hands you the torn-up satin and you smile. “Thank you.”

You look at the man beside you, still tied up in ribbons. Your free hand trails over where they rest—hair, forearms, waist to name a few.

(Though, you let your fingers play with the one around his waistline.)

“Where should I put this one, honey?”

Your daughter hums for a moment. Sungho shakes his head, not in disbelief that you’re playing into your daughter's shenanigans but more so that you're going to make her late for school. And it’ll be okay, you tell yourself, because he’s the one in charge of dropping her off today.

“What about the neck? Like a necklace!”

Your eyebrows shoot up at her suggestion, a playful smile now on your lips. “A good choice! I'm sure daddy will love it.” The pet name rolls off your tongue so well that it has a grunt leave Sungho. The annoyed expression flashes through his features like a blink, but he tries to cover it up with an innocent smile.

“C’mon, you'll be late if we keep doing this. Let me finish fixing your hair and then we can go to school.” He tries to take control of the situation but you won’t let him—not this time, at least.

“Nu–uh,” you disagree, moving so that you can stand right behind him. “You can do that while I put this necklace on you,” the satin piece meets his neck before you lean in to whisper into his ear, “right?”

The distance between you two—the heat of your chest against his back, your lips grazing against his ear—is enough for Sungho’s tongue to turn into cotton. It didn’t help that you were doing all of this right now, right when your daughter is here getting ready while he’s pressed for time, but he knows that it won't do any good to deny the request if you two, so he nods.

Your hands guide the ribbon to wrap around his neck, the ends meeting past his nape which gives you enough to tie it into a bow. Your fingers busy themselves trying to form a beautiful knot while Sungho focuses on brushing your daughter’s hair.

And when you tug on the satin, making it wrap tighter around his neck—pulling into his skin—he stills for a moment.

“Daddy?” Your daughter looks up.

“What’s wrong?” The question leaves your mouth, the playful tone that clings onto your words fails to make sense to her but has Sungho clenching his teeth.

“Nothing, sorry,” he quickly says with a smile to cover up his behavior. “Just got distracted.”

She’s oblivious to whatever is occurring between you two; you make the most out of the situation.

Thanks to the distance, it’s easy to hear his exhales—his sounds. His shoulders move along with them. Heavy. Deep. Desperate.

Your fingers brush against his skin, and it blooms in rose tints. When your eyes catch sight of him swallowing down nothing—everything—you can’t help but let mischief take over.

You finish tying the satin into a perfect bow. The expanse of his skin covered in rose-like hues, dolled-up just for you, is enough for warmth to spread all throughout your body.

You don’t get to see Sungho like this: all adorned with pink ribbons, restrained without being restrained to an object. It’s humorous; you’ve switched positions just this once thanks to your daughter’s shenanigans.

Your lips hover over where the bow rests, your breath grazing his skin, and it has his hair standing. Just one kiss—one bite—to complete the present, and then—

“And done!”

He jolts away while dragging your daughter along. Your gaze now lands back to your reflection, a pout now resting on your lips.

When you look at the two, a satisfied smile rests on your daughter's mouth while Sungho sports a relieved expression. “Go say bye now. We’ll be late.”

Due to your husband’s rushed words, your daughter quickly pecks your cheek, her teeth bumping against your skin. “Bye bye! I’ll see you later!” You smile at her before she rushes out of the room.

When your gaze leaves the door, it lands on Sungho who only looks at you with eyes filled with irritation, frustration, dominance. “Anyway, I’ll—”

His hands grip your waist, pulling you close to him and noses bumping against each other. His breath grazes your lips while you hold yours in.

“What was that?” The question is asked with such sweetness but you know he means the opposite.

“W—what do you mean?”

He groans into your ear. “Don’t play games with me, baby.”

There’s the Sungho you know.

Satisfaction paints his features; a smirk with eyes that flicker down occasionally to your lips. And when you feel his grip tighten around your waist, air is knocked out of your lungs. He leans forward, as if distance needs to be closed, but his lips never touch yours. “Baby, baby, baby,” he whispers with such care, and yet…

“You know what you did. Just say it.”

You know better. He’s giving you a chance to apologize—to repent—for what you did, but instead of settling for that, you lean forward, lips interlocking with his. His hand shimmies its way under your shirt, a thumb drawing circles on your hip bone, and warmth blossoms further.

You part away and lean your forehead against his. As your fingers dart towards the ribbon wrapped around his neck, fiddling with the ends of it, it takes every ounce of resolve to not tug on it.

“Well, you need to bring her to school,” you whisper words he doesn’t want to hear.

All he wants is an apology—an explanation—for your behavior this morning, but you don’t give in, so he rolls his eyes, a chuckle leaving him before he lets go of your waist. “I’ll see you later.”

You let your hand fall back to your side and shoot him a smile. “I look forward to it.”

Before you know it, he makes his way towards the door, still wrapped in pink satin. The thought of Sungho showing up in front of your daughter’s school adorned in bows has you giggling.

“I can hear you laughing!”

You roll your eyes. “Just go!”

You wonder what he’ll bring you after he’s done with the task at hand.

If you were expecting anything good, then you were absolutely wrong.

(Well, that’s a lie. You were hoping for something, but you weren’t expecting this.)

Whatever present you were looking forward to—food from your favorite cafe that’s only a 2-minute drive from your daughter’s school or an opportunity for you to finally do whatever you want unto Sungho—couldn’t prepare you for what’s happening now.

“You just couldn’t behave.” A pair of hands roam over your torso as teeth tug on the expanse of your neck, satin grazing your skin. You hold back your sounds, eyes fluttering close, until he digs in harder, wetter.

A mewl escapes you without a second thought. His lips leave your neck and his hands focus on tugging your oversized shirt off, leaving you only in a pair of night undies.

You’re greeted once more by the sight of Sungho wrapped in satin. Your gaze trails to where the ribbons rest, some threatening to fall off of him while others still making sure his skin—his muscles—spill out.

(And it didn’t help that the white t-shirt he wears clings to his torso, probably from its fitting or thanks to the ribbons.)

His hands rest on the space around you as his legs cage you down, restricting you from any movement like you did with him.

You’re lightheaded, maybe from lip locking, the position you’re in, or even from the sight of your husband. And with your heavy breaths, a smug grin takes over Sungho’s face. His hand tugs on the loose satin around his waist, allowing it to fall on your stomach.

“What if we play dress up?” He hums as he lets his lips trail from your jaw, to your shoulder, all the way to space between your tits. He looks up at you, and says, “Like how you did with me this morning.”

A grunt leaves you.

He grabs onto the ribbon. “Don’t you think it’s only fair that I have my time with you? My fun with you?”

When you shake your head, Sungho chuckles. “Sungho, c’mon—”

“Nu–uh,” he retaliates like how you did then. “Don’t try to weasel your way out of your punishment.”

He sits and chucks his head up, signaling you to lift your torso up. You follow his orders, and his hands dart around so that the strand wraps around your upper chest.

With his fingers busy tying a bow, your hand darts towards the ribbon wrapped around his forearm. Your fingertips fiddle with satin and his warm skin, and you both relish in your final moments of freedom.

“There we go.” Your eyes dart down to your chest, spotting a perfectly tied pink bow resting above your tits. And when his nails dig into your waist, a mewl escapes you as you arch your back.

Sungho loves it all; the ribbon that was once tied around his waist now tied right above your tits, the sounds that leave you from the different sensations of satin and his hands brushing your skin, and your hazy eyes that meet his wide ones.

He litters you with kisses, from your cheeks, neck, and chest. “You’re so pretty for me,” he mumbles in between. Once his lips hover over yours, noses grazing against each other, he whispers, “I just want to devour you.”

You catch his lips, arms wrapping around his neck as you pull him close. He moves one knee in between your legs, letting you grind your clothed slit against his thigh, as his hands find themselves on your tits. The warmth of his fingertips flicking against your nipples has them pebbling and you moan his ministrations.

He parts away. As you attempt to control your breathing, you watch him reach for the ribbon that rests on his shoulder and tug it undone. Its length is longer in comparison to the one that rests on your chest; perhaps your daughter may have overestimated how much she needed to tie around Sungho’s shoulder.

And before you know it, he grabs hold of your wrists and lets the strand circle around them. “Too tight?” He asks once he ties a knot around them.

You shake your head. “Just right.”

He smiles at you. “Good. Now,” his hands find their way on the band of your underwear, “let me taste you.”

He tugs it down, exposing you to him. The contrast between you two—nude and fully clothed—makes your head spin.

“Sungho, please.”

He hums. “‘Please’ what, darling?”

“Remove your clothes.”

“Making demands?” He clicks his tongue. “I’ll see about that.” He spends his time undoing the ribbon that’s wrapped around his arm. “Plus, I enjoy you like this, just physically unable to fulfill your desires.”

A groan rips out of your throat.

You hate Sungho.

His hands brush against your upper thigh, tying another ribbon around you. Once he finishes, his hand lingers, teasing you with the short distance between him and your slit. You’re about to curse at him, yell out profanities, until you watch his face get closer to your pussy.

He breathes you in and a groan rips out. “God, you smell delicious.”

Before you know it, his tongue darts towards your slit, drinking up your juices. A moan leaves you, your back arching at how he eats you out. And when his nose nudges against your clit, your mewls get louder, uncontrollable.

Your head is spinning from how Sungho plays with your five senses; satin strands wrapped around you, his tongue touching you in places you longed for him to graze against, the squelching noise that comes from him eating you out has your head spinning. The lack of power—control—turns you on even more.

As you attempt to look down, you’re greeted by his eyes on you, and the eye contact knocks the air out of your lungs. When his hand reaches to the bow that rests on your thigh, fingers playing with pink satin, you throw your head back.

Your lower half finds itself moving on its own, lifting itself from the mattress as it attempts to chase the pleasure, but Sungho rests his forearm on your stomach, holding you down, and continues to eat you out to his liking. Still, you try to move under the restraints; it’s reflexive, out of control.

His mouth leaves your slit, a whine leaving you. “Baby, if you keep that up, you won’t get what you want in the end.”

You try to control your breathing, bringing your satin-tied wrists close to your face.

He finally strips off his shirt. You’re lightheaded when you look at him, top naked with one singular satin ribbon left—the one you tied around his neck.

He reaches for the button of his pants. “You’ve been such a treat for me, let me reward you.” His pants and underwear are down, revealing his hardened length that leaks pre-cum.

He moves your restrained wrists away and reaches for your lips with his; the taste of you still lingers on him. As he sucks on your bottom lip, a whine leaves you.

He moves away so that you can catch your breath—or so you thought.

Before you can control your heartbeat, you feel a finger prod its way into your pussy, having you clench over the digit. Your eyes roll back as you moan, and he curls his finger, hitting your walls.

“God, look at you. Such a moaning mess over one finger.” You do your best to look at Sungho, seeing him tonguing the inside of his cheek as he keeps his eyes on your face. It has warmth rise to your cheeks. “I wonder how you’ll take my cock. It’s been a while, after all.”

Before you know it, another finger enters you. Your eyes are wide, your bottom half filled with pleasure. And when his thumb plays with your nub, you don’t know if you’ll be ready for his cock after all.

You thrash in bed, overwhelmed by pleasure, and Sungho only watches. The sight of you struggling to do anything while he holds you down, through satin or his hands, causes more precum to leak.

“S-Sungho, I don’t—”

“No, baby, you will. You’ll hold out until you get on my cock.” It’s a demand, and you don’t know if you’ll be able to fulfill it, but you try.

That is until his finger curls hits one spot; all resolve is broken. As he notices your expression shift, he smirks and continues his ministrations. A series of moans escapes you as he continues to hit your g-spot.

You swear you feel the band about to snap, and you consider telling Sungho that you’re about to come. But for selfish reasons, you don’t want to; all you want is to finally come.

You’re close, short rapid breaths escape you as you clench tighter around his digits, until his fingers leave you.

“Fuck!” You complain only to be met with Sungho’s chuckle. “I was so close! Are you kidding me?”

He clicks his tongue. “Didn’t I tell you to hold out?” He moves close to you, his cock lining up to your pussy. “You were going to disobey me if I kept going.”

You roll your eyes, biting the inside of your cheek. You’re irritated from being left high and dry.

“Fuck you—”

His cock enters you without warning, cutting you off and causing a moan to rip out of you. He goes at a steady speed, building the pleasure up.

“You’re still tight even after that?” It’s a rhetorical question, but you only answer in a series of moans. He chuckles. “My baby can’t even answer me properly this early on and we’ve only started.”

Before you know it, his cock leaves you, causing you to whine. You were going to complain, but he flips you so that you rest on your knees and elbows.

Without a warning, he enters once more which has a moan rip out of you. He goes at the same pace but he feels deeper, hitting crevices that your fingers could never reach.

As Sungho continues to fuck you, you try to look back at him, and you watch how his eyebrows scrunch as he watches his cock enter you. Your eyes catch sight of the pink satin that clings to his skin and you cannot help but clench around his cock, making him moan along with you.

He finally notices your eyes on him, and he tongues the inside of his cheek. Then, he leans forward, face-to-face with you as his chest is pressed against your back.

“Baby.” he smiles at you—not a smug one but one filled with adoration. And yet…

“Should we try for another?” The air is knocked out of your lungs. His smile turns sinister as he feels you grow wetter at the thought. “Wouldn’t you love that? Another baby? Another opportunity to be filled to the brim?”

As he starts to pick up the pace, you can’t hold back your moans. “God, you just want to be filled with my cum, don’t you? Wouldn’t you love that? Just us trying again, again, again, for another baby, me filling you with cum.”

He watches your breathing get heavy over the idea; to be filled with Sungho’s cum for days, weeks, months, years as if it were your only job or purpose in life.

You feel it coming; the rubber band is about to snap at any moment.

“Fuck, I’m close—”

“Come for me. Do it, baby,” he chants such words. “I’m going to come. Going to fill you up, going to impregnate you,” he growls as he keeps going at such a fast pace. “And we’ll keep going baby, going to make sure you’re filled with so much cum that I’ll have to plug my fingers to keep it in.”

Your pants get heavier as you try to meet his thrusts. You’re so close but you don’t know what you need. You’re too light headed to think of what to do until you feel fingertips draw circles on your clit. Your moans get louder. Uncontainable.

You rip your gaze away from him, overwhelmed by the pleasure, and it lands on your satin-tied wrists. “Come for me, baby. Let me impregnate you,” he whispers into your ear.

The rubber band snaps. You clench around his cock as you come as a long moan leaves you, and Sungho can’t help but fill you with his cum.

It doesn’t stop. He keeps thrusting, riding out his high to ensure that you’re filled with enough.

Once he stills, you find yourself collapsing down to the bed. You attempt to control your breathing, eyes shut from what just occurred.

“Baby, let me flip you. I need to remove the ribbons,” Sungho says with care.

You only hum. His cock leaves you, causing you to hiss as you’re still sensitive. His hands find themselves on your waist, flipping you so that you face him, and he undoes the ribbon wrapped around your wrists. He then takes the opportunity to examine your wrists.

“Does it hurt?”

You shake your head, smiling at your husband. “I’m okay.” You still see the pink satin wrapped around his neck. “That was good.”

He chuckles before pecking your lips. He takes in the sight of you in your fucked-out state dressed in pink ribbons that were once wrapped around him and his heart grows warm.

As his eyes trail down to your slit, he gasps. “Oh no, it’s leaking.” His fingers scoop his cum that leaks out of your pussy and shoves it back in, another hiss leaving you. “We don’t want to waste any cum.”

A giggle leaves you. You wrap your arms around his neck, bringing him in for another kiss. “I love you.” Your fingers graze against the ribbon that still rests around his neck. “I’m glad you kept this on.”

He hums. “I mean, I knew it turned you on, so I played into it. I understand though. After seeing you tied up, maybe I need to learn shibari.”

You gulp at his words and he notices. A smirk lies on his lips. “Of course, I should’ve known. How come I never knew about this?”

You shrug. “I don’t know—well, I do know. I think I was just too shy to bring it up.”

“Baby,” he starts off, giving you another kiss, “there’s no need to be shy around me. I would love to know everything about you, even what gives you the most pleasure. What else do you like?”

You chew on your cheek. “Well, I really want to do shibari on you.”

“Deal.”

“I know you might not—wait, really?”

His lips press against your cheek. “I’m willing to try it out.” You cannot help yourself but smile. “So, now?”

Your eyebrows shoot up. “Sungho, you just gave me the most earth-shattering orgasm of my life, and your fingers are still in me. I don’t know if I can go another round.”

“You sure?” he smirks before letting his lips trail to your neck. “Just a little foreplay can change that.” He starts to suck on your skin, and you cannot help but let a moan slip. And when his fingers start to move, your eyes roll back.

God, you need to buy more ribbons for your daughter.

(And for you and Sungho, of course.)

taglist: @onedoornet @kflixnet

#works of moni #onedoornet #kflixnet #k-labels #park sungho #boynextdoor #boynextdoor imagines #park sungho x reader #boynextdoor x reader #park sungho imagines #park sungho fluff #sungho boynextdoor #boynextdoor smut

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raz-writes-the-thing · 1 year ago

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Unplanned Surprise (Doctor Who Drabble)

Eleventh Doctor x GN!Reader / requests are open

Summary: You have an unplanned surprise to tell the Doctor about.

CW: reader is GN but is pregnant, so the afab body is specified

DW: @nyxiethesimp @quickslvxrr @midnight--raine @blueberry-sunshines @stevekempscocktails @go-bonkers-go-foolish @peytonpenguin37 @yeethaw13 @complimentary-breadbasket (send an ask to be added to a tag list!)

“I’m pregnant,” you said, taking the bullet head-on and finally confessing to the Doctor the thing that had been plaguing you for quite some time. Well, only a few weeks- but it felt like a very long time.

You weren’t really sure what to expect from him, given that he was reasonably prone to unpredictability. Would he scream for joy? Would he cry? Would he send you away and never want to see you again? For once, the endless possibilities did not fill you with intrigue or confidence.

“Pregnant?” The Doctor repeated dumbly, wriggling his fingers thoughtfully. “How did that happen?”

His tone wasn’t upset, angry or joyous. It was just casual. He was being casual about this. Maybe it hadn’t quite sunk in yet? You blinked at him as the question actually registered.

“H-how did that happen? Doctor, you know exactly how that happened,” you blustered, mouth agape.

“Well, yes, conceptually, I know how you humans pro-create and conceive,” he broke off for a second, trying to think of the word. “Babies. But you and me?” The Doctor gestured between the both of you a little too aggressively. “Not the same species, remember? My ejaculate should not be able to impregnate you.”

You were lost for words, blinking confusedly. You supposed that made sense, but then again, the three tests you’d done had all said you were pregnant, so it looked like there was a first time for everything.

“Should have tested that theory a little better before engaging in your breeding kink then, hey,” you replied, picking at your nails. The Doctor practically choked on his tongue, pressing a hand to his chest in mock offence.

“Excuse you, Petal,” he argued, “but I am quite certain that you enjoy being bred full of my cum- do you not?”

You split into a cocky grin, knowing he was absolutely right.

“That may be so, but the point remains that I am pregnant, and it’s definitely yours, Doctor.”

The Doctor opened and closed his mouth a couple of times. You could practically see the gears turning in his head as he processed that information. Then, he closed his mouth and split into the widest, most pleased grin you had ever seen from him.

“You’re pregnant,” he all but shouted, hands outstretched in shock. He ran one hand through his hair. ‘You’re pregnant!” He shouted again, this time ending with a disbelieving giggle.

“I am,” you confirmed, the Doctor’s grin infectious.

You both let out a nervous laugh and then the Doctor had you scooped up into his arms and twirled you around. You laughed louder, holding onto him as he lifted you up and back down again.

The Doctor slowed before wrapping you up in a tight hug as if to hold you close and never let you go. You breathed out, feeling content.

Life was looking good. You were going to be parents. To a baby- a hybrid half-human-half-Time Lord baby but still!

“Parents,” the Doctor whispered, pressing a kiss to your forehead and echoing your thoughts. “Almost unbelievable, isn’t it?”

You hummed, listening to both of his hearts beat in his chest. They were beating fast, telling you exactly how ecstatic the Doctor was about this news.

“Completely insane,” you agreed with a soft nod. “I can’t wait.”

#doctor who #eleventh doctor #eleventh doctor x reader #11th doctor x reader #doctor who x reader #x reader #doctor who imagine #eleventh doctor imagine #doctor who drabble #matt smith #doctor who fanfic #doctor who fic #doctor who fanfiction #eleventh doctor x you #eleventh doctor x y/n #matt smith doctor #ms doctor #geronimo

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robilover · 4 months ago

Note

Transfem!Robin x female!Reader NSFW?

I feel like she’d be so good at both edging and aftercare 🥺

Transfem!Robin NSFW Headcanons !

pairing(s): robin x fem!reader

cw: nsfw, [very] consensual sex, edging, dumbification, praising, use of protection, slight breeding kink, men and homophobes dni.

a/n: nghtngn to be penetrated by robin😍😍

+a/n: this took SO LONG, I’M SO SORRY!! this was so rushed too, I hope this is okay💔

nsfw under the cut, read at your own risk!

honestly, robin wouldn’t mind being the top or the bottom. she just wants you to have the best orgasm of your life.

always uses protection!! she doesn’t want to accidentally impregnate you if you didn’t want to have children (yet).

but the thought of filling you with her cum would make her mind go haywire, to the point that she’d lean down to your ear and whisper how much she wanted to fill you up, even though she was using protection. that’s for next time— in the future <3

consent is sexy. she would never do anything without asking you first. for her, your pleasure comes first <33

always asks if she’s doing good. she wants to be praised; the same way she praises you for taking her so well. for being her good girl.

she loves it when you babble incoherent words while she moves in and out of you, it spurs her on so much that she is the sole reason why you’re so desperate for her, all dumb for her.

robin definitely has a thing for edging you, especially if you’re riding her. the desperate look on your face, begging her to let you cum was just so adorable for her. you can hold it in, right? you can take it, she knows you can. you’re her good little girl, her dumb little baby who just needs to be fucked dumb by her.

also, even when she goes rough, she tells you to say the safe word if it’s too much. your safe word is feather! (you hardly ever say that btw)

YES, THE QUEEN OF AFTERCARE!! she is absolutelyyy gentle and loving after she ravishes you. cuddles, whispering sweet nothings into your ear, baths, massages; she’d even dress you up herself, in her clothes. her pleasure? no need to worry, she’s pleased enough to see you being a moaning mess under her. don’t worry, she came a few times, but not as much as you did. <33

#honkai star rail #hsr robin x reader #hsr #honkai star rail x reader #x reader #hsr robin #wlw #robin honkai star rail #smut #honkai star rail smut #hsr robin smut #hsr robin x fem reader #hsr robin x you #hsr robin x reader smut #robin hsr

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harmslength · 10 months ago

Text

Milk and Honey —

Paring | Neil Lewis x Reader

Word Count | 4.9K

Summary | Being a mother is no easy task. After a long day of muscle pains, sleep deprivation and overall exhaustion—your adoring husband comes home to help.

TLDR - Post pregnancy hormones, pent up sexual frustration and— oh dear god milk?!

Info | SMUT (18+ only), unprotected sex (p in v), established relationship, breeding kink, lactation kink, mommy and daddy kink, impregnation, pregnancy body mentioned, milk sipping and titty sucking (hell yeah)

Notes | posting this now or I genuinely never will. Not my proudest work but here we are. I’m also incredibly aware that I am subjecting y’all to my own weird kinks…Don’t worry! It will only get worse from here :)

You laid in a ball on top of your bed. Freshly washed linens and clothes circling you like vultures.

You were exhausted, sleep deprived and you ached all over. Every movement made your muscles tense and your migraine grow.

It’s been three months since you had given birth to your little bundle of joy. Right about now though, your child was a lot more like a bundle of terror.

The baby rarely ever slept, too hungry to sleep and too stubborn to latch. It’s not the babys fault though, you knew that. It’s just—well, it’s fucking hard work.

——

You tried your best to wait up for your husband, you truly did. But your eyes grew heavy and your body aches slowly melted into a soft tingle as you fell into a much needed slumber.

You were awoken by the sound of your bedroom door closing. Groaning at the sudden intrusion of your dreams, you rolled over to look at your intruder.

“You’re home.” You mumbled to him groggily. Neil quickly slipped off his shoes and climbed into bed next to you, pushing off the clothes and freshly folded linen off the bed in the process.

You groaned and reached out for it, a heavy complaint ready to be expelled. But Neil just grabbed your hand and brought it to his lips and kissed it, shushing you with the promise of the laundry being cleaned up later.

“The baby asleep?” He asked while he buried his face in between your shoulder and neck. You felt him take a deep inhale as his fingers trailed down your sore body.

“Mhmm,” you hummed, relaxing at the touch of your loving husband.

“Good.” He smiled and placed a gentle kiss to your neck. You craned your head slightly and welcomed it.

Neil’s soft hands traced the peek of skin that was exposed below your shirt. Lines of stretch marks covered your stomach, but he didn’t mind. He never did, he loved every part of you.

“Thank you for taking care of the baby,” Neil placed kisses along your collarbones.

“I’m so lucky to have you.” Fingers trailed up your shirt to the soft and supple mounds that were your breasts.

You didn’t even realize it, but milk had soaked through the thin layer of your shirt; dripping down and making it sticky against your skin.

“So lucky to have you,” he echoed, his hands slightly trembling, his fresh hard on pressing into your thigh.

You loved the attention Neil gave you, but with how sore your body was from recovering, the constant care of your baby and the ever-growing pressure from the milk trapped in your breasts; you were almost at your breaking point.

“Neil— baby, not tonight.” You protested and gently pushed him away. Neil clung on though, his desire for you borderline insatiable.

“What’s wrong, is Mommy not feeling well?” He cooed into your ear, making you tingle all over.

He had started calling you that—mommy—right after you both found out that you were pregnant. It was sweet for the most part. Mostly coming off as innocent, but when he said it like that—

His fingers tweaked at your sore nipples, always hard and leaking these days. You winced slightly, clenching your teeth and letting out a soft hiss.

“Come on, use your words Mommy.” He teased, making your lower half grow slightly hot as you attempted to fight off his advances.

“I’m so exhausted, my body—“ He interrupted you with the slide of one his hands ghosting past your navel and onto the radiating heat between your legs.

“Mhmm, keep going.” He urged you to continue.

You were slowly getting overwhelmed, your shirt dampening more and more, your arousal slowly building, slowing making its way up a steady hill as it always did.

“My body is overworked, Neil. I-I love staying home and caring for the baby, but with the feeding and the—“ His hand slipped between your thighs, cupping your mound.

“—changing and never sleeping, it’s been so tough.. I’m just so overwhelmed.” You breathed out, little tears of frustration stinging your eyes. You took a deep, long breath in and exhaled.

Neil understood, or at least made sure that you knew he listened to your every word. He was always attentive and kind with you but something about carrying his child for nine months really pushed him into overdrive.

During the pregnancy you had made a habit— or well the baby had made a habit of craving weird foods at the oddest hours. Neil spent plenty of nights standing in 7/11’s at 3 in the morning, or mixing all kinds of weird concoctions that you asked for.

Pickles and ice cream, a Banquets Salisbury Steak dinner, a whole raw onion— you could go on and on.

Massages and bubble baths became a nightly routine for you as well—as Neil insisted. Even closing up the store earlier so he’d have time to cook you dinner.

You thought about these moments as Neil coddled you close to him. Even with all these wonderful things he’s done, there was never an expectation for repayment or a favor due. You simply being his wife, the mother of his child was more than enough.

Neil pushed back the strands of hair that clung to your forehead, you just knew you looked like a mess.

“Hey, hey, it’s okay.” He consoled you as the tears started to build up, you were exhausted and your pregnancy hormones haven’t exactly worn off yet apparently.

“I know it’s been really hard on you since I’ve been back at the store, but you have been doing such an amazing job.” Neil said softly, running his thumbs over your damp cheeks and kissing the top of your head. He wrapped you close to his chest; the damp patch on your shirt now soaking into his.

He cupped your chin in his hand and tilted your head up to look at him.

“You’re the best wife anyone could ask for.” He said earnestly, his gaze passionate and affirming. He always told you this and it never got old. Butterflies would swoon in your chest at the sound of him calling you his wife. It felt like most days you were lucky just to have him.

“But you’re right, this isn’t a job for one person..” He shifted and pulled himself closer to you so you were both eye level.

“Let me take off just a few more weeks, so you can get a break.” He tried reasoning with you but you were having none of it.

“Neil you can’t, you’ve already taken off more time than you should. John and Lucien need you, the store needs you.” You objected. This wasn’t the first time you’ve both have had this conversation.

“They’ll be fine,” he insisted. “Plus I miss you and the baby so much, every minute I’m counting down till I can see you guys next.”

Neil’s words made your heart grow fonder but the answer was still no.

“Neil—“ you protested and finally he caved.

“Okay, okay well at least let my mom come and help, she loves you guys so much and I know she wouldn’t mind.” He offered.

“Are you sure…? I really don’t want to bother her-“

“I’m positive. I can call her tomorrow.” He assured and you pondered over it for a minute. It was a no brainer really, so you agreed.

“Okay..” you relented, nodding your head while he held it in his hands.

“Yeah? Okay.” he nodded with a big goofy smile on his face. He placed a passionate kiss to your lips before peppering your face with little pecks. You laughed, already your dampened mood brightening. He always knew how to cheer you up.

Carefully, he placed himself between your legs, pushing himself up so he was leaning over you. One of his hands traced your hip as he stared down into your eyes.

Your hair had been pulled back into a bun except for the few stray pieces, you had slight bags under your eyes and now even more the milk stain was obvious.

“You poor thing..” He purred, as he took you in.

“Overworking your body to take care of my child..” He brought his hand up to trace your cheek lightly.

“I think it’s time you let daddy take care of you.” He whispered against your ear, making the room grow steadily hotter and hotter.

You looked into his eyes, basically swimming in them as his pupils grew wider with each passing second. He was ready to dive in, to pamper and devour all in one.

Before you could say anything, his hands crawled up your wasted shirt and cupped your enlarged breasts. Every chance he could he’d have his hands on them. Rubbing, groping, licking, pinching—all of the above. It was only lately where you couldn’t stand them being played with and it was driving Neil insane.

You winced and grabbed his wrist, urging him to stop.

“They’re sore.. please.” You begged and Neil leaned down to place another kiss to your hand.

“I’ll be gentle.” Neil assured and went back to what he was doing. He slid the shirt over your head, lifting your arms and slipping it past your head and shoulders.

His hands gently wound their way around your tits, pushing them together and watching as the milk dribbled out, just a little, just enough for a taste.

“Neil—“ you whispered in distress and he shushed you lightly. He craned his head and scooted down so his hard on was pressing up against your heat.

“They’re so full.” He admired, his eyes taking mental shots at the sight of them. He had been touched starved for the past three months, his body basically itching to be close to you.

Since giving birth you’ve both been either too exhausted to be intimate or too busy. Any other chance he could though, he was rubbing himself against you or fondling you. Each time being met with a giggle and swatting him away, or him finishing in his pants while you laid there and encouraged him.

He couldn’t help it though, when it came to you he was a depraved man. Never getting enough of you—truly insatiable.

You watched him as he slowly licked the circumference of your nipple, lapping up the droplets of milk like he was dehydrated. You gasped seeing him relish in the taste and latch his mouth to the bud.

It started slow, his mouth kitten licking and prodding, never using his teeth no matter how badly he wanted to nip at you.

Soon though his focus was completely centered around your tits. His eyes fluttered shut and soft moans escaped his lips, vibrating around it.

It still hurt of course, and not necessarily in a good way. It was painful for him to even touch them but you enjoyed seeing him like this so much that you fought through it. You carded your fingers through his hair and tugged lightly, knowing he loved when you did that.

That elicited a whimper from him as his eyes snapped open and softened when he met your gaze. Your pupils equally the size of saucers as you stared down at this wonderful sight in front of you.

Neil’s lips latched tighter and gently he started to suck, keeping his eyes on you the entire time as you gasped at the feeling—the pull.

He brought both hands to your breasts as his hips ground into your clothed heat. He had one focus now, and it was drinking every last drop of you till you were spent.

“Fuck, Neil,” you whined, finding all of this oddly pleasurable. This was most definitely new, sure he had sucked on your nipples before but he’s never drank from them.

You watched his eyes roll to the back of his head, his breathing labored, body hungry for more. You watched a droplet of milk spill from the corner of his mouth, his throat swallowing, basically gulping down as much as he possibly could.

He pulled off just enough to take a breath, and move to the next one. The one hand that wasn’t being occupied holding your tits in place, slithered down and slipped past your pants and panties, finding a goldmine of wetness waiting for him.

Neil moaned and looked up at you to watch your reaction as he brought two digits to your clit. Moving in slow, diligent circles and making you squirm as you pressed your body up into his fingers. It’s been a long three months for the both of you.

“Does that feel good, mommy? Do you like when I touch you like this?” He teased, making you bite down hard on your bottom lip to stop yourself from whimpering.

“Y-Yes.” You choked out, slowly losing your mind to his aggressive touches.

Neil licked at his milky lips, savoring the taste before he pressed them to yours, forcing you to taste your own creation.

His tongue tasted sweet, like cantaloupe juice, and you wondered if that’s what it really tasted like. Neil pulled back and smirked at you, his fingers still working you into a frenzy.

“Tastes good right? Tastes so fucking good.” He moaned and finally couldn’t take it anymore. Without even consoling you, he yanked at the hem of your pants and underwear, shoving them down your thighs and passed your ankles.

You clung to yourself now, not entirely used to your post pregnancy body being put on display. Neither of you has made love quite like this in a while.

“Fuck baby,” the words slipped right off his tongue like melted butter. He pried your arms back and hungrily kissed at your chest, slowly making his way down.

His movements were quick and passionate, diving into your body like a sweet dessert. He kissed down your stomach, leaving a trail of spit behind, stopping close to your abdomen and just loving the feeling of your bush rubbing against his chin.

“You just taste so good— I can’t help myself.” He mouthed at your supple skin. His hands still trailing behind him, groping and fondling at every inch of your skin.

“I needed this. I needed this so bad baby, you have no idea.” He whined and his lips trailed over your inner thighs. He wanted to take his time with you, to make you feel good, and he would even as his own erection was pressing harshly against his jeans.

He latched his mouth to your dripping cunt, the warm, wet heat calling out to him, begging to be licked clean.

He did just that, filling the room with lewd slurping sounds as a mix of your moans blended together perfectly. You almost forgot about the sleeping baby in the other room.

“Neil, the baby is sleeping, w-we have to be quiet.” You warned in between a gasp, his mouth mercilessly working you into a mind-bending orgasm.

He sucked especially hard and pulled off, making you clutch the sheets for dear life.

“Yeah?” He whispered to you, his voice low and raspy. Even in the dimming light of the room, as the sun started to settle; you could see him. His lips and chin were slick with your juices. It was like a scene straight out of a porno—a good porno, of course.

You nodded at him and swallowed hard, he wasn’t asking for clarification, he was challenging you.

“Well then we better be quiet, right?” He teased and you nodded again.

His hand gripped your breast and tweaked the nipple, little teardrops of milk spilling out onto his fingers. You winced slightly at the manhandling but let him continue.

“Here, try some.” He said, collecting some of it and shoving his fingers into your mouth. Just when you started to suck them clean, he slipped two fingers inside of you making you arch your back and moan loudly around his digits.

“That’s right, Mommy can take it. Mommy can take it real good.” He praised you and moved both sets of fingers in sync. You clenched around him hard when his thumb swiped up at your already aroused clit. Slow and steady at first but picking up speed quickly.

You mouthed obscenities around him as he continued finger fucking you and he just took it all in. Biting his bottom lip, he was at the precipice of his own desire. The fact that he could do this to you, the fact that he could drive you crazy like this.. it was his only purpose.

Neil became uncomfortably aware of how much clothes he had on shortly after and pulled away just long enough to slip himself free of his confines. You laid there, trying to catch your breath and trying to stop your legs from shaking.

You watched him flip back the buckle of his belt and yank down his trousers and underwear in one swift move.

You stared at his erection, making mental note that the tip was slick with precum, it made your cunt ache more than it’s ever before.

You reached for him in desperation and he met you halfway. Neil pulled himself on top of you and feverishly ground himself against you.

Slipping his cock between your folds, right against your clit and using your own arousal as his lubrication. He bucked into you, a deep growl escaping his lips with each thrust upward.

“I haven’t stopped thinking about this all week..” He confessed with his eyes closed.

“Every time I watch you put the dishes away or bend over to pick something up—“ he slid his cock roughly against your clit once again.

“—all I could think about was fucking you right then and there.” you mewled at his confession though you already knew he wanted to.

“I just want to fuck you over every countertop, rip your fucking clothes off of you and fill that pretty pussy of yours.” This desperate act of him humping against you was pushing you close to the edge, as pathetic as it was to admit. Again, it’s been a long three months.

“Can you imagine that? Us having another baby, your belly all big again—and god those milky tits getting bigger than ever.” He fondled at your breasts, making more warm milk leak from them.

His depraved words only brought both of you closer to the edge. You knew he wouldn’t finish this way, he liked it inside.

You moaned and arched your back with each drag of his cock down your sensitive bud, each movement only producing more and more lubrication.

Your fingers made lines of red down his back as you clawed. Each heave of your chests making the room grow stuffier and stuffier.

“Can you imagine that baby? Tell me how badly you want it.” Neil urged, his hips slowing down, adding more pressure every time he moved towards you.

“Y-Yes..” you said weakly. You were completely loss for words, you had no idea he was so into that. “I can—I can imagine that.” You croaked, which only made a wicked smirk form on his face.

“Just look you, poor thing hasn’t been properly fucked in months. Hasn’t had Daddy’s cock to come all over.” His words basically made your eyes roll to the back of your head. His never-ending teasing making your pussy twitch and physically yearn for him.

Neil felt it, oh he felt it alright and it only drove him more mad. “Ooh you like that don’t you? Why don’t you come like this. Come on, come for me.”

You went to object, opening your mouth to beg him not to make you come like this; like you were some horny teenager rubbing herself off on her pillow, it felt dirty and depraved—which you were by all means— but you wanted more, you wanted to feel him.

Neil stopped you, “No whining, just do it.” He insisted and you could barely contain the high pitched whimper that left your lips as your cavern squeezed around itself, desperate for something to latch onto as wave after wave hit your body over and over again.

You threw your head back and about halfway through your orgasm you remembered the importance of staying quiet.

Neil kept on rubbing his perpetually leaking cock up and down your clit till your thighs twitched and you became desperate to get away.

Now that your opening was slick and so beyond ready, he slowly slid in. Inch by inch, he filled your sensitive cunt. He relished in the feeling, the grip tight and still fluttering from your orgasm.

“Neil!” You gasped, not expecting the burn from the stretch that met you. It hurt, which was to be expected but this felt different compared to what you were used to. It felt like he was tunneling a hole into you. Splitting you but also igniting you in the best way possible.

“Fuuuck…” he drawled out, his eyes fluttering shut as he rocked himself slowly in and out, over and over again.

Neil knelt over you, his elbows slotted on each side of your head. He leaned in so his lips were just grazing yours, his tongue slipping out to swipe at your parted lips.

“Fuck, I’ve missed this—you have no idea how much I’ve missed this.” He said, emphasizing his words with deeper thrusts. “How much I missed you.”

You felt your ears grow hot as your arousal bubbled up again. It was a heat that was so indescribable and so delicious it made your mouth water. You nodded, your chest rising and falling, labored breaths leaving you.

Neil fell into a slow and brutal pace. You could feel every inch of him, every curve and vein as he fucked you into oblivion. The speed only made your head spin and you found yourself digging lines down his back once more.

“Oh my god, baby. You know how I love it when you do that.” He moaned for you, slotting his head in between your shoulder.

Each word made you wetter and wetter. Soon enough the whole room was filled with soft squelching noises. It only seemed to spur Neil on because in seconds he pulled back, sitting back on his knees and gripped your hips for support as he looked down at you.

“I could come right now.” He said, his glazed eyes roaming over your body. He watched the way his thrusts made your breasts move, watching them jiggle as little droplets dribbled down the curve of them and onto the sheets.

“I could fill you up so good, have you walking around the rest of the day with my come leaking out of you… but I can’t.” He resigned with a sigh and angled his hips slightly upwards before slamming into you full force.

The wind was knocked out of you instantly. Gasping and trying desperately to ground yourself you clawed at the sheets, inevitably pulling them loose from the tucked corners of the bed.

He was fucking you so hard you could hear the loose screw in the frame rattling with each thrust inward.

“Neil please!” You begged but you weren’t even sure for what. For him to slow down? For him to stop? Oh no, no, no—that just wouldn’t do.

“I can’t baby, not when I need to feel you come all over me. Need to see that pretty little face as I—“ He gripped at your cheeks for emphasis, making your jaw hang open and your lips pouty. He leaned over just enough to spit into your gaping mouth and moved your jaw closed so you would swallow it.

“—fuck you into this mattress.” He finished. You felt your chest tighten, all the muscles in your thighs and stomach seizing for a moment as another wave of ecstasy hit you.

His filthy words filled your ears like angels singing and you nodded along, your body already climbing to your next orgasm.

You would do anything he said in this moment as long as he kept doing what he was doing. If he wanted another baby—fine. If he wanted you to scale the Empire State Building—that’s fine too.

You felt pressure building up, like weights were being placed against the bundle of nerves inside of you. You knew you could come like this if he kept up his brutal pace but you needed more and well—Neil had no problem delivering.

He moved your legs so they now rested against his shoulders and leaned forward. He went impossibly deep and both of you let out an animalistic moan.

He sped up quick, sounds of his thighs slapping against yours echoing off the walls. He reached for your hand that was bunched in the messy sheets and placed it between your thighs.

“Touch yourself for me.” He ordered and you didn’t hesitate.

You brought two fingers down and started rubbing in rhythmic circles making the deepest parts inside your pussy start to twitch. Neil’s eyes rolled to the back of his head, his mouth hanging open as you watched him tremble at the feeling of you—at the sight of you.

You were so clearly everything to him, and having you like this—your knees to your chest, split open and fucking writhing underneath him.. He’d call it heaven—scratch that—better than heaven.

“I-I’m close.” You choked out, your voice growing higher in pitch as he continued pounding his cock deeper and deeper into you.

Neil’s eyes returned to you, meeting your lust filled gaze before latching his lips down onto your nipple and starting to suck again.

It felt like he was dragging every ounce of energy out of you. Purely sucking the soul out of you.

You brought your free hand up to his hair, latching on and gripping so hard onto his locks you thought you’d rip them out.

“Neil, Neil, neil…” You chanted his name. The bed shook with you both, squeaks and rattling, the sound of flesh meeting flesh. It was too good. Too raw. And there was little to no care in keeping quiet anymore.

“Yeah baby, keep saying my name. Let everyone know who fucks you this good.” Neil purred, removing himself long enough from your tits to speak and then immediately returning back to suck them dry.

“Fuck!” You gasped one last time as you clamped down on him. Everything tensed for a long minute and you swore you blacked out. A soft ringing filled your ears, toes curling beside his ear, thighs trembling.

Neil moaned loudly, his mouth full and vibrating around your sore and hardened nipples. There was pain and pleasure mixing like a lethal cocktail, making you spill all around him.

The base of his cock grew sticky and the wet sounds only amplified. His thrusts grew erratic but never lost their strength.

You watched Neil detach from your nipple long enough to see the milky liquid stain his lips. He gaped at you, mouth hanging open and breathing heavy. Hunger. Deep and vicious in his eyes.

“Tell me you want another baby.” He said in a strained low voice.

“Tell me how bad you want it.” He ordered. You were surprised he still had the strength to tease you, to make you beg.

“I want it.” You said without hesitating. He was still fucking you through your sensitivity which was starting to make you squirm but he liked it that way.

“Say it again.” He demanded with desperation.

“I want a-another baby Neil.” You could barely get out as he slammed particularly hard into you.

“More.” He all but growled. You could tell he was there, right on the tipping age. He was always more.. demanding when he was close.

“I-I want another baby. Fuck—I love you so much, I’d do anything for you.” The words spilled from your lips without even thinking.

It was a drop of tenderness in an act that would surely get you both sent to hell if you weren’t already married. But it buried Neil, hammering in the last nail towards completion.

Neil stilled for a moment, his full body weight pressing down on you as his thighs shook against yours.

He gaped for a second, the room falling eerily quiet as his orgasm sucked the air out of him. He gasped loudly, “Fuuuck..” drawled from his throat.

You felt him flex inside you over and over again, the head of his member hitting your sweet spot every time a hot gushing dose of come spilled from it.

His hands gripped the back of your knees for support as he pumped the last bit of it deep inside of you.

You tried to catch your breath but under the weight of him, it was proving to be difficult. Before you could say anything though, Neil pushed his lips to yours.

Lazy, sweet and all tongue. He lapped at your lips and then pressed his tongue to the back of your teeth. You hummed into the kiss, pulling him in deeper by the back of his head.

You both laid there for a moment, lip locked and absolutely wrecked. You pulled away just to tell him that he was starting to crush you, but of course, just a second later you heard the crackles of the baby monitor next to you, and soon enough the baby’s cries could be heard.

Neil smiled down at you, that same goofy smile that had you hooked from day one. “I’ll get him, you stay here and rest up.” He said already pulling away and out of you.

“You deserve it.” He added, placing one last kiss upon your nose and turning towards the closet to pull out some fresh clothes.

You deserve it.

—

Build Your Own Adventure | you already know ;) tested it out, it’s fiiilllthyyyy

This piece is dedicated to my coworker Bay who told me she accidentally took 90 “period cramp relief” pills that ended up making her lactate. Love u girl 🫶🏽

#holy moly this was a process #becs fics #cillian murphy #cillian murphy x reader #cillian murphy characters #cillian x fem!reader #neil lewis x reader #neil lewis #watching the detectives #READ THE TAGS PLS

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kneelingshadowsalome · 2 years ago

Text

Anhedonia 1/2

Word count: 5,5 k (part 1) and 4,4 k (part 2)

Pairing: Ghost x F!Reader Tags: SMUT 🔞🔞🔞 Literally just unadulterated, deranged filth, plot is there for decoration. Angst. Hurt/Comfort. Mutual pining, sexual tension (duh), blood & injury, p in v sex, oral sex (m receiving), mutual masturbation, cum all over the place, light humiliation, dirty talk, some praise, swearing, mask stays on, fluffy/reconciliatory ending. Summary: Reader is a Task Force 141 operator and a terrible brat (and suffers the consequences of it later). Enemies to lovers/toxic relationship that takes a healthy turn in the end.

"Think you're smarter than your lieutenant? Is that it?"

"No sir."

You coat your voice with steel. Stainless, similar to the knife he has strapped to his thigh. You would lick that blade clean if he asked gently, but he's not gentle. You'd flatten your tongue on his thighs too, if he asked nicely, if there was a chance he might pet your hair while you do it – but Ghost doesn't take pets.

He only has soldiers. Subordinates.

- - - - - - - - -

He's a mountain you want to climb.

A peak you wish to conquer.

But there's no basecamp, nothing to hold on to. You learn that relatively quickly, during your first weeks under his command.

And he's good. You find yourself wondering how on earth the man's not a captain by now. Perhaps they want to keep him on the field, because he earns his alias every day. He's a shadow no one sees before it's too late, he impregnates his enemies with bullets. Dead silent as he does it, or if he's in the mood, prefers to drive thick, sharp steel between the soft spot behind the collarbone.

It's ridiculous how your eyes steal their way to his left hand as soon as he rids himself of those skeleton gloves. To catch if there's a ring, a warning sign that he's taken.

He's not.

He notices – you're caught red handed. Caught like a fly in a web.

So you decide to go cold on him. Prove that it was just a sweep of a gaze, not a probe, a giveaway.

"Think you're smarter than your lieutenant?"

You're doing it now as he questions you, tries to bully you into submission. You guide your eyes right behind the top of his head, which makes it seem you're looking at him although you're not.

And it drives him crazy.

"Is that it?"

It's the first time you're here, in a silent office booming with his barks. But you know you're under scrutiny from now on. Caught his attention, just like you wanted to with that little stunt of yours.

"No sir."

You coat your voice with steel. Stainless, similar to the knife he has strapped to his thigh. You would lick that blade clean if he asked gently, but he's not gentle.

You'd flatten your tongue on his thighs too, if he asked nicely, if there was a chance he might pet your hair while you do it – but Ghost doesn't take pets. He only has soldiers. Subordinates.

You pull your gaze down to his at last, allow him to see the yawning hunger in your stare before you blink it away.

He draws air through the mask, and you wonder if the skull he's sewn onto the black textile came from a real human.

"Dismissed."

- - - - - - - - -

At some point, you notice that Ghost isn't just a good commander. He's a man on a powertrip, and a fucking bully.

He treats you different, like you’re made of glass. You’re a fresh arrival, but you’re also the only woman on his team, so you figure your Lt is just a good old “gentleman”. You’re always the last to enter a stormed building and the first to get back on the plane. You almost hope there would be some hazing, a rite of passage, but there’s only plentitude of cold shoulder, a roaring lack of trust in your abilities.

You pull more stunts. Clear his upstairs, take some bullets for him - and he doesn't even notice. It’s just that you didn’t know there would be a bomb planted in there as well. The warning comes right after you’re done cleaning.

"Wha' are you doin' - get outta there…!" He does forget to swear, and you notice too late that his accent grows thicker when he's worried. To the marrow of his bones, you would say, but that assumption would be even thicker than his Mancunian – to expect that he cares a single flying fuck about you.

He only wants to stay out of it. Doesn't want blood all over his hands, go to sleep with the knowledge that some kindly relatives get a death notification of a soldier that used to belong to him.

Maybe that's why he's the first to arrive - how the hell is a man so huge capable of being so quick? - to assess the damage.

"What the fuck have I told you-" he starts before he sees the state you're in. Half of your left sleeve blown and burnt off, revealing second-degree burns and jagged skin. The side of your hip bruised by shrapnels, some of the fragments tickling inside the flesh, ugly debris that will soon cause an infection or worse. You'd still say you got out lucky.

"I dunno. What have you told me?"

I did well, didn't I?

You lie there like it's nothing, back against a half crumbled wall and a spoil of bodies around you. Victorious, because your body is the only one that's still breathing. If anyone else had done this, he would praise them on a job well done, on the site, on the spot. With a lighter tone to that charred voice. Then call for a medic.

But inside, you're feeling cold. You disobeyed orders, so there will be no praise for you. Creeping shock takes you with it as the ice seeps further into your chest and your arms start to tremble.

By the look of it, you'd say he's infuriated.

But that doesn't stop you from laughing when you see the look in his eyes, the only part of him that shows skin, shows emotion behind all that gear and ombre of his mask.

Blood bubbles on your lips, coating pearl white teeth in crimson froth.

Shit… Things are far worse than you thought.

And he blinks. Scans what you can't force your own eyes to look at. The reason why you're gurgling blood.

A tiredness spreads through your limbs, so profound that it surpasses even his usual state of exhaustion. You barely discern how beautiful those pale, almost white eyelashes are against all that darkness.

Something inside you breaks, gives in to the cold. It allows his stare to pass right through. It grips your heart and soothes your wounds.

You almost tell him he would be a fine leader if he wasn't such an asshole.

"Haul me back, will you, Lt?"

He's struck silent, like the blood on your lips and the manic laughter had weaved a spell that binds him mute.

His arm twitches, disguises the jolt into a motion to reach and lift you up, not in a fireman's carry, but close to his chest; bridal style, like you're his heart's chosen one.

You tell yourself it's only the shock speaking. He carries you like this because of the gut wound.

- - - - - - - - -

"You tryin' to get yourself killed or you just wanna end your career?"

He sits next to your bed while you wake up, high on opioids and tied to an IV.

Nice to see you too.

He leans on his elbows, legs spread wide, and with an annoyingly soft look inside the sockets of that skull. It almost fools you: that he might actually care. And of course he does. Just not about you. Only about his own reputation as a superior who almost had their KIA count crawl up by one soldier.

"Hey? You still wi' me?"

You know you passed out in his arms. Only to wake up to the sound of his voice: in a bed less staunch than his embrace, as you notice to your horror.

You wonder whether he had ever even left you. Whether he had sat on that chair as a hulking sentinel for hours. Or days. The thought makes you more drowsy and content than the morphine running through your veins. The odd intimacy falsely makes it seem that this is not an interrogation, but a hushed discussion between teammates. Friends, dare say.

"What have I done wrong this time," you sigh, more as a statement; but he answers a question.

"You didn't obey orders."

"I did, I tried to get out as soon as-"

"Don't get me started on how ya ended up there in the first place." He raises his voice, an order for you to stuff your explanations up your arse. Under his breath, he continues. "A fuckin' poor excuse for a soldier..."

Bright, searing light flashes before your eyes as you hear what he never even meant to be a silent whisper for his ears only.

"You're a fucking bully," you croak a weak, dry rasp, voice coated with tension like a string about to snap in two.

And it shuts him up. For a second or two, at least.

"If that's what it takes to get you to obey orders then I'm happy to be one."

"Happy?" You feign a laugh, then wince when you feel a blunt pain between your ribs. "Do you even know what happiness is?"

He leaves.

- - - - - - - - -

"You feelin' better?"

He stops you at the base as you brush past him like he doesn't even exist. He's standing wide and tall as you turn, hands clasped in front of him. Over his cock, you can't help but notice.

Some distant voice tries to tell you that he only tries to offer you a truce. But even the idea of Ghost worrying about your health makes your stomach turn.

"Yeah, had a nice little vacation from your barking. I'm feeling splendid."

He gives you a once over with a gaze turned steel.

"You better quit with that tone, soldier."

"Or what?"

You take a step, and notice he has to fight some urge – to back away, or to take a step forward to meet you, you cannot say. It encourages you to start some shit. It makes you want to throw caution to the wind and rip out his throat.

"You better quit with the fucking bullying 'cause it doesn't work on me. Try something else for a change. Sir."

The hallway echoes with your piercing spurt of words. You sound childish, but he takes it all in like a sponge. Stands taller still, looks down at you like a dark, unwavering maw.

You expect more barking. Furious shouting, spit flying if it wasn't for his mask. You expect a slap – no, a fist to your face, or a giant hand clamped around your throat to remind you of your place.

You expect him to threaten you with being dismissed for fucking good.

But instead, the wide blown eyes get half covered with heavy lids, smudged paint running to the creases to reveal how pale his skin is under all that black. The liquid in his stare turns to solid glass, but not before you catch a flash of chutzpah.

- - - - - - - - -

The following week is horrid.

He treats you like a princess. And not just when you're alone with him – precious few seconds, barely a minute every now and then – but when you're at work. On the field.

He humiliates you in front of your teammates. Showers you with attention and praise.

Tries something else for a change.

You come back soaked and shaky, barge into your room only to send fingers down as soon as you're out of your gear and cleaned up. You think about his hands, the forearms covered in faded ink and bulged veins and the muscles that bunch as he tucks a gun against his shoulder. You think about his stare that locks gazes with you as he leans back against the hull of a plane, you replay his voice in your head, the thick smoke that loses all blaze and cools down into soft embers as he asks if you're in position.

Everyone else can hear his purr, everyone is thinking by now that the two of you got something going on. Everyone else gets unemotional distance and professional sharpness.

You come against your fingertips, so wet that it's difficult to rub through the afterwaves with precision. You're near the point of tearing up as you stifle the moans which threaten to echo all the way to the hallway, betraying your desperate longing for his cock.

You would get in position for him if he was just a tad nicer, if there was any promise of those cruel arms holding you after.

After only a few days of hearing his feigned care and concern through the comms, you march into his office.

"I'm fucking done with you," you slam the door shut so no one else has to hear how you unload weeks of frustration on him.

"Is that so?"

You feel like you're a storm, an entire tornado in one woman, but he remains calm, doesn't even bother to get up from the leisurely position he's in – on a chair far too small for him. Plucks you like a chord, nibs at you like a wound that tries to heal into a scar but is not allowed to.

"You just want me to quit this shit, don't you? Is it because I'm a girl?"

You hear yourself breathe, know he's thinking you're hysterical. He asserts dominance simply by not taking any part in this absurd little fit of yours.

"What the fuck have I ever done to you?"

You think it's a reasonable enough question, that he is a man who would welcome tearing down every last scene of this stupid charade too. But he merely stares at you, calm as he ever can be. Spreads his legs further apart, and you catch a bulge – it's difficult to tell, because he's wearing field pants and not jeans, but you can almost swear the motion is meant to disguise a swelling erection.

And even the concept, the idea of him getting off on you screaming at him and making yourself a fool after he has just humiliated you, causes something to crash and burn.

"You're just a psycho," you accuse, not being able to come up with anything better. His eyes narrow with a smile, tired pools of brown that tell you he thinks the exact same thing of you, especially when you're the one who's freaking out here. Getting wounded and losing your shit during the first few months on the job.

The look could be mistaken as affectionate, but you know he's just tired. The smile makes him look slightly drunk – and not with love.

"Then what does that make you?"

You blink and stare, blink and stare, just like you have always done with him when he's being a dodgy asshole.

"The fuck do you mean?"

"No need to play games with me, luv."

Your chest is heaving. Your heart is pounding. Saliva pools into your mouth before you send it down with a throat-wrenching swallow.

Luv.

You're caught, wrestling and strangling in his web, and you know it – he knows it.

"What games," you still try, try your all to make him break first although you already know that's not going to happen in a million years.

"I know ya want my cock."

"Huh- wha-..." You stutter like a moron at first, then find your English again. "Excuse me?"

"Want it so bad I bet you're wet even now."

It only adds to your shame that it takes you a moment.

"I'm out of here."

He laughs.

He fucking laughs as you go.

The waves of darkness follow you to the door. And the thing is, you're unable to leave. You march away with horror in your chest, with weak legs and an aching cunt and a burning heart, but none of it makes you turn the knob.

"You forgot something?"

His voice is molten, burning velvet, and your stomach lurches, your pussy throbs.

"It's right here if ya want it."

You quiver a sigh, turn slowly, the sound of squeaking boot soles on the vinyl floor being a fitting melody to how your will finally breaks in half.

Everything bends under his searing gaze, and you're still breathing like you had just run a mile, your heart pounding in your ears instead of your chest where it belongs.

"What happens if I do? Want it?"

Your heart can be heard in your question which shimmers between you until he drops one giant hand on his thigh, just a fingerbreadth away from the thick tent between his legs.

"You get fucked. Hard."

You're not smart enough to suppress the faint breath before it escapes through your teeth. The creases at the corner of his eyes deepen, they reach under the mask.

"What if I want you to be gentle?"

You sound pathetic. Weak. He doesn't buy it, doesn't understand that what you're asking is actually part true… No, your most secret wish.

"As if."

"What?"

"As if you wanted it gentle." He mocks you over and over again, and it pricks at the back of your neck, like an itch you cannot reach.

"You don't know shit about me."

"You're making it pretty hard to get to know you, sweetheart."

The term he uses eats its way through your skin like a worm, starts to fester like a spreading plague right beneath your heart.

"I'm not your sweetheart."

He cocks his head, only slightly. A gesture that reminds you of an anaconda trying to decipher whether the animal in front of them is a plaything or prey with teeth.

"Hurts my feelings when ya say that."

You don't take the bait: ridicule or point out that he has no feelings.

You just wait. The time of prancing and dancing is over, and you're tired. Worn out.

The tension of weeks, the restlessness of sleepless nights and adrenaline induced faps do not end with a seize of a wrist, a hungry kiss or him smashing you up against a wall. It all ends with him rising from the chair with a rustle of fabric and a creak of wood, and you hear yourself swallow.

I never meant to hurt your feelings, the little girl in you whispers with a puny voice, the girl who believed in fairytales as a child.

But the grown ass woman knows the man before you is only here to take what he wants, which is nothing more than to drive his cock inside your cunt. There's nothing romantic about it, he just wants to empty himself into you like he would empty a gun into unsuspecting flesh.

Still, you search for some emotion as he walks to you, some cue or clue that he has feelings too – and you want to slap yourself for it.

You square your shoulders and bring yourself down to his level, which means you have to transform yourself into a cock thirsty slut. Not that it requires much of an effort. It comes fluidly, far too easily, especially when he looks at you like he has already stripped you. Like he has done it a hundred, if not thousand times before: took your clothes off with his eyes. Traced the way your ass and breasts swell inside camos and field shirts and how they press against concrete as you take support for your aim or sit down on a plane, how the fabric stretches to curve and hug the flesh he wants to sink his hands and teeth into.

He stops a breath away, the breadth of his shoulders looming over you like a tower. A summit you can't reach.

You remember a name, something not uttered around the base, even if everyone knows it.

"Simon," you breathe, and he staggers – takes a ghost of a step as if answering a call. It turns into switching his weight on the other leg, but technically, he's closer now, close enough to drown into. "Why are you so mean?"

You can hear his teeth clash together as he clenches his jaw. You're walking on a tightrope, and you're faltering, far more wobbly than he. That question is tender meat, it allows him to see a glimpse of the girl, silken soft, innocent and plush, trusting. It causes a glitch, confusion he's not familiar with.

Then he lifts his chin, just a hair's breadth.

"Thought you wanted me to be."

It's almost sentimental, what he says. How he says it. Equally soft… Tentative, inquiring. He's still bone and steel and tendon, but his eyes and voice are not. They're a relic from a distant past, and you stand there, agape.

You dare to hope that there's more to this man, that he isn't here to retaliate. That you're not here to be punished. You risk a flutter of lashes as you scan his face – his bone charade, a prison – up and down, then swallow a decision with a solemn intake of air.

"Where do you want me?"

You're sanguine, almost flirty, but your offer hits nothingness.

There's no additional giveaway to him having any kind of longing, other than the longing to insert himself inside you and take whatever sick pleasure he gets from torturing you. The brief slant was just a fish hook to be sinked into your lungs and carry you to the shore for him to gut and roast. Feast upon.

"Desk."

It's too late to back down now.

Not that you even want to.

You stuff your heart down your throat before it spills up in tears, then slip past him, to the furniture he wants to be your marital bed.

He watches, shoulders rising with heavy breaths as you undress. Shoes and pants end up in the same heap you soon step out of. You enjoy the flash in his eyes at the notion of you wearing strings – something so impractical and uncomfortable yet sultry under all that durable, heavy canvas. A woman emerges from the waves of thick fabric meant for a soldier. Some Aphrodite.

Well, it's something for him to think on after this. Something to torment himself with while on missions if this is to be just a one time only slip.

The bulge in his pants is even more visible now. Demanding, and it adds to the warmth already pooling down below as you set yourself up on that desk, near the edge, for him to feast upon.

You don't spread your legs for him, though. You want to make him work for it. You simply shiver as the cold wood meets your skin, but even more shaky you get when he doesn't have to go through the same ordeal as you. He simply opens the front of his pants and tugs the fabric down, just enough to allow the hefty thickness to spring free.

And it doesn't exactly spring, because it's so immense that you have to do a double take. It simply vaults, bounces up once when seeing you on that desk. You throb at the sight of him, even if he doesn't give you much – he's still fully clothed, with his mask on, only cock jutting out and hands liberated from black gloves with bones printed on them.

His balls hang heavy beneath the veined weight of his cock, and you instantly think about how you're going to fare with at least a week load of cum about to be stuffed inside you. You've had a hand down your pants almost every night for weeks on end, while he has been staring at you with a thickening haze of lust and what seems to be a pair of heavily encumbered nuts.

You don't even notice how your mouth drops open in hungry astonishment.

"Have seen that look before," he brags, and you snap your mouth shut.

Fucking manchild.

He grabs the veined girth like it's his favourite weapon, something he's proud of, and your legs part by themselves for him to step in between. He doesn't have to work for it after all.

"Knew you wanted it," he rubs it in your face like someone who has passed an IQ test with genius scores.

There's nothing ceremonial about the way with which he spreads your lips with the thick tip, slides up and down to coat himself with your wetness, ample amounts of it. It only takes a probe or two for him to find the right angle, and you help him instinctually, offering yourself to him as he slips inside.

The hungry clench grips him immediately, making it a long, arduous journey for the both of you as he has to practically force himself in. But it's worth every thick inch, and your head tilts back with a moan.

"Yeah… Sing f' me, just like that," he cheers you on, and you feel a trickle of hot, wet cream run down your ass. Your slickness is probably running down his shaft by now, too. He adjusts his stance, comes closer, so close that you feel like you are sheltered by his upper body, the shoulders that form a warm cave around you.

And your body betrays you. His praise makes you tight around him, and he groans. You bite your lip at the sound while he takes his time with a few exploring thrusts, then settles fully inside, like you're his new home.

"Nice 'n' snug, just like I thought," he turns toward your ear, the edge of the jarred skull brushing your cheek and making you flinch. He sounds appreciative, relieved, like you're his little treat after a hard day. He's been thinking about you, imagining how tight you'd be for him…

"Didn't take long for you to spread your legs for me."

And he has to be an asshole about it. Has to tear you down a bit for every inch of vulnerability. Your teeth sink in the inside of your lip from the sheer heartache, a little too hard.

"Didn't take long for you to offer your cock to me," you cut back, tasting blood on your tongue. He chuckles.

"An offer you couldn't refuse," he muses, satisfied with himself.

His hand comes to cradle your shoulder, then slides down your back. It feels… feels like a caress. A fond, loving touch. Paired with the thickness spreading you open for him, it also feels like hell.

You grab hold of him, fingers curling around the slippery fabric of his jacket. He allows you no skin, and you try to hold on to the sleek shield you can't get past.

"No," you admit with a panted sigh as he slowly glides in and out of you. "Is this how you break in all your new recruits?"

He doesn't offer a witty comeback, but the silence is stretched further by the fact that he stops moving.

"’S not about breakin' in," he finally answers, resumes to thrust slowly. Agonizingly slow, like he wants to commit this moment deep into memory. Not a quick rut then, as you had expected, hoped, even. But the feeling of thick heat, the brush of his pelvis on your clit, has you clinging to him like he's your knight in shining armor.

And he's gentle with you.

Gentle.

It makes you want to kiss him, lift that mask just enough to have a taste of his neck, see his mouth just before it opens to devour yours.

"You didn't- ah- answer the question." Your shaky breaths must be music to his ears, but you decide that's all he's going to get. He knows now that you're jealous of his attention and his cock.

"Not here to answer your questions," he says, but you hear a lacing on top of it: amusement. "Just wanna hear your pretty cries."

Even if he's far more tender than you had expected, his cock soon pounds into you seamlessly. Fat, urgent. You stretch around him, hear the slickness and an occasional squelch guide him through the thrusts with ease. A lewd fucking that has his shoulders shaking as he reaches for a better hold of you, almost enough to call it a hug. His tightening balls hit against the hard edge of the desk instead of your flesh, but he doesn't seem to care at all.

"C'mon… Let's hear 'em," he coaxes, begs, almost, but you don't sing on command. Much less cry for a man who's tormented you for weeks on end.

"I'm not giving you anything," you utter while giving him loads of hungry cunt and tugging of clothes. If he was naked, he would have scratches all over his back by now.

"You drive me fuckin' insane. 'N' that's sayin' somethin'..." His hiss of an outburst causes you to recoil from him, or perhaps it’s the cause of his hands which thieve their way under the hem of your shirt. But he doesn't probe or squeeze. The touch is far from carnal, even if the palm hovers warm near your breasts. It settles against your ribs, a featherlight caress across the healed wound you suffered not too long ago because of him.

Tears burn at the corners of your eyes.

Fuck… You might open your legs for him, take gunshots for him, but you're not going to cry for him.

"Good, then we're both crazy," you whisper while trying not to choke on a flood. He hums – it's a rumble that rises from his chest and ends in his smoke-burned throat. And for every bit of weakness, he allows you a peek of his own fragility. It's a transaction, you assume, only used to trap you further into the abyss.

"You've dreamed of this, then?" The shadows sigh into your ear, ravenous.

"Mh," you nearly sob. You tell yourself it's just a noise that happens to erupt, not a confession. But he's the jury and the judge, decides your whimper is a full-scale avowal.

"Mmh…" he mocks with a satisfied rumble in your ear, overjoyed with the bare minimum of a moan you just gave him.

For a moment you fear you're dealing with a starving narcissist. He's praise-starved, love deprived, but good at what he does, and you feel yourself clench around him again. It's an increasing grip this time, not a throb or a suck. The first sign of an approaching orgasm, and it drives him over the brink far too soon.

"Fuck– I'm close," he pants, slightly alarmed. "What about you luv?"

"Not yet," you lie, and he believes you because it dips right inside his deepest fear, like a finger poking an open wound.

"My cock's not good enough for you?"

He discloses something precious: women are usually writhing in his arms by now, but you're not screaming, you're not crying and coming. You're not coming at all, because he's too greedy, too lost in the solace of you.

It's kind of sad, how fiercely you've masturbated at the thoughts of him, only to get the real thing and have it end too soon. You want to surrender and lean back on the cold desk, show him how good you can be as you wrap up around him and make lots and lots of noise just for him, only for him…

But your fingers find an opening, they steal their way under the mask and trace his blood heated neck, and you know he's not going to last – and you have to tear him down while he's at his weakest.

"It's good enough..." you give him the truth and a Judas kiss, knowing he will gobble it up like cake. Slowing down isn't going to do shit, the man is a split second away from heaven, and you tell him what's the matter with a whisper.

"...but you're not."

He comes right then and there with a throaty moan, the most agonized wail you've ever heard leave him. His back arches as he tries to bury himself deep, sweat breaks upon your fingertips from the shame and fury – caused by your words or the fact that he came before giving you your peak, you can't tell.

You feel him throb inside you, like a pulse of a powerful heartbeat before his shoulders cave in, rendering him fragile. A crumbling colossus, too heavy to bear his own weight.

He allows himself only a breath or two. They break upon your skin, somewhere between neck and shoulder, the humidity of his torment nestling in the valley behind the collarbone where he usually shoves knives in. Then he withdraws like a wounded soldier, leaves you emptier than you were before you even knew him, leaves only a fat trickle of combined cream and cum behind. It begins a steady trail down your perineum, ends up on the desk, like a proof that this is all you two are good for.

You're on display, your destroyed and hungry cunt winking against cold air, mourning the loss of his thickness. Your skin aches for the callus of his palms, the touch of them far more reverent than you had ever imagined.

He tucks himself inside his pants without sparing a single glance your way. An injured animal that needs to seek shelter to lick his wounds.

You feel terrible pity, a sinking fear and a blast of guilt upon noticing you might've been wrong. You want to apologize, not as a heartbroken, scorned woman – but as a girl who only wanted everyone to be happy.

"Simon…"

He zips his pants – an audible hint meant to tell you that he got what he wanted, and nothing more. It's like witnessing a giant's limp, and you want to fall on your knees and beg forgiveness.

The voice that follows cuts deeper than the bullets you took for him.

"Dismissed."

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