#I had to sit and ruminate on this for a minute

[iguessitsjustme]

I can’t stop thinking about that scene in the library where Day drops the CDs and Mhok just watches him because it perfectly encapsulates why Day chooses Mhok out of everyone else to be his caretaker.

It’s not about the fact that Mhok treats him normally because everyone’s normal is different. For me, if I see someone drop something and struggle to pick it up, I jump in and help regardless of the reason it was dropped. Because that’s the kind of person I am. That’s normal for me, but it’s not normal for Mhok.

The reason Mhok is chosen is because he treats Day as capable. He knows Day can walk to him to get his library card. He knows Day can pick up the CDs. He doesn’t ignore Day’s disability but he doesn’t treat him like he’s limited by it (at least at first I’m sure this will change as he takes care of Day).

When Mhok crashed showed up for the initial interview, Day made a snarky comment about the reason they were hiring someone was because he can’t even manage to eat on his own without injuring himself. Day is tired and he’s angry and he used to be an athlete and now he can’t even feed himself without his mother worrying.

Day is angry about his situation but behind that and buried very deep is fear that this is his life forever. That he will never see again and he will need to rely on people for the rest of his life. Then Mhok comes along and he’s also angry. Mhok’s pain and grief isn’t something that can ever be cured but it can be healed. And their anger speaks to each other. Mhok sees the anger and fear and pain in Day and understands and sees his own anger and pain reflected back.

Also no one treats Mhok like he’s capable despite his skill set because of his past. He was in jail? Oh well I guess suddenly he doesn’t know how to be a mechanic anymore. Mhok and Day need each other because they treat each other as more than what society sees them as and they treat each other like they’re capable of more than the shit hands they’ve been dealt.

[blackbird-brewster]

I just realised I'm at the point in life where I've spent more years past high school graduation than the age I graduated at.

The passage of time is a mindfuck. Damn.

[luveline]

coworker James being protective of reader like she’s just a sweet and kind thing and he’s FINALLY accepting his feelings and reader gets like happy that he cares?

“No, no, it’s okay. Yeah, don’t worry about me, I’m just gonna watch movies all weekend. I might make popcorn. Yeah! Don’t worry about it, just have fun, okay?” 

You’re talking quietly but not without pep, hushed to avoid disturbing him. By the sounds of it, your plans for the weekend have bombed. You’re taking it remarkably well. 

“Okie dokie. Well, I’ll see you soon, yeah? Love you. Bye.” You don’t lift your head where you’re laying against the desk, but you put your phone gently by your keyboard. 

“That blows,” James says. 

“Maybe.” You turn your face to see him, before you lift yourself up and return to the pack of biscuits you’ve opened. “Do you want some?” you ask, bringing a malted milk to your mouth. 

“Please.” 

You gesture for him to take one. In relative quiet, you and James sit there chewing, the sunlight from the open window on your hands. 

“You’re not upset about your plans?” he asks. 

“A bit, but… I don’t want her to feel bad for me. She should have a good time, she got last minute tickets to see a band and she loves them. We can just hang out next weekend.” You push the biscuits toward him. “I need to stop eating these all the time.” 

You stand up and do a big stretch, arm arched over your head before you laugh and point at him. He’s never had someone look at him like this. “Pretend you didn’t see that,” you say, raising your eyebrows just a touch. 

You’re being playful. James’ stomach flips. “I didn’t see a thing,” he says. 

You drop your pointing. “Really?” 

He covers his eyes. 

Your following laughter is even richer. 

“This office makes me tired. I’m going to make some coffee before lunch is over,” you say. 

You walk away like nothing happened. James is left to ruminate. 

He pushes a hand into the crop of his hair and ruffles it, stressed, though the scratch of his nails against his scalp relieves some tension. James is used to being annoyed at you, you were always so irked with him, but lately he struggles to find anger for you. He still loves to tease you and watch your eyes change; there’s no better moments than on the mornings he’s here first and he’s found a new hiding place for your mug, and you’re forced to ask him where it is he put it. Asked is kind, really. More aptly, you demand to know where it is, and promise professional retribution. 

You could always drink from a different mug, but James has a feeling you like asking. This morning, you found it by yourself, and you put it smugly on your desk with steam rising from the surface. “You’re getting worse,”

you’d said, and that smugness suddenly felt friendly. Your smile was ten different shades of sweet. 

You are… quite sweet. You’re kind. You don’t let much upset you that isn’t James, even when it should. And the James stuff is all superficial. When was the last time you guys argued over something that mattered?

Which isn’t to say he doesn’t love arguing with you. But he’s coming to appreciate another side of you, the side that comes back to your desk with a fresh coffee and little happy breath of air when you see he’s made his two figurines cuddle each other. 

“They’re in love,” you say dreamily. 

“You can be so lovely,” James says. It’s like something takes over his body. 

You put your coffee down. “What?” you ask, smiling as though it’s a joke you don’t get. 

He’s not sure he should say it again. “I don’t know. When you smile, you’re really pretty. Like, even more than usual.” 

“Ha-ha.” 

“No, I’m serious.” 

“I don’t believe you.” 

James takes one of your biscuits. “Then don’t, it doesn’t bother me.” He wishes he hadn’t said it, what a weird thing to say, but he can’t pretend he was kidding, it would be crueller than saying nothing. So he wedges a biscuit in his mouth and laughs when you call him gross, your facade one he doesn’t believe. You wrinkle your nose, but you’re happy underneath it. 

Lovely, even. 

[alnilaem]

HELLO HELLO HI!!! just read your butcher!simon and i’m. in LOVE??? maybe you could continue about reader like. keeps running into him at the Worst Times (running late going somewhere looking like shit, barely awake or crying in the elevator idk LOL) and he’s just like 🤨🤨??? OR reader tries to make small talk with him since they usually get off work at the same time but simon being simon he’s just like. hm. or grunts HE’S TRYING! BUT HE’S JUST a bit socially inept… oRRR reader bakes and had some leftovers and decides to give extras to simon and he’s like. Okay . and pretends that he’s not amused but secretly loves it SO CUTE AAGHH can’t think of anything else but penny for your thoughts? teehee LOVE YOUR WORKKK

ARGHHHH socially inept butcher!simon is so cute. i wanna build a shrinking machine and zap him with it and fossilise him in amber <3

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Dusk has eclipsed Manchester, draping a greyscale blanket over the city by the time you enter the laundry room with a hamper tucked under your arm.

That was fifteen minutes ago. And since then, you’ve been trying to get the damn washing machine to work.

It’s an old hunk of junk. Repurposed scrap metal with duct tape lining its corners and a dog-eared note hanging above it, reading, Do Not Overload! in crude writing.

You bend your thumb into the start button for the umpteenth time, but it’s fruitless. The feeble machine rumbles to life, sputtering, then has its embers killed as it fails to continue running.

You angrily huff. Your eye bags are as laden as your muscles, heavy and weighed down with the stress of everything piling up. Job hunting; the constant maintenance your neglected flat needs; the abrasive attitude of your new neighbours.

Fleetingly, you consider moving back home. But before the rumination snatches you, you snuff it out with a swift, irritable kick to the drywall next to you, your toes bending with the impact, the pain crawling up your marrow.

“Bit uncalled for, don’t you think?” Chimes from behind you, and you swirl around, coming face-to-mask with Simon. You hope he can’t see your dewy waterline.

“Don’t believe that wall ever did nothin’ to ya,” he tacks on.

The cellophane of the plastic bag he holds—which you presume carries his laundry—crinkles as he clenches his hand. He’s swathed in sweatpants and a compression shirt, slick with a wisp of sweat, and lets his curls sit freely, its tint somewhere on the threshold between rustic cocoa and gilded blonde.

Simon’s words belatedly catch up to you. You heed his attempt at a playful inflection, unsure if it was meant for you or for him, and flush when you see how expectantly, and bluntly, he’s eyeing you.

You listlessly gesture to the washing machine. “It isn’t working.”

His grunt is prefatory. Simon walks towards the machine, poises a fist over it, and brings his hand down on it in three, sparse punches.

The machine coughs out exhaust, then burgeons into a smooth run.

“Not broken,” Simon grumbles, his words barely lucid beneath his Manchester lilt, “just fucking old.”

“I see,” you mumble, “thanks.”

Simon steps back and begins unloading his own laundry. He stuffs wads of clothing, all imbued with blood and the scent of meat, into another machine.

A pinprick of gluttony tugs your stomach. To say something, anything, to keep the conversation warm.

“The mask…” you begin, “is the black mold in your flat that bad?”

Simon turns to you, his eyes deadpan. It sends icy humiliation up your spine, leaving you pettish.

The hum of the washing machine loosely offsets the thick embarrassment in the room. Loud and tinny.

Beneath the rumble, however, a small, barely-there chuckle crosses Simon’s tongue. “Ha,” he says. It’s charitable at worst and genuine at best.

“… I should go… while my clothes’re washing,” you mumble, your cheeks hot with embarrassment.”

You’re past the threshold, stepping into the corridor, when Simon calls after you.

Your lungs stutter and stop. You want him to ask for your number, ask you out to lunch some time, but when you turn around, you feel like you’re falling.

An ornamental pair of panties dangle from Simon’s forefinger. It’s lacy, gauzy, and should be lying on the floor of your flat.

You burn a searing molten as you snatch it from his hands, mortified, and sprint towards the lift.

You turned around before you could see it. A caper in Simon’s eye, the barest implication to something more than a maladroit interaction: an amused, titillating smirk beneath his mask.

[temis-de-leon]

10 signs a cow is happy

Characters: Belphie x gn!MC

Main Masterlist

CW: developing and established relationship. A tiny bit suggestive at one point and there's a mention of rumination (regurgitation) in another one. Otherwise, nothing

A/N: a little different from what I'm used to, but I figured trying something new could help with the writer's block. Hope you enjoy it!

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Inspired by this video and this one <3

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He reacts to his name.

Except it isn’t just his name; at least when the one looking for him is MC.

Most of the time it’s Belphie, although Belphegor comes out occasionally, like those mornings when they’re both running late for class and he won’t wake up. There are also the late nights when MC is too tired to speak and only hums the melody of his name, but the demon still opens an arm and offers the spot beside him.

He frowns when Lucifer yells and continues sleeping when Beel carries him without a care in the world, but, conscious or not, he always smiles when MC is the one calling for him.

He spends time socialising and grooming others.

It’s more noticeable once he’s freed from the attic and he feels the need to spend as much time with them as his brothers had had while he was trapped, although his hate towards humans dissipating might’ve also had something to do with it.

One moment MC finds themselves relaxing in their room and the next, after answering an ominous text message, they are lying down next to him in the planetarium, first admiring the stars and then letting him play with their hair as he unknots it with his fingers.

His touch only grows more intimate as their friendship deepens and eventually evolves into something much less platonic, but the love and care within remain the same.

He likes to play with toys, like balls.

Which is something no one expects; a welcomed surprise.

They’re all sitting in a couple of booths inside a cheap diner in the middle of nowhere, one more time victims of their own misadventures. The smell of meaty grease surrounds them and sticks to their clothes, leaving both Asmo and Beel in tears for completely different reasons, and the mean-looking waitress has enough kindness in her heart to give them an old kid’s toy to entertain themselves.

It goes first to MC, the favourite in the family, and then to Belphie, who never gets to give it to anyone else. He throws it, catches it and bounces it against any surface available until Lucifer gives him a warning look and threatens to confiscate it, to which he pouts.

A couple of minutes later, he throws it in MC’s direction, so they throw it back to him with a smile.

Five minutes later, the ball is neatly kept in Lucifer’s pocket.

He has zoomies.

Another surprise, although not as sweet as the last one.

There’s a primal fear in the depths of their mind, the one that yearns for survival, that begs MC to run and hide the very few times Belphie looks at them with those dilated pupils. They suppose it makes sense, even if they’re not afraid of him anymore.

He doesn’t look dangerous or aggressive, just unsettlingly alert and active for a demon who’s supposed to be always tired; shockingly fast and agile each time the sudden bursts of energy make him run through the house jumping in unfiltered glee, going past MC close enough to almost tackle them to the ground.

Satan suspects it’s a consequence of his long periods of rest and, while MC finds it fascinating, they can’t wait for Belphie to go back to normal.

He’s enthusiastic about treats.

A feature he shares with his brother, no doubt, is their twin telepathy proving its existence yet again; and even though they’re strikingly different, they still share some mannerisms as well, like the way they smile or look up at MC whenever they enter their room.

And that brightness in their face only increases if there are goodies involved.

MC sometimes jokes about Beel being more like a goat, trying to eat anything and everything whether or not is edible. Fortunately, Belphie’s stomach is not that demanding, so a simple sushi platter is enough to leave him happy.

However, MC can’t help but wonder if being the one who brings the treats is part of the reason for his enthusiasm because if so, every market near them will have a sushi shortage very soon.

He chews cud.

Which serves to remind MC of his non-human, half-ruminant nature.

With the middle of March approaching, the twins’ birthday is celebrated as much as possible. The amount of food at the table is tremendous and it even reaches Diavolo’s height; a perfect example of the word variety. There are dishes, appetizers, snacks and desserts for everyone’s taste, fruits and meats and vegetables and whatnot. Fortunately, Beel eats half of it in the blink of an eye before it can get overwhelming.

But for some reason, there’s also a medium-sized bowl full of what looks like grass. It’s hidden amongst other things, probably because of the oddity of its presence, but Belphie finds it quickly enough.

The sight that follows is morbidly captivating and equally disgusting, especially when the chewed food comes back to his mouth for more chewing.

At the end of the day, the important thing is that he’s happy.

…right?

He initiates hugs.

Usually when he wants cuddles and, bratty as he is, his requests often sound more like demands.

He opens his arms, brings MC to his chest and breathes in. There’s a hand wrapped around their waist and another cradling their head, softly scratching their scalp, and their body is already relaxing against his before they can even think about what they’re doing.

Sometimes, when he looks too grumpy to be taken seriously, they like to tease him, laughing at the shocked and offended expression he wears when they playfully ignore his attempted embrace.

They suppose it’s sweet, the idea of always being close as a given fact.

He exposes his tummy for belly rubs.

While lying in that position might be seen as vulnerable for some, it doesn’t seem to be a problem for Belphie; although being a powerful demon probably gave him a good sense of security.

MC would never complain about it, anyway. Seeing him so at peace around them and not only letting, but asking to be pet? A perfect evening if they’ve ever seen one. They let themselves enjoy the feeling of his stomach trembling under the tip of their nails and the small puffs of air that come out when their fingers threaten to travel lower.

It’s a type of intimacy that he wouldn’t mind bragging about in front of his brothers, but he still stays quiet to keep it private and uninterrupted.

He licks his lips when you hit the right scratch spot.

The boredom is hefty enough to kill the whole classroom. Some are painting their skin, others are painting their seatmate’s skin and MC is wondering how soft Belphie’s hair is. He is sitting in front of them during the last period of the day and the temptation is too strong to avoid.

For once, he isn’t carelessly dropped on the table, but rather leaning back and letting his head rest on the back of the chair; he is conscious enough to pay attention to their professor in his sleep but not to his surroundings, so MC takes their shot.

At first they think it’s a coincidence and pay no mind to the subtle movement of his tongue wetting his lips when they scratch his nape, but then it happens again and again and they find themselves unable to stop and forget their little discovery.

Thankfully, when the bell rings and Belphie wakes up to go home with them, MC has the perfect excuse.

He drools! Such things happen!

He purrs.

It takes MC some time to figure out what is the deep rumbling that follows them for months, mainly because it sounds like a creaking door and, while the House of Lamentation is old, the structure and the furniture are kept mostly intact.

Just like white noise, once they turn it down, it’s impossible not to miss it and the realisation is enough to turn the sadness of returning to the human realm into a full crying meltdown.

It was there the whole time: when they woke up Belphie and they were the first person he saw; or when they laid together and played and simply enjoyed each other’s presence and existence.

It’s there again when MC can’t deal with the loneliness anymore and calls him.

The rumbling, a purr, peeking under his low voice.

If that isn’t enough reason to keep loving him, then what is?

.

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Taglist: @ilovecandys2010 @ollieoven @kingofspadesdelusion @whimsybloom

[danikamariewrites]

Falling

Cassian x reader

Note: sorry for my absence, I’ve been busy and unmotivated the last weeks. I don’t like to talk about politics but I want you all to know that I’m very unhappy with the election and it’s upset me. I really have nothing else to say because quite frankly im speechless. Know that my blog is a safe space and you can reach out to me any time if you want to vent because I will vent right there with you.

On a slightly better note, this has motivated me to keep being creative. Writing and being in a creative space has truly kept me going over the last few years and I refuse to stop. Mainly because if I stop I think I’ll just give up. And I’m not fucking giving up because this has been the best distraction. Sorry for the long note but I just wanted to get that out there and know you’re not alone in your frustration. ❤️

Warnings: some angst

Cassian was exhausted. He knew he was when he looked into your bright eyes as you excitedly waited for him to pick you up to fly home and couldn’t bring himself to lift you.

His mind wasn’t in the right place to enjoy the closeness of you in his arms. You always deserved him at a hundred percent, especially when your life was in his hands. Not while he was still actively thinking about Devlon getting in his face about their disagreement.

Even now, only minutes away from home, Cassian was still clenching his jaw, ruminating about the words Devlon spat at him.

Cassian was pissed that Devlon ruined his day. He had big plans for you that included a dinner reservation and him finally telling you how he feels about you. Only took him two years to gain the courage to decide he would tell you how in love with you he is. And now he’s too in his head to even fathom saying “I’m in love with you y/n.”

Azriel flying next to him with you in his arms wasn’t helping his mood either. Every time he heard you and Az talk or laugh his jealousy grew. It was his own fault though.

Flying over the Sidra the House of Wind finally comes into view. The monstrous house on the cliff had relief flowing through Cassian. Almost home, Cassian tells himself over and over.

Looking over at you and Azriel he sees a smile bloom on your face as you look down at the glittering water, you point out the fish jumping from the surface, making ripples that you can see from way up in the sky. The sight of your joy eases Cassian’s anger.

A gust of wind hits them hard enough to knock Az and Cass off balance. Without your added weight Cassian has no problem balancing himself out, controlling his wings on instinct.

Your scream has him pivoting against the gust, whipping his head in time to see Az lose balance as you tumble from his arms.

Azriel tries to dive but the wind fights against his wings. Cassian wastes no time to dive for you. Tucking his wings in as tight as he possibly can, he free falls with his hands reaching out for you.

You don’t stop screaming until Cassian grabs on to you, pulling you flush to his chest. You cling to Cassian, wrapping your arms tight around his neck.

“I got you,” he murmurs in your ear. “I got you, baby, it’s okay.”

Without looking back at Azriel he flys hard for the House. Cassian should check on his brother, he feels guilty not doing so. But the love of his life just tumbled from his brother's arms and he couldn’t care less if Az was in the Sidra right now or behind him.

Landing on the balcony closest to the bedrooms Cassian readjusts you in his hold. He can feel you trembling as he rushes to get you in a comfortable place.

Cassian kicks your door hard, rushing over to your bed. Gently placing you down he pulls away to see you staring off, a blank look on your face and teeth digging into your bottom lip.

He backs away to get you a change of clothes until you grip his arms tighter, letting out a small whimper. “Don’t,” you plead. Cassian wraps you in his arms, rubbing soothing circles on your back.

The two of you sit like that for a long, long time. Once your trembling stops you slightly lean away from Cassian, shaking out your arms and rolling your neck.

His heart breaks at the sight of fear still lingering in your eyes. Cassian slowly brings his hands up to gently cup your face, resting his forehead against yours. “You’re ok, you’re safe. That’s all that matters.” You nod, molding yourself into Cassian’s body.

“Thank you for catching me.” You whisper. Cassian squeezes you tighter to his chest. “I’ll always catch you, y/n. Always.” The fierceness in his tone sends a chill down your spine.

You won’t let Cassian leave you, even long after the sun sets. The only time Cass left was to get you dinner and to change into his pajamas. Once you’re asleep Cassian can’t find it in himself to leave you.

Tomorrow, he decided. Cassian will tell you everything tomorrow.

[pathologicalreid]

hiii love! I’d love to request a fic where Spencer takes care of the reader in anyway. Fluff, angst, h/c idk my depressed ass would just love something like that 🥰

dazed days | S.R.

your job at the FBI is hard, but life with spencer is easy

who? spencer reid x fem!BAU!reader category: fluffy with a smidge hurt/comfort content warnings: mild disassociation, crying, nondescript case related crimes, nonsexual nudity word count: 1.17k a/n: hi sweetie baby angel! thank you so much for your request, i hope you like it! additionally, thank you all for 1k followers that's absolutely insane and i love each and every one of you <333

You hated court days.

It didn’t happen that often, usually, local police or FBI field offices were more than capable of taking care of cases after the BAU left, but sometimes team members were called in as expert witnesses.

This time, you were called in as an expert witness. It was a rough case, all of the victims were around your age, and the one surviving victim was in the courtroom too.

You never spoke about it, but sometimes it was easier for you to have faith that the survivors would get the help they needed. It was easier for you to move to the next case so that you wouldn’t have to ruminate over someone else’s pain. Today you needed to put yourself back into that case, back to two months ago when you were sat in front of families and telling them their children were gone.

And you’d need to go back tomorrow, the court didn’t come to a decision today.

Stumbling over your own feet, you dropped your bag on the ground haphazardly before you moved to the couch. You stepped out of your shoes as you did so, promising yourself you’d pick them up once the world stopped crumbling.

There were still hours before Spencer would come home from Quantico. Slowly, you pulled your blazer off and laid it over the arm of the couch before resting your head on the pillows, curling your body in on itself.

It felt like minutes later that the door opened, “Love, did you leave the door unlocked?” Spencer called out, obviously not having seen you on the couch. How long had you been lying there? When you didn’t answer, Spencer wandered around the living room before spotting you on the couch. “Hey,” he murmured, his voice low and comforting. “Are you alright?”

There’s that sort of unnamable feeling where you’re perfectly fine, but the moment someone asks you if you’re fine the floodgates open. That was how you were feeling, and you looked past Spencer as your eyes filled with tears.

“Oh, honey,” he breathed, moving so that he was sitting on the couch next to you, maneuvering your body so that you were leaning on him, depending on him to keep you steady. “Have you been sleeping since you got home?”

You hummed, adjusting so that you were leaning straight back on the couch. “Not sleeping,” you mumbled.

Spencer dropped a soft kiss on your shoulder, “Just thinking?” His voice was still reverent, “Do you want to think out loud?”

Closing your eyes, you shook your head despondently. Honestly, you weren’t even sure you had been thinking at all – you were simply waiting for time to pass.

“What if you go take a shower and put on some comfortable clothes? We can get takeout and watch a movie if you want,” he offered.

You had nearly forgotten that you were still wearing slacks and a blouse, but as soon as Spencer mentioned it, you felt drawn to the idea of washing this entire day off. Silently, you stood up and walked to the bathroom.

Spencer opened the door as soon as you turned off the water, meeting you with a towel that he had just pulled out of the dryer. “Do you feel any better?” He asked, wrapping the towel around you before he tenderly kissed your forehead.

Nodding, you used part of the towel to wipe your face. He left to let you dry yourself off before you walked into your bedroom to get dressed, just to find that he had laid out comfy clothes for you, pajama shorts paired with an old CalTech sweatshirt – your favorite one to steal.

Briefly, you sat on the edge of the bed before the smell of food kindly coaxed you out into the kitchen. “You got pad Thai?”

He nodded while pulling two forks out of the silverware drawer, “It’s your favorite comfort food.” He handed you a fork before setting his down on the kitchen counter, he held a takeout container out toward you, “Pad Thai for your thoughts?”

You smiled softly as you took the container into your hands, “It’s just hard to go back sometimes, you know?”

“Back to old cases?” He asked for clarification, popping the lid off of his container and gesturing for you to lead the way to the couch.

As you walked, you noticed that everything that you had scattered when you got home had been picked up. Your shoes were on the rack by the door, and your bag had been hung on the hooks on the wall. You bashfully mumbled a thank you before sitting down on the couch. “Sometimes I have a hard time believing that we’re helping people. When I see the parents and the husbands, it’s difficult for me to recognize that finding the people who did that to their loved ones is in any way aiding them.”

Spencer nodded understandingly, “Some people find comfort in knowing that what happened to their loved one can never happen to anyone else.”

“But what about the other people? What about the people who are hurting? How do we make sure they’re taken care of?” You rebutted. That was a lot of therapy that a lot of people needed.

Setting his container on the coffee table, he took yours out of your hand and did the same before he dragged you into his lap. He placed his hands on your waist, “Do you want someone else to take your place tomorrow?”

You knew he was offering to go in your stead, but you couldn’t ask that of him. This was part of the job, and if you were lucky you wouldn’t have to go back to court until next calendar year. “No, I’ll be okay,” you reassured him, placing a hand on either one of his shoulders.

Gently, he swept a strand of hair off of your forehead, “You have such a big heart.”

Sighing, you leaned forward so your bodies were flush, resting your chin on his shoulder and wrapping your arms around him.

Momentarily, the two of you remained silent. Spencer gently slid a hand under your sweatshirt, softly skimming his fingers up and down your back.

“I know we do good stuff, but sometimes it doesn’t feel good,” you whispered, wishing there was a way you could speak more eloquently. “If you keep doing that, I’ll fall asleep,” you informed him, your eyes were already beginning to droop as a result of his ministrations.

He just hummed in response, “What do you want to do?”

You pulled away from him reluctantly, “Dinner and a movie.” Climbing off of his lap, you reached for your food again. Watching as he reached for the remote, “Wait, you got to pick last time!”

“Yes, but you’re going to pick The Parent Trap,” he responded. “So, I’ll put it on.”

You slumped back onto the couch, “Just make sure it’s the-“

He had already hit play, “1998 version, I know.”

[sgtgarricks]

˚ʚ♡ɞ˚ i want your hands on me for all my life

simon riley x afab!reader cw: nsfw, angst, happy ending, mentions of simon's abusive past, talks about death, mentions of soap's death, fingering, oral sex (f!receiving), unprotected piv sex, creampie!!, simon lets himself be happy yay

reblogs are immensely appreciated! <3

PREVIOUS PART: your gentle hands are enough

notes: this is the 2nd part for the people that want a happy ending :) this turned out sooo long LMFAO if you want to be sad just pretend this doesn't exist and read the other one! your feedback & comments help <3

Simon had always excelled at compartmentalizing his emotions ever since he was a child.

Growing up with an abusive father and an older brother who has hell-bent on scaring him had forced him to develop self-preservation tactics in order to survive their torment. Dissociating was a daily occurrence in his childhood years — it helped Simon escape the pain and torment that was being inflicted on his body.

Being in the military has not been that different.

He was still dissociating, but he was no longer on the receiving end of thrown punches and insults. He was now the perpetrator inflicting agony on his enemies for the good of the world. To rid the world of filth.

Simon Riley had become the ultimate soldier — lethal, swift, quiet, and was immune to the horrors of war, which was no surprise considering he had spent most of his childhood learning to lock away all the negative emotions. The ability had become innate, bleeding into his daily life and in turn, his relationships.

When Simon walked out the door, he had left all the hurt and sadness in the apartment with you. He trusted you'd keep a part of him safe until he came back and even if he didn't.

Simon had whole-heartedly accepted the risk that comes with the job, fully prepared to lay his life down if it meant a better world than yesterday. In fact, Simon knew death more intimately more than anyone. He'd knocked on death's door multiple times but always seemed to come out alive.

It was easy for him to not think of you. The anxious voice inside his head becomes static as he engrossed himself in the mission. The hard part comes when the dust has settled — when all that remain are cold corpses and bullet casings.

Sitting in the helicopter all bloodied accompanied by the sound of whirring blades wasn't usually bad. It would give him time to sit down and process his emotions. It let him feel the slight guilt that never goes away when taking a life — no matter how rotten.

But with each mission he went on after his abrupt departure, he finds himself constantly ruminating his entire reason for not wanting to get into a relationship with you.

Simon had wanted you to move on from him when he died, eventually. Forget the bruised and battered soldier and find someone whole, someone who could be there for you and love you without causing you anxiety every time their phone rang.

He thought himself selfless for trying to spare you, but his entire reason collapses with every mission he comes back alive.

What was his excuse now? What was he protecting you from?

The voices slink back into his mind the moment he gains a moment of peace. Whispers planting seeds of doubt in his mind, feeding on his insecurity and his fears. They're ruthless and persistent.

You don't deserve them. They're too good for you. You're going to leave them one day anyway, why bother?

He feels a tightness in his chest, as if a phantom hand was squeezing his heart that sends pulses of pain through him. His hand shakes slightly, fingers moving absent-mindedly trying to remember the feel of your skin.

"You alright, Lieutenant?" His captain's voice breaks him out of his trance. Simon is slightly startled but doesn't let it show. He merely grunts.

"'M alright."

Silence engulfs them once more. It goes one for one, two, maybe three minutes. It's suffocating. Simon can read people well enough by now that he knows there are questions lingering in the back of John Price's mind.

A part of Simon wishes he'd just spit it out, but the thought of having to explain seemed worse. Instead, Simon settles with a silent huff as the helicopter continues on its designated course.

The second the helicopter landed, Price simply nods at him, trusting him to get his shit together and walks off to his office. Simon does his usual routine, though instead of rushing through the motions, he's intentionally prolonging each action.

Whereas normally he couldn't get out of this place faster, now he almost dreaded the moment he would have to leave. Staying at the base meant monotonous, dull, predictable tasks. Leaving means he has to choose where to go — he has to actively force himself to not drive straight to your apartment despite the fact that every fiber in his being longs to be close to you.

He feels sick, a kind of illness spreading inside of him that only ever felt better when you were around him. A dull ache inside his body that only lights up when you touch him.

He runs a hand to his now damp hair, content with sitting on a sofa in the rec room. Normally, the place would be bustling with recruits goofing around with each other. But one glance at the broodier-than-normal look on the lieutenant's face had created a force field that pushed away everyone as to not get caught in its storm.

Simon doesn't know how long he sits there, half of him trying to convince himself to not come to you. That you don't deserve the broken man with a penchant for violence.

Chuckling lowly to himself, he shakes his head. What kind of demented higher power decided someone as kind as you be plucked and dropped into his sights?

Fifteen minutes went by as he pities himself in the rec room before a shadow in his peripheral vision causes him to look up.

"L.T.," Kyle nods towards him, leaning on the doorframe.

"Garrick." Simon grunts dismissively, not saying anything more. He hops the sergeant will take the hint on his own and leave the miserable bastard to his own devices.

Kyle worries for Simon. The brooding giant seems more miserable than usual — not more than after the incident, but still. Typically, he wouldn't even be able to catch a glimpse of his lieutenant after coming back from deployment. He'd usually opt to disappear from the base in record time.

The fact that he's here now, instead of wherever he usually hangs around, is slightly concerning.

"You alright, L.T.?"

Simon turns to him, slightly annoyed. "Why does everyone keep asking me that? Yes, I'm alright." He huffs. Kyle merely shrugs, unbothered by the icy gaze directed at him.

"Well, seeing as you haven't fucked off from the base yet and it's been," Kyle checks his phone for the time, "Around an hour? I'd wager something is wrong."

Sometimes Simon hated how observant Gaz was. Kyle's always been attentive, even more so now without Johnny's presence. It wasn't a secret that Johnny had been the lieutenant's shadow — always lingering near him, cracking jokes and pulling his leg.

His absence had naturally left a gaping void in Simon, oozing all the pain and hurt that comes with losing a comrade. Simon isn't naive, he knows death comes as a package with being in the battlefield. He's seen his fellow soldiers die, held them as they bled out. It was why he tended to keep to himself. After all, the less people you know, the less funerals you have to go to.

This worked most of the time, anyone who got close to Simon would get his arctic stare and cower off — most of the time anyway. Johnny was a different case. Johnny was a little bit of a nutcase to be honest. A talented, bright, pyromaniac, the youngest ever to pass SAS selection, with an arsenal of jokes in his pockets. The blue-eyed Scotsman got along quickly with Kyle, bantering with each other easily as if they had been long-lost friends.

While Johnny still had reservations about dicking around with the captain, he didn't seem to have the same problem with Simon. Seemingly happy to chatter off in his ear about anything, whether it was about shitty food, a lady he picked up from a bar, or jabs directed at Simon.

Johnny's bright disposition put Simon on edge. He wasn't used to seeing someone not be terrified of him. No matter how many glares he sent him, the bugger wouldn't leave him alone. Johnny would continue to go out of his way to talk to Simon, to sit next to him during lunch, and sometimes, Johnny would even manage to get Simon to open up just a little.

"What's on yer mind, L.T.?" Johnny nudged Simon with his elbow. The two men were both sat at the bar, the TV playing an old recording of a football match. It had taken Johnny ten minutes to convince Simon to go out for drinks and he planned on taking full advantage of it.

Johnny had been talking non-stop for around five minutes about his sister who had just gotten married, waiting for a reaction from Simon who seemed distracted. His eyes had strayed to the other side of the bar a few times, barely noticeable to the untrained eye, but Johnny was anything but.

"Nothin'." Simon had grunted, tearing his gaze away. A giant smirk plastered itself onto Johnny's face.

"Ah, been starin' at the sad one across the bar, aye?" Seeing Simon's eye widen a little had made Johnny even more gleeful. "Go on then. Ye have my full permission to ditch me tonight." He teased, winking at his lieutenant.

"Don't know what you're talking about, Johnny." Simon had denied instantly, taking a sip of his drink. A normal person would have left it at that, but Johnny wasn't your average person. He loved starting fires and Simon was a flame he wanted to see lit.

"Ach, come on L.T. what's the harm, eh? A little bit of flirting never hurt anyone." Simon didn't know this but Johnny wasn't going to let this go. It was the first time Johnny had ever seen Simon show interest in someone and he'd do anything to get Simon to at the very least, talk to them.

"They're a civvy, Johnny. Not gonna take any chances." Simon shook his head adamantly.

"That's bollocks! All we do is take risks anyway, at least on this one the worst that could happen is getting a drink thrown in yer face." Johnny chuckles, peering at the person across the bar who was clearly nursing a broken heart. Simon still made no move to get up from his chair.

Praying to whatever God was listening, Johnny hoped Simon wouldn't kill him after what he was going to do. Calling over the bartender, Johnny slid the man a fifty.

"Mate, give 'em a refill yeah? Tell 'em it's from the big bloke over here." Johnny signaled the bartender. Simon, who had finally processed what Johnny was doing, couldn't even get a word in. The bartender hastily took the money and went back to his station, ignoring Simon's call.

Simon could only watch in despair as the bartender presented the drink and pointed towards Simon. He received a shy smile, a mouthed 'thank you', and an expectant look.

"Now you've got to go there, mate. Otherwise you'll look like an arsehole!" Johnny threw his arms up, grinning triumphantly. The sergeant crossed his arms and wiggled his eyebrows.

Simon could've easily ignored Johnny and went back to his drink. But a part of him couldn't deny that he wanted to go over there and maybe talk to someone else that wasn't Scottish for a change. Against his usual logic, Simon decided to stand up from his chair.

"You're an arsehole." A glare was sent Johnny's way, although it had no weight behind them. As Simon began to walk away, he could hear Johnny laughing loudly.

"Yer welcome!"

Simon had never told Johnny you were the person who had been texting him during deployment, but he knew deep down that Johnny already knew. He'd asked multiple times, even tried sneaking a look.

He simply didn't want to admit that Johnny forcing him to talk to you that day had shifted Simon's world. He wished he told Johnny.

"We all miss him, L.T." Kyle's soft voice spoke again. He's closer now, dragging a chair from a table and sitting in front of Simon. Kyle knew he could never fill the giant void that Johnny left, but he felt a sense of responsibility to at least try. Price had become more closed off after his death whereas Simon had slowly been unraveling, little stitches coming loose a day at a time.

"All we can do is make sure it's not in vain." Simon sighs, hearing Kyle's words, knows he's right. That he can't go back to expecting the worst all the time, constantly on edge.

Johnny had breathed life into his ghostly presence, bringing Simon back into the realm of the living. The more Johnny got out of the lieutenant, the more people were able to see that Simon wasn't merely a visage, a ghost roaming the hallway. That he was a real person.

He was throwing away his chance at a second life. Perhaps it was also a twisted way of Simon punishing himself. If he couldn't save Johnny, couldn't save the man who managed to get him to talk to you, then he didn't deserve you. It was a round-about way of him trying to mend off the guilt eating away at him that had inadvertently claimed another victim.

"Thank you, sergeant." Simon stood up. Clapping his hand on Kyle's shoulder.

I see you.

"Don't mention it, sir."

The drive to your house takes around twenty minutes, which means that's all the time Simon has to try and figure out a way to atone for his sins.

They're too gracious to even hold a grudge against you. A small part of Simon tells him. While he hopes that's true, he still wants to apologize and acknowledge how unfair he's been to you. If not to make you feel better, at the very least it will ease his conscience.

He drums his finger on the steering wheel, the radio turned on but on low volume. For once, Simon wishes he had Johnny's ability to get out of problems with his alluring words and his kicked-puppy look.

Lost in his own thoughts, he hadn't even realized he's been sitting in his parked car for a few minutes. He clasps his hands when he realizes they're shaking. God, he was so terrified. Not of you, no. He was scared of having to see what he's done to you. Is terrified of really seeing the carnage Simon Riley had tore in you.

He lets out a bated breath and opens the car door. He knows you're home by now, probably cooking away while listening to some indie band. Resting his head on your door, he braces himself once more, and knocks.

He waits, the seconds feeling like hours. The door swings open and he sees your surprised face.

"Simon." You compose yourself immediately, not wanting to show any sort of weakness in front of him. Something twitches on the corners of his mouth hidden by the balaclava. As if realizing he's still wearing it, he takes it off.

"Can I come in?" He asks timidly, as if approaching a wounded animal. He had no idea how you'd react after him being gone for so long. Even during his three month deployments, he'd sometimes text you once every fortnight. But after the way he left things, he couldn't bring himself to message you at all. Couldn't even stomach the thought of you still pining over him after what he had done. It was easier for him to simply block your number. Photos of sunsets and coffee cups gathering dust in his photo album, unsent.

You didn't even think about it, your body unconsciously moving sideways to let him in. A part of you screams at yourself.

Idiot, show some dignity.

It had been so easy for you to let the man who had left you for six months without a word back into your apartment, into your life.

You felt like an addict. Constantly begging for your next fix and taking whatever scraps are thrown your way. It's pitiful, but you're too far gone, anyway. His dirty boots make contact with your hardwood floor, leaving small specks of mud on them. Simon notices the frown marring your face and begins to unlace his boots.

"Sorry." He apologizes, neatly tucking away his muddy boots at the side of your door. You close the door behind him, making your way towards your kitchen. The plate clatters loudly in the sink as you haphazardly put them away, clearly rattled.

Simon coughs slightly, words stuck in his throat. He'd prepared a small speech earlier yet all the words seem to escape him. All the courage he had mustered for his little speech all had but disappeared into thin air. He feels out of his depths, not used to being vulnerable.

"What are you doing here, Simon?" Your voice sounds so tired. He supposes he was to blame for that.

"Can we talk?" He sends you a pleading look, hoping you still felt a sliver of the love you used to harbor for him — the only thing stopping you from kicking him out.

"Oh, so after blocking me and radio silence for six months you've decided you want to talk?" The bitterness seeps into your words like venom. He can't even make himself physically recoil from the sharp edge of your tone. Simon can feel the thin rope right beneath his feet, one wrong step and he'd be falling off the edge.

He takes a deep breath. "I deserve that."

"Oh, you deserve more than that Simon Riley. I should kick you out right now." You were huffing now, going slightly red in the face. Had he not been so anxious he might've thought you look cute. But right now? He was downright terrified.

"Just-" Simon pinches his nose bridge, calming himself down. "Let me speak for a moment, yeah? After that if you want me to leave, I'll leave." He holds both his hands up.

You were livid, rightfully so. The man you love had essentially decided he didn't want to communicate with you anymore, breaking your heart. The first week you thought maybe something had happened to his phone, broken it maybe?

As the weeks turned into months, the realization dawned on you that he had purposefully blocked you, cut off all contact. At first there was only sadness. You spent your days crying into your blanket, some days barely functioning. The hurt and betrayal had emotionally drained you. Did all those years mean nothing to him?

You knew he had a hard time expressing his emotions, but never in your wildest dreams did you think he would throw you away just like that. Like you were nothing more to him than a good fuck. Despite your head telling you otherwise, the emotional baggage he had left you with didn't leave much option.

It was easier to hate him than to accept maybe he didn't love you at all.

You spent the first few months cursing into the wind hoping it'd somehow hurt him a fraction of how much he hurt you. Afterwards, the pain became a lingering , dull ache, but not debilitating anymore. It became a constant that you carry everyday.

Kicking him out the door was tempting, but you knew it wouldn't do you any good. If anything, the words left unsaid would become a leech — slowly draining away your curiosity until you eventually leave another voicemail.

You give him a pointed stare before sitting down on the couch. Simon slowly approached you, wanting nothing more than to sit next to you but choosing to sink into the other side of the couch. He sees you cross your arms, feeling more uncomfortable by the second.

"I jus' wanna say that I'm sorry." He stares into your eyes, slouched with elbows on his thighs. Seeing your mouth thin into a line, Simon knows he's going to have to do a lot better.

"When Johnny died..." Your eyes widen, arms slacking slightly. He'd talk about Johnny sometimes but sometime ago had entirely stopped mentioning his name altogether. You had suspected something terrible had happened but you didn't want to believe it.

"I was so angry. It's not fair. He was so young, had his whole future ahead of him. Told me he was gonna see his sister's newborn on his next leave." He breathes out, clenching his fists.

"All of that, gone. We haven't even caught the bastard yet." Simon runs an exasperated hand through his face. Your arms were no longer crossed, choosing to fiddle with the edge of your shirt. You wanted to comfort him so badly, wanted to take him into your arms and tell him everything's going to be okay. But he was still pouring his heart out and you wanted to greedily snatch every piece he was willing to give.

"I had constant nightmares for months. Sometimes, I still do. You're just a heavy sleeper, I suppose." He chuckles and catches the way the edge of your mouth turn up.

"It's never easy, losing someone. It changes you. I used to hear his nonsense almost everyday and now it's just not there. I'm terrified one day it'll be like he was never there at all." Simon looks away, blinking tears away.

"But he was there. I know that. I felt him. He was like the fucking sun, but instead of being 150 million kilometers away, he's next to my ear with his Scottish nonsense." Simon chuckles bitterly, reminiscing the times when Johnny had to translate his gibberish.

You stay quiet, letting him speak freely. You had a feeling where this was going and how Johnny's death had indirectly impacted your relationship.

"If I died tomorrow, would you be okay?" His question catches you off guard. It was a question you've pondered a thousand times before, and every time you only ever came up with one answer.

"No." You answer honestly, because you'd break either way. Whether it was tomorrow or a year from now. You can feel a part of Simon in your bloodstream that if he died, some part of you would die with him.

"I only ever wanted you to be okay." He straightens, testing the waters by moving closer to you. You let him.

"Would you prefer if I never loved you at all?" Your heart was thumping loudly in your chest you worried he could hear it.

"No." His answer was immediate, as if he'd never been as sure before. "Not selfless enough for that."

"Then are you selfless enough to accept that I would want it to hurt?" You put your hand on top of his, gently grasping them within yours. Simon feels the broken pieces of him mending together.

He's quiet, not sure how to respond. He didn't use to understand why people would put themselves on the line, but he's starting to.

"If you died, I'd want it to hurt. I'd want it to take my breath away. I'd want it to keep me awake at night. I'd want every single bone in my body to ache when you're gone, because that would mean I have loved you with all of me."

You don't realize you'd started crying. There was no distance anymore between you and Simon. His thigh pressed against yours as you clutch his hand to your chest.

"I want it to hurt so badly, because I want to love you deeply." Tears were streaming freely down your face you couldn't even stop them even if you wanted to.

"Simon, will you let me hurt for you?"

And he lets you.

"Okay." His hand go to engulf your frame, but you had thrown yourself at him before he managed to. Simon can feel his shirt getting wet, he'd never thought he'd be slightly happy over the fact that you were crying.

Everything's going to be okay.

Your head was now on his collarbone, his palm gently holding you there. You feel a kiss on the top of your head as he strokes it.

Neither of you know how long you simply cried on him, much less when you ended up on his lap. When he heard you stop — tired from the energy you exerted, he slowly rearranges his body so that you are able to lie fully on top of him. His sore back is the last thing on his mind as he sees your peacefully sleeping away.

A pounding headache eventually woke you. You weren't sure if last night really happened or if your mind had conjured a scenario where Simon came back for you. However, the sweltering heat you feel on your midsection proves otherwise.

He really was here.

His eyes were closed, seeming to be asleep. You test the waters, placing your palm on the left side of his face. A hand immediately darts towards your hand and keeps it there.

"Put some pills on your nightstand for the headache." He murmurs, eyes still closed. His face turns slightly, placing a kiss on your palm. Even after half a year away, he still knows you like the back of his hand.

Leaning in, you give him a peck on the cheek. As much as you want to drink in the sight of him, there were more pressing matters at hand. You need the reassurance. You need him to tell you he wasn't going to abandon you again.

"Simon, did you mean it?" You can't get the entire words out, can only hope it was enough to convey your tumultuous emotions. His heart aches that you don't believe him, but he understands.

"I love you, sweetheart." Soft lips descend upon your own, barely brushing.

"'M here to stay as long as you want me here." He sneaks a hand under you, pulling you closer to him. There isn't any part of you that's not connected to him in some way.

He was so warm, scorching you inside out. You wanted his flame to burn every inch of your skin. When he left, everything felt cold to the bone, your life turning into muted blues and grays.

Simon brought warmth into your life, with his little acts of service. With the little trinkets he brings back after deployment because it reminded him of you. With his gentle hands, gentle kisses — his gentle self.

"I love you, Si." You whisper, grabbing him by the neck and lowering your lips onto his. Brushing softly, you were going to pull away when Simon lets out a moan. Heat builds inside of you as you slip your tongue inside his open mouth. He grunts in surprise, holding you still for a second. But you're impatient.

"Need you." You whine, "Want you so much, Si."

"Yeah?" He mumbles against your lips, running his hands through your hair gently.

"Thought I'd be in the dog house much longer than that, love." He teases you. Simon yelps slightly when you retaliate by biting on his lower lip. He grips both your cheeks with his fingers, pushing you away from him.

"That wasn't very nice of you, hmm?" He gently shakes your head, grinning handsomely. "Think you need a little lesson in being nice, sweetheart. Lucky for you, I'm an excellent teacher." He leans in and kisses your puckered lips, working his way downwards.

His hands wander everywhere, working themselves underneath your shirt. You feel goosebumps rise where his fingertips lay, shivering under his hold.

"Missed you so much, Si. Please." Your moans echo throughout the room. He's holding your thighs together as he trails down your body as you writhe.

"Missed you too, love. Fuck, missed you so fucking much." He manages to say. He cups your ass as he mouths at your panty-covered mound. Your juices seep through the fabric, making Simon groan.

"Mmm.. Someone missed me too." He runs his tongue up and down your slit as you cross both your legs behind his neck. He felt you clench your thighs and he feels blood rushing downwards. Turning his head slightly to the right, he nips lightly at your inner thigh.

He'd barely touched you but here you are already begging for it. Simon Riley has you wrapped around his finger and it scares you a little how much of a hold he has on you. You had bared your neck so openly for him and he had bit down the first chance he got.

"Will you let me take care of you, love? Make you feel good." He hums, fingers trailing along your inner thigh waiting for permission. You nod fervently before realizing he can't see you.

"Yes, yes, yes. Need you to take care of me, Si." Your heart was beating fast out of anticipation.

"Yeah? I'll make you feel good, baby." He coos at you as his fingers slowly pull down your panties. Strings of your juices were sticking to the insides. He threw them aimlessly, eyes zeroed in on your wet pussy.

His finger runs through your folds, making squelching noises. "All this for me, hmm?" He tilts his head up, pinching when you don't reply immediately. The sudden sensation makes you whimper.

"All for you, Si. Just for you." You were panting heavily as Simon sucks your clit into his mouth and licks in a circular motion. You thread your fingers in his hair, not tugging harshly.

Simon laps at your pussy like a starved man, burying his entire face in your warmth. He moans between every few licks, the taste of you dazing him. Your eyes glaze over as you see the man you love pleasuring you with earnest. He continues for a while, alternating his focus between your bud and your folds.

When you tug at his shirt impatiently, Simon grunts. He gets up and throws his shirt over his head. Not one second after it's off, you begin to paw at him, desperate to feel every inch of him.

Simon thinks he's never seen such a beautiful sight. Your hair was messy from your movements, eyes hazy as he can feel goosebumps on his body where you stare. He grabs your face and kisses you desperately, his tongue exploring every inch of your mouth. His clothed bulge was grinding messily against your wet pussy as his boxers begin to darken from the wetness.

Simon's whimper fill the room when he feels you grinding upwards to rub yourself on his cock. He pulls from your lips with a string of saliva. Not waiting for him, you scramble to take off your shirt, baring your tits to him.

His eyes drink in the state of you greedily, one hand groping your tits as the other travels down to your pussy. You were beyond wet enough for his cock, but he's determined to make you cum on his fingers first.

Two fingers slip into you gently. The stretch catches you off guard, it's been a while since you've had his thick fingers probing inside you. His fingers were thrusting shallowly as you grind on his palm.

"Fuck, Simon. Feels so good." You babble, barely able to keep your eyes open, the pleasure overwhelming your senses.

"Yeah? Gonna make you feel even better." With that, his fingers thrust deeper into you, massaging your spot. Your back arches as Simon plants his face on your chest, sucking on your nipples.

He crooks his fingers slightly as he continues thrusting, his palm touching your clit with each time. You couldn't stay still anymore, moving your hips back to meet his thrusts.

The room was filled with wet, squelching noises and your combined moans. Your hands were gripping his bicep, feeling the large muscle flex under your fingertips.

His thick fingers continue his ministration as you begin to climb higher and higher. Your walls begin to pulse and constrict his fingers. Sweat drips down his forehead as he continues to drive into your pussy with his deft fingers.

"You gonna cum on my fingers, love?" He teases, placing kisses all over your damp face.

"Yes, oh fuck. Please, please let me cum."

Simon grins against your neck, placing sloppy kisses all over. His fingers begin to speed up even faster, hitting your sweet spot with every effort. You feel the familiar tingling sensation begin to build in your core.

Your legs begin to tremble as you struggle to get air inside of your lungs. Panting harshly, you close your eyes as your orgasm starts to reach its peak.

His hand leaves your tits as they begin to rub circles on your clit. The combined assault on your clit and your pussy brings you over the edge.

"Look at me when you cum." Your eyes open immediately as you find him staring directly into yours. Your legs tremble deliciously, hands gripping Simon even tighter as you feel your orgasm wash over you. Mouth agape, your back continues to arch as Simon doesn't stop, overstimulating you with a few shallow thrusts.

Simon's hand was covered in your juices as he slowly withdraws them. Your pussy clenches, feeling empty. He brings his fingers to your mouth and taps your lips. Obediently, you open your lips and let him slide his fingers inside your mouth.

Circling your tongue all finger, your eyes begin to close again. When you blink them open, you see Simon's bare body hovering above yours. His cock was standing proudly, shiny with precum. You feel the urge to take his cock into your mouth. When your hand tries to reach for him, it's stopped by his firm grip.

"Next time, yeah? Need to fuck your pretty pussy, baby." He slowly pulls his fingers out of your mouth, wiping them on his hip. He repositions his cock at your pussy, sliding the head up and down your folds.

Tilting your head down, you see Simon's hand grip his cock firmly as it slowly rubs his precum all over your pussy. He groans seeing your juices mix together. Moving your hips upwards, you try to push his head in and he hisses.

He grabs your hips and gently lowers them on the bed. "You just lay there and take it, yeah? Let me do all the work." You preen, more than happy to lay there and see him move above you.

"Put it in, Si. Missed your cock so much." You whimper, pressing delicate kisses on his neck. He nudges your nose with his, capturing your lips into a kiss. Your moan gets interrupted by your own grunt of surprise as the head of his cock slips in.

His cock was thicker than his two fingers, with veins running all over the shaft rubbing your walls deliciously. You link your legs behind his waist, helping him push deeper.

When he's inside you, it's like two pieces of puzzle fitting together. His cock fit so perfectly inside you, as if you were made for him and him for you. You knew Simon was it for you a long time ago, falling head over heels so easily for the grumpy soldier. You weren't happy at how long it took him to come to his senses, but you're glad either way.

He thrusts slowly, going deeper with each shift of his hips. His tongue tangles with yours as wet noises fill the room. You know when he's pushed in to the hilt when you feel him bump against your cervix slightly. Your pussy clenches at the tiny pain, causing Simon to moan out.

"Fuck, you're squeezing me so well, sweetheart." He stays there for a moment, grinding his cock inside. You only stop kissing when you pull away to beg him to start moving. Both his hands are placed firmly on your hips when he begins thrusting.

He moves back and forth slowly, the walls of your pussy feeling every drag of his big cock. You hiss against his mouth, the sensation lights up every nerve in your body. You beg him to go faster but he ignores you, continuing to sink slowly.

When you're about to wail at the pace again, he thrusts sharply — his cock sinking deep into your pussy. You gasp, clawing his back when he continues to move slowly but going deep with each thrust. You can hear the sound of his balls smacking against your ass.

Your combined juices were dripping out of your pussy, causing wet noises whenever he moves inside you. You don't know how long he continues his brutal motion, your eyes dazed and breath unsteady.

You've never felt this way before. It feels as if he's everywhere inside you, there isn't a part of you that doesn't feel touched by him. He thrusts as if he's trying to imprint himself in you, trying to permanently leave a mark.

"Such a pretty pussy. Doing so well f' me, sweetheart. You gonna let me cum in you? Gonna let me fill you up nicely?" He grunts, his composure starting to unravel. His cock begins to piston in you messily as he loses himself in your pussy.

"Yes, yes, yes. Fuck, love you so much, Si. Need your cum in me." You cry out desperately, tightening your legs and pulling him deeper inside you.

"So good to me, love. Letting me cum in your pretty pussy." His form begins to shake slightly from exertion. You know his hands were going to bruise your hips from how hard he was gripping them but you couldn't care less.

Your body moves up and down from the force of his thrust. His cock touching your cervix with each delicious thrust. Your pussy begins to pulse wildly on his cock as you feel another orgasm build inside you. When his cock begins to pulse, your eyes roll to the back of your head as it sends you over the edge. You moan out his name loudly, pulling him by the neck to your chest as his arms hug you to him.

You feel his desperation and love when he holds you. He hugs you so tight to him your ribs ache. You never want this feeling to go away.

"I love you so much, fuck." Your orgasm triggers his own, his cock pulsing as his creamy load fills up your pussy. He's so snug inside your pussy the excess cum begins to drip out. When he stops unloading inside you, he moves slowly, thrusting a few times shallowly. A part of him wants to look at the way his seed drips from your pussy but he didn't want to move away from you.

You both pant with eyes closed as your breathing begins to even out. Simon slowly pulls out and you hiss at the feel of his cock leaving you empty. You look down and see his cock covered in his cum and yours.

Your head falls back down to the pillow, eyes closing shut. Simon stares at the ceiling and huff, righting himself. You feel him plant a kiss to your forehead as the bed dips.

"'M gonna go clean us up, yeah? You stay there." You hear him step into the bathroom, going to wash himself and grab a clean towel to clean up your mess. By the time he came back, you had already passed out, judging by the sound of your low snores.

He begins to wipe your thighs and try to dry the surrounding areas as best he can. He'll change the sheets later when you're well-rested. Simon climbs into bed, hugging you to him. He runs his fingers through your hair, slowly unknotting them one by one.

He stares at your sleeping from and grins. Lowering his lips to yours, he keeps them there for a few seconds.

"I love you."

You can only mumble in response, too tired to properly articulate the words.

"I love you too, Simon."

[islandofsages]

Hi, can I ask the dorm leaders with a student (male) who is extremely good in all academic subjects, ranking among the top 5 in the test rankings, but is extremely stupid in all other factors, for example if someone tries to bully with him, he had politely asked the person to apologize.

characters: the housewardens x male reader

tags: platonic, fluff + crack, imagines format; azul mention in riddle's, riddle mention in azul's, jamil mention in kalim's, vargas mention in vil's, ortho mention in idia's

warnings: alarming stupidity nothing

author's notes: this is such a fun prompt omg i love dumbasses

Riddle Rosehearts

He finds your grades quite impressive - though you can’t cut through his and Azul’s rankings, you manage to land the third place at least

He admires and respects your diligence in studying; if you’re a Heartslabyul student, he’ll consider you a great candidate for the seat of housewarden (or at least vice position)

But then he stumbles upon you one day doing… something? What are you doing?

You’re… crouching in front of a bug. Okay well, maybe you’re studying it

Upon closer inspection though, it looks like you’re… crying? Are you mourning??

The bug’s not even dead. It’s just lying down. You’re seriously mourning a bug that’s actually alive.

He doesn’t want to think it nor does he actually believe you’re like this. But he feels you’re being really stupid at the moment

Then he thinks that again. When you’re doing another stupid thing. Yet you continue to dominate the class rankings

He’s confused. Really confused. 

He stops doubting the duality of man because of you.

Leona Kingscholar

He thinks you’re not half-bad for a herbivore (or well, if you’re a beastman, good for you too)

If you’re a member of Savanaclaw, he’s grateful to have one more guy who can contribute to the decreasing of the dropout rates

That is, until he sees you being cornered by what seems to be a group of bullies

He sighs tiredly at the thought of having to break up a fight again and walks over to you guys, fully expecting you to be in some kind of trouble

But… you’re scolding the bullies instead? And they actually seem apologetic

Did you really ask a group of bullies to apologize for trying to bully you?

He’s unsure if you’re the oblivious one here or the bullies; you’re supposed to feel victimized. Or maybe the bullies are so bad at bullying they don’t affect you in the least??

He doesn’t know what to make of this. But he supposes as long as you don’t make any trouble for him, he doesn’t give a damn

Then he sees more bullies try to get you to give up your wallet to them

Okay, maybe he’ll give at least two damns.

Azul Ashengrotto

A worthy contender to his and Riddle’s rankings? People like you don’t just come by every day

Definitely considers you a valuable asset of some sort… or at least a valuable friend!

So of course, he’d like to interview you on how you got to this level, definitely no other ulterior motives at all

You two sit down in the Mostro Lounge one day, everything is pleasant and comfortable, and you’re just chilling. He starts with a simple question: how do you study to get such good grades?

You ruminate the question for a minute, thinking hard, when you eventually come to the conclusion

“I mean. I just study like the normal person does. Five minutes before the exam itself, I’ll run through whatever notes I have.”

…What?

He’s not sure if you’re actually really stupid to study five minutes before an exam or really smart that you can ace exams with just five minute study sessions

He continues to interview you and he discovers more about how much of a dumbass you actually are but he endures it just for the sake of knowing your actual secrets

You better watch your back.

Kalim Al-Asim

He looks up to you so much, he practically begs you to tutor him so he doesn’t bother Jamil as much 

So you do, just for the hell of it and maybe because of the money too

And it works! He’d come running to you, excitedly showing you his grades from the last exam and you’re genuinely proud of his improvement

He likes running up to you either way - and one day when he does, he runs into you… reading a book upside down?

“Oh, hey Kalim. You know, I found this book one day and I thought I’d give it a read but I can’t understand a single thing…”

He wants to say something. Specifically about you reading said book the wrong way (literally)

…But what if you’re right? Maybe it is meant to be read upside down and you’re just not understanding it because it’s in some ancient language?

You two go to Jamil for once since he seems to be as proficient, if not more, in ancient magic than the both of you

You were excited at the idea that there’s still new stuff out there you have yet to discover

Needless to say though, your excitement dies the moment Jamil finishes listening to your explanation and you two become the victim of his two-hour lecture.

Vil Schoenheit

You’ve gained his respect. A rare honor from the Fairest Queen himself, you think

He would consider you an equal… if it weren’t for the fact of, well, you’re pretty oblivious in literally everything else

He’ll never forget the day where your natural stupidity outshone your class ranking… because it involved Vil himself

You were in a joint PE class together (or if you’re classmates then just a regular class) and it gave both of you the opportunity to talk to each other a bit

It’s a nice little conversation until you say-

“Also… what’s Vargas’ last name anyway?”

Vil blinked once. Then twice. What did you just ask him?

Vargas. Is the last name. His full name is Ashton Vargas. It’s pretty common knowledge considering how much the guy himself says it. He relays that information to you

You let out a dragged out “Oh” and nodded understandingly. Oh, you were being genuine.

Now he doesn’t want to assume from just one interaction but every other interaction with you just proves his point - and the thing is he actually finds it kind of amusing.

Idia Shroud

Wow, someone who’s almost as prodigious as he is, how impressive (he’s being half-sarcastic, half-genuine here)

It is somewhat difficult to find some intelligent life in NRC sometimes. But then you end up being one of them anyway (yet also not really?)

Like you’re always in the top 5 when it comes to exams but then he sees you doing stuff like what you did yesterday…

He was outside for once, taking a walk since Ortho insisted, and he bumps into you on the main street

He didn’t think twice about what you were doing; you were merely staring up at the King of Beast’s statue, finger under your chin, eyes squinted. It’s obvious you were deep in thought

Until he walked by you, hearing you talk to yourself

“...What kind of animal is he anyway? A cat? A tiger?? A panther???”

??? Is it not obvious???

He debated on actually telling you what kind of animal the King of Beasts was but… somehow it’s funnier to leave you in the dark like that

He’ll never get over how you keep calling the King of Beasts a panther, mainly because it riles the Savanaclaw students up.

Malleus Draconia

You’re a curious little thing to him - he wonders how you’ve come to know so many things

Or at least, seem so… you may ace your exams but he comes to notice that it’s not consistent across all boards

He just got back from touring Ramshackle’s exterior for the umpteenth time when he sees you chilling in the Diasomnia lounge

You are talking to another student, which is normal and all, but your response makes him do a double take

“I just think they shouldn’t put mushrooms in mushroom soup! And not make it taste like mushrooms! It just has to look and feel like thick soup!”

But… those are what make mushroom soup… mushroom soup.

He doesn’t even feel that strongly towards mushroom soup! Why is he trying to defend mushroom soup??

It’s not outright stupid but… it certainly is a bold take that could be a pipeline to be dumb

Malleus tries not to judge; you have your qualities and flaws that make you special

But when you bring your complaint to the cafeteria staff, that’s where he draws the line and stops you for the sake of everyone’s sanity.

[dotster001]

The Queen Rises Again, a For Tuna End

Part One Part Two Part Three Choose another ending

You hadn't seen much of Vil, recently. And anytime you went to visit him in Pomefiore, he was always “busy” and refused to even open his door to you.

At first you had been frustrated, but you were starting to get worried. Rook and Epel had assured you everything was fine, Vil was just going through a phase of sorts, but that didn't ease your anxiety. For seven's sakes, what kind of “phase” could Vil Schoenheit be in?

It was on another evening that had you ruminating on this idea, that Grim sighed heavily next to you.

“Oh, Grimmy, when did you get in?”

He stared at you for a moment, before scowling. “I've been sitting here, sighing heavily, for ten minutes.”

“Oh, sorry bud. What's wrong?”

“Oh, it's nothing.”

You stifled a groan. No one saying what was wrong with Vil was already weighing on you, the last thing you needed was another person to not tell you what was wrong. You weren't good at the guessing games.

“Grim, if you don't tell me, I won't know how to help you.”

“Don't get snippy with me! I'm in distrust!”

“Distress?”

“Exactly!”

He pouted, and crossed his tiny kitty arms, turning away from you with a “hmph”.

You steadied yourself, and forced a calm tone, gently scratching behind Grim's ears.

“What's wrong, bubbas?”

Grim sighed forlornly. “I've just been…thinking.”

You very much doubted that. That was the joke you'd have made if he wasn't so forlorn.

“About what?”

"About how I can't be everything you need.”

“Sorry?” You fought back a confused laugh.

“Look, I am the Great Grim! I bring joy and color to your life as the beloved roommate/son that you always longed for! But even I can't be everything a human needs…”

You quirked an eyebrow, and he scowled. “I can't give you romance. What I'm implying is that you're gonna die alone.”

“Ouch. Thanks Grim. Definitely could have said that nicer. But isn't the next thing you're supposed to say, “but you don't have to worry about being alone because I'll always be there for you?””

Grim looked at you like you were crazy. “My wife and ten children will be taking up all of my time.”

“Sure Grimmy. But I'm a big kid, I can take care of myself…”

“Sure, sure, I totally believe you. But what if…” he hesitated. “What if I had someone, who I knew was very in love with you, and was positive he could take care of you?”

You choked. “Sorry?”

“He's mad for you,  and I know if you asked him out, he'd say yes!”

“Lord, who would have a crush on me?”

Grim rolled his eyes, and muttered, “it's more likely than you think. Anyway!”

He pushed himself into your lap, cupping your cheeks. “Please Y/N. I'm worried about you, and I need to know that when I'm not with you, you will be okay.”

Your instinct was to say no. But when you looked into his eyes, he looked so sad and earnest, that you released a reluctant sigh, and agreed.

….

“Kay Grimmy, how do I look?”

He looked at the spot you were standing on the steps, and glared.

“Absolutely not. I told you this was a high fashion date.”

“Well, sorry, but this is all the high fashion I have! In case you forgot, we had to spend our entire monthly allowance to pay for a cleaning crew in the lab.”

“It'll have to do,” he sighed wistfully.

You heard a light knock on the door.

“He's here!” He scampered to the door, before looking back at you. “At least get a coat so he can't see the outfit.”

“If he likes me as much as you swear he does, it won't matter.”

Grim rolled his eyes and opened the door, to reveal…

….

Maybe it was just that you hadn't seen him in a long time, but something was different about the way Vil looked. 

“Apple blossom, if you keep staring, I'll get self conscious,” he mused as he delicately rolled some pasta on his fork. Your cheeks burned, and you looked down at your plate.

“I've just been worried about you, that's all.”

“I'm grateful for your concern,” he reached across the table and squeezed your hand, making your heart flutter.

“Have you started a new skin care routine? Your skin seems like it's glowing!” You quickly changed the subject.

“You have a sharp eye! I've been trying some new products, and I think it looks rather good.”

“Yeah…wait! I know what's different!” You sat up straight. “Your hair looks darker!”

He froze. “I don't think so…”

“It definitely looks a shade darker-”

“How about we split a slice of cake for dessert!” He said in a voice louder than you expected, but you nodded.

….

“Would you join me for a moment longer? I need to pick up something at Octavinelle.”

“Yeah, sure.”

He placed your hand in the crook of his arm, and escorted you to the lounge. As you entered, Floyd, Jade, and Azul all looked up, various looks of irritation and shock on their faces. 

“Wait here,” Vil whispered into your ear, and you gave him a nod as he walked over to Azul, who looked positively vexed. You watched him sigh heavily, then walk with Vil to the VIP room.

“So you and betta fish, huh?” A bitter voice asked in your ear, and you nearly jumped out of your skin. The last time your eyes had been on the twins, they had been across the room. And now they were here.

“Uh, yeah.”

“Was it a pleasant evening?”

“You know what? Yeah, actually,” you said with a smile. Maybe it was that you'd been so worried about Vil, and now you'd finally gotten to see her was okay, but you had a great date. You hated to admit that Grim of all people would set you up with someone you enjoyed, and could sort of see a future with, but then again, he knew you better than anyone. Why wouldn't he put thought and effort into finding someone he knew you would love?

“Damn, really? Ugh,” Floyd groaned, slumping against you, nearly causing you to topple over.

“What Floyd means to say, is that if you ever feel he doesn't live up to expectations, or he ever steps out of line, please feel free to discuss it with us,” Jade said with a smile.

“Please, please, please tell us if that happens,” Floyd had buried himself into the crook of your neck, and was now squeezing you tightly.

“I got what I'm here for,” Vil's voice called to you, as he not so elegantly yanked Floyd off of you. With Floyd apart from you, he took your hands in his, and then leaned in and pressed a kiss to your cheek. Over his shoulder, you watched Azul waltz back into the VIP room, and slam the door behind him, with an echoing thud.

“You ready to go, Apple blossom?” Vil asked as though he hadn't just completely reset your brain. You nodded dumbly, and he escorted you out. Over your shoulder, you thought you heard a growl from the twins.

But you couldn't think much about that as you got intoxicated by Vil's warmth and perfume.

The End

Tag list- @stygianoir @leonia0 @lleoll @eccedentesiast-sapphic @supertmntgirl @cxsmicdustdreams @aethermostbeloved @krystalkiller25 @asmallbean3 @theneurodivergentdummy @candlewitch-cryptic @smilingfox22-blog @phantomgaming1920 @the-dumber-scaramouche @noidonothavetimeforthis @bontensbabygirl @xxoomiii @somany-fandoms-solittle-time @bre99 @stupidsimp @sus0daddy @a-small-tyrant @imlost-sendhelp @mizukiblogs @savanaclaw1996 @happycatastrophesworld @murderisokayforme @kazumify @1fandom2many @hamhamlikesyukio @dreamlessnight

[khristie16]

The Fast and Forbidden

Charles is a famous F1 driver with everything one could want: fame, fortune, and fans. But he is missing one thing. Being his new personal assistant changes everything for both of them.

— chapter 3 An unspoken connection builds up and seeing you half naked gives a top to it, right after your date with another guy

warnings: sexual tension, invading privacy (not the intention), charles is chuckling the charles out of him

.........................................................................

I haven't seen Charles for two days. We haven't even spoken. Right after our shared time behind the piano, his brothers came to his apartment to pick him up for the squash that was apparently delayed. I snapped from my sitting position and awkwardly disappeared, resulting in forgetting about the clothes I wanted to laundry. I felt weird. Torn apart. What the hell happened there? I was still overthinking the whole scenery, me and him playing together. Me and my feelings and him and his words. What the hell was he talking about that I am his boat in whatever ocean it was. My frustration grew extremely and I was mad about everything and I did not know where it came from.

After ruminating on the sofa I had bought two days ago at this new and absolutely with nothing in apartment, I had to buy at least few decent things to it. It is not like I care about it much, I'm not gonna stay here for most of the time and I definitely don't call it home. One thing came to my conclusion. I will go on a date. I don't know how or when yet, but I need to go on a date instead of thinking about the weirdfest that is happening between the two of us. What I didn't know though was the fact that Charles ignored me on purpose. He was cursing himself for saying what he said and he didn't know why he said it. It was like that day, that moment he was someone else. He doesn't do these sweet nothings. He isn't like that. And so he ignored YN as much as he could.

On the way to Japan, the ride was quiet. Charles had his AirPods all the time and all I could do was draw some stuff in my notebook. This is actually the only time where my mind doesn't lead. I don't think and that is when I like it the most. That is when I remembered I wanted to go on a date. I decided I will install these trendy apps that are viral nowadays.

''There you have my keys, we are still in separated rooms, but still.''

He nodded in agreement of hoping that I have some common sense and I know what he implies. As I am grabbing the keys from his hands on the corridor in this fancy hotel in Japan, I don't bother to say anything to him. As I turned around to walk to my apartment he said ''I don't need you for today, you have a free time''

I took a deep breath and encouraged myself to go even faster.

Give me your name and I will give you my last name

These guys hereeee. Ugh. Now I remember why I stopped finding my 'match' on these apps. These guys are cringe asf and the only thing they care about is the color of your panties, not your name. I chuckle as I scroll some more on the sofa in the luxurious living room that I roll my eyes at. Anything that reminds me of Charles is annoying. Luxurious cars, clothes and even hotels are annoying because of him. I fumed and threw the phone next to my lying side. My vision goes blur and black as put my hands over my eyes and try to just breathe. Just when I get into the moment, I receive a notification.

It is some guy called Patrick. I looked at his profile and I have to say I was slightly amused. A nice handsome guy, who is appearing normal. I accepted his offer and in one minute I receive his message.

When I saw your face I could not look away:)

I'm not gonna lie, it did flatter me.

Good for you you didn't:)

I'm Patrick. Not from here, as i see you are not from here either I'm YN. I'm just visiting for few days. Better to make it rememberable

I don't know what this guy was but he intrigued me and I accepted to go on a date with him. I put myself together very nicely and went on a date with him. He picked me up in a luxurious car (Charles) and greeted me with a beautiful smile. I had to give him credits for how handsome he is IRL. ''Hello you''

I have to chuckle as I make my finish line to him. ''Well nice to see you too''

I smirk at him and look him in the eyes. Brown eyes. Simple. Nothing complex. Not like Charles's eyes. *(internal grunt)*

''What's wrong?''

He asks me genuinely with frown on his face. I shrug it off with a mild smile that it is nothing, just that I am cold. He raises his eyebrows but don't comment it. Instead he opens the doors for me and I sit down, ready for the adventure of what this date will bring.

The date itself was very nice, a simple dinner with a beautiful view on the city underneath us. Patrick is very casual and calm guy, well mannered and well spoken. There was nothing wrong with him, yet, I felt shallow. I did not feel alive. I thought to it it is because of my shitty mood from earlier. More of someone specific. I checked my phone to see if I am not needed but nothing came.

''I see there is something bothering you''

I lift my gaze and look at Patrick. I give him apologetic smile and take my phone away.

''Just work''

He gives me a knowing smile but he doesn't know it is not the job itself but the person behind it. And I hate myself for letting that happen. I don't want to feel like that, especially with a decent man in front of me. We go back to our conversation and as the time goes by, I finally managed to forget about Charles.

Patrick talked to me about his life, how he started and how it lead him to be where he is now. I genuinely liked to listen to him and it was certain that his guy know what he is doing in life. He has a goal and it appears no struggle take him from it. Unlike me.

When he asks me about my life, I keep it very simple. I don't want to tell him how I lost everything I could, everything I had for the last twenty years known to my life. And there are few things that I am passionate about. one of them are chocolate desserts and so I call for one, to keep the attention from me and my 'old' life.

On our way back to a hotel I stay silent and let my mind wander wherever it wants. Patrick from time to time asked me about something but it looked like he respects my quiet time I need for myself. It is hard to talk when my body is met with so much food to process!

''I know I enjoyed it, I hope you did as well YN''

I smile at him and I cannot lie that it wasn't enjoyable. I give him a light nod with a smile.

He helps me out of the car and then we stand facing each other.

''Can I see you again?''

I look up to his warm brown eyes and melt for a second. They remind me of all those people in my life that I love so much. They are so welcoming. It makes me so vulnerable that I say yes.

I slightly chuckle and keep smiling more to myself than to him. He takes a strand of hair from my face and put it behind my ears.

I see someone familiar on the left and my eyes wander there to see Joris with some other men. My body immediately goes tense and I search for him. But he is not there. Weird.

''You know them?''

I forgot about Patrick at all and my eyes widen at his sudden presence. ''Oh, uhm, yes, they are from work.''

I go back to look at Joris who is watching me closely as well.

''Oh, I see.''

I put my focus back to Patrick and give him a smile. ''Thank you for the date, I enjoyed it.''

He just nodded and kissed my hand with a promising look of a second date.

Right after I left the place in front of the hotel building, I lost track of time and focus on outer world that I just blankly stared on the wall in front of me. As the wall split in a half and opened for me, I blinked from the intrusion and get out from the elevator. I blindly walked to my apartment and opened the doors.

Darkness. Weird, I swear I left the lamp on. As I shrug it off, on my way to the bedroom I semi half get off the dress that were suffocating me the whole time after I ate the delicious chocolate dessert. That is why I get from having a sweet tooth. As I groan with the zipper in my lower back a light hits my senses. I blink many times in order to adjust to the surrounding and when the blurry lines make a form I see Charles staring at me expressionless. I stood there like a thief caught red handed and what gets me moving is his eyes lingering on my exposed chest and stomach.

I immediately cover myself and run to my right, even though I don't know what is there.

''Oh my god, i'm sor-'' ''-I'm sorry, I'm sorry!''

As I lay my back on the wall behind me I struggle to breath as my breathing became shallow. ''I-I thought this is my appartment. I'm so sorry''

All I hear is a chuckle and I frown at the reason for him to chuckle at all! I swear this guy just pisses me off.

''It's okay. What about I give you some space and wait in the corridor?''

I hum back in approval and get back in the dress so I don't walk half naked! With a grunt and victim mindset I get out the bathroom and straight to the door where is Charles waiting. There is a hint of amusement in his eyes and small smirk forming on his lips.

''It's not funny''

He chuckles even more and make few steps to me.

''I have to admit that I am glad I gave you my keys''

I stay watching him closely, with a smirk on his face, with my mouth parted a little at his sudden words and my eyebrows lift up. When I become aware there is silence between us I shut my mouth back again and roll my shoulders back.

''It's not gonna happen again''

I said it more with a threatening undertone and reached for the knob to leave this place. His place.

All I hear on my way out is ''What a shame''

[sailoryooons]

BOONGI REQUEST THE SEQUEL !!! honeymooning with yoongi and your trip is a little too richly scheduled considering how horny you both are.... leads to fucking in some interesting places 🙈

❀ Pairing: Yoongi x f. reader

❀ Summary: Your tropical honeymoon is planned down to the very minute to get the most out of your trip but it seems that Yoongi has plans of throwing off your itinerary every time his hands touch you. 

❀ Word Count: 4,355

❀ Genre: Established relationship, pwp

❀ Rating: 18+ Minors are strictly prohibited from engaging and reading this content. It contains explicit content and any minors discovered reading or engaging with this work will be blocked immediately.

❀ Warnings: Absolutely self-indulgent and gratuitous smut, literally this is the most porn without plot I have ever done, explicit language, explicit sexual content including unprotected vaginal sex, fucking from behind, semi-public fucking, light degredation, oral (m. and f. receiving), riding Yoongi, fucking from behind, face sitting, throat fucking, a lot of cum and spit and holes, Yoongi and reader fuck in public spaces where they cannot be seen a lot, temperature place, use of ice (please do not ever take ice from a random ice bucket and put it in your partners vagina, this is fiction and it was handy but do not do that lmao), cum swallowing and cum eating when you squint. 

❀ Published: August 9, 2023

❀ A/N: This is sort of a part two? You do not have to read the first request to read this one, they are easily read separately. Thanks for giving me an excuse to just write porn. There literally is nothing here but porn, I don’t even know if they have chemistry, but they fucking. Honestly I had to cut scenes out of this because I also imagined the infinity pool moment and so many other moments because M and I are fucking insane and ruminate on this shit, but at one point it was just… getting longer and I was RUNNING OUT OF WORDS FOR DICK AND COCK AND I HATE THE WORD DICK IN SMUT IF FEELS NOT VERY SEXY. Okay. Here is my ode to the love of my life, M. This somehow made me more insane.

❀ Disclaimer: All members of BTS are faces and name claims for this story. This is entirely a work of fiction and by no means is meant to be a projection, judgment or representation of real-life people. Any scenarios or representations of the people and places mentioned in works are not representative of real-life scenarios.

Part One | Masterlist | Ask | Hali’s Happy Agust | Listen Along |

“Come on,” You murmur, lips pressed against Yoongi’s warm forehead. “We have a breakfast reservation at that place we talked about.” 

A deep groan rumbles through Yoongi’s chest. It’s dark in the bedroom of your resort, the lights still off and the sliding glass door window still shuttered. Your newly wed is tangled in white sheets, face pressed against the pillow and swollen with sleep. You bite your bottom lip to hide your smile as he buries his face deeper into the pillow.

It’s tropical warm in the room, your skin still heated from the sun the day before. Yoongi’s cheeks are sun-kissed blossom, bottom lip jutted out as he pouts. You think about the night before, biting that bottom lip hard as you came around him in the shower, cold water pebbling on hot skin. 

Sighing, you climb onto him, knees on either side of his waist as you sit. His chest is flushed and warm as you lean down, dress riding up your thighs as you press your forehead to the side of his head. His hair is messy, an inky halo around him as he lets out a sound again, very close to whining. 

Yoongi smells like coconut shampoo and palm breeze. It makes your stomach flip having him this close to you, flashes of the night before making your already sore thighs twitch. Ignoring your more carnal urges, you nudge him with your nose, huffing. Sliding your hands around to the back of his neck, you thread your fingers through his silky hair, holding him there. 

“Don’t you want breakfast?” you ask, hoping the promise of food will lure him from bed.

Yoongi is fully awake now. “Mhmm.” 

Yoongi frees his hands from the sheets and places them on your thighs, squeezing. His hands are warm and callused, sparking a curl of pleasure in you as he rubs them up and down your legs. It’s an innocent touch, but your thoughts turn devious. 

When Yoongi’s hands trace to the round curve of your ass to grab a handful of flesh, you let out a breathy sound and tighten your grip on his hair. He hisses in appreciation, hips twitching off the bed as you growl, “What are you doing?”

Yoongi turns his head to face you, your foreheads pressed together as he bumps your nose with his. “I don’t need to leave for breakfast,” he murmurs, breath hot against your lips as he talks. His right hand gives you a playful crack on the ass, making you squeak as the sweet sting riles you up, your knees squeezing his waist. “I can eat right here.”

His hands are firm, fingers dimpling your rear end as he pulls you against his stomach and rolls your hips. Your eyes flutter shut at the barely-there friction, Yoongi lifting himself up a little to help you grind against him. 

“Yoongi.” 

The chastisement is nothing more than half of a breath, already feeling arousal curl in your stomach. Your thighs stretch painfully from the night before, a feel-good burn that makes you spread your legs a little wider to feel the pleasurable strain. 

“Come on,” Yoongi grunts. “Girl breakfast.”

“That’s not what that meme means.”

“Who gives a fuck. Sit on my face.”

Ignoring him is impossible. Yoongi’s hands palm your ass, pulling you forward. On unsteady knees, you shuffle up from his waist to his face, lifting the hem of your dress as you go. Yoongi hums appreciatively, slipping a hand between your legs to press his fingers against your clothed pussy. 

“Fuck,” you whisper, the stimulation jolting. “We have an itinerary.”

“Fuck the itinerary. You were going to go to breakfast like this?” he asks, slipping a finger under your underwear, swiping through your dripping folds. “All wet and sticky?” 

You whine, fists tightening in the fabric of your dress. He drags a curled knuckle up and down your pussy, pressing into your clit purposefully as he does, making your hips swivel a little. Yoongi laughs underneath you, mouth hot on your thighs as he leaves sloppy kisses, air cooling his spit on your skin as he goes.

There’s no escaping this. Any desire you had to go to breakfast with a view of the beach is gone as Yoongi nips at the tender flesh of your inner thighs, your legs trembling in anticipation. Yoongi is so good at this, making you bend to his will with just a few words and guiding hands. 

Yoongi’s breath is hot on your center as he peels your underwear to the side. You look down at him, pressing your dress flat to give you the perfect view. His dark eyes are focused on your cunt, his lips bubble gum pink, tongue darting out to wet them. His hair is fanned out around him, some pressed to his forehead. 

Smirking, Yoongi uses one hand to pull you forward, lowering you to his mouth. You hold your breath as he drags his tongue slowly from your leaking entrance to just below your clit before rolling licking back down, ignoring your bundle of nerves entirely. Your toes curl, immediately going white hot at the slow feeling of his tongue dragging through your folds. 

“Oh,” you sigh, eyes shutting as Yoongi hums and repeats the motion, determined to take his time. 

With one hand wrapped in your dress, you lean forward, pressing the other hand against the wall to keep you upright. You hang your head down, heady-heavy, eyes falling shut as you heave shuddering breaths.

Yoongi’s tongue is wicked, laving up and down experimentally as you shake on top of him. He hums appreciatively, pulling you down to his mouth further by your ass. A sharp moan escapes you when he fastens his mouth to you, sucking your clit gently. The suction makes your head spin, your skin over warm and tingling, feeling faint in the dark room.

“Shit,” you pant, listening to him make a mess of you, all wet smacks and happy hums. “Fuck, Yoongi.”

“Mhmm,” he agrees. “Girl breakfast. Or is it wife breakfast?”

You’re too busy rolling your hips gently against Yoongi’s face to shoot something smart back, lost in the rough drag of his tongue against your cunt, the buzz of his mouth when he hums. You feel the way your stomach tightens, the way that pressure in your core builds, the tensing thighs. 

The sweet, saturated sound of Yoongi’s mouth backtracks your whines, your fist pressed against the wall, knuckles popping with the force. Sweat slicks down the back of your neck and your thighs tremble as you fuck his mouth in earnest, hips flexing.

It feels hot in the room, your dress sticking to your skin, panties stretched to the side as Yoongi has his way with you. The strap of your dress falls down, abandoned as you quiver, your shoes and purse long forgotten by the door as you start to come undone.

“Come on,” Yoongi pants against your pussy, tongue prodding your throbbing hole. You squirm at the feeling, wanting more. “Breakfast is supposed to have juice too.”

Your laugh sounds hysteric, closer to a high-pitched cry than anything. Yoongi is vicious, pressing his nose to your clit as his tongue fucks your entrance, drinking you in. You’re dizzy, ears ringing as your orgasm mounts. You start to tense up, teeth clenched, fingers pressed numb against the wall.

Eyes shut, head back, balmy skin, you come hard in his mouth, Yoongi’s tongue pressed against you, not missing a drop. You feel fuzzy drunk, letting Yoongi control your hips. He moves you against his mouth, bobbing his lead as he slurps, dropping staccato mhmms as he goes. 

When you’re falling into his lap, skin sweaty and panting, Yoongi sits up, the lower half of his face shining with your slick. He licks his lips, grinning like the cat that ate the canary. “Thanks for the meal,” he teases. “I want more.”

-

A high-pitched zing whines through the air, drawing your attention to look at the fishing rod on the back of the boat. The reel spins out of control as the line runs wild, handle circling as the fish on the hooked fish runs wild with the line. 

“Yoongi,” you gasp, turning back to him. 

“Fuck the reel,” he growls, fingertips pressing into your hips hard enough throb.

The vinyl cover of the boat seat is slippery with sunscreen, sweat and a little cum. Sun heats your bare back. The burn on your shoulders is nothing to the fiery arousal spooling in your stomach as Yoongi pulls you up by the hips, dragging you along his slick cock.

It’s a calm day on the water, the only motion coming from the way you roll your hips, fucking Yoongi in earnest on the bow of the boat. Blue water glitters around you, reflecting the sun back up toward a cloudless, azure sky.

Salty wind cools the back of your neck as you throw your head back, gasping when Yoongi presses a thumb to your clit, circling slowly. The gentle lapping of the water against the hull is drowned out by the wet slap of your ass on Yoongi’s pelvis, already soaked from your first orgasm.

Your second high blazes through you hotter than the beaming sun. Yoongi growls between gritted teeth, his grip savage as he helps you fuck him. Up down, up down, up down. His chest is flushed and raked with angry red nail marks.

Fishing plans long forgotten, you continue to ride him, the feel of Yoongi’s cock stomach-deep, your walls gripping him tight as you race toward another orgasm. It feels so good, your knees slipping as the boat bobs under you, the up and down motion aiding the way you glide on his dick. 

“Just like that,” Yoongi moans, head tossed back, hair damp and sweaty. He’s worked up, a beat of sweat dripping down his tan neck, jaw flexing as he tries to stop himself from coming. “Use me just like that, baby.” 

And you do, the tip of his dick brushing your g-spot every time you slide down, working your closer and closer until you’re seated in his lap, cock pushed to the deepest parts of you while you come hard around him.

Yoongi waits for you to come down for your high, post-orgasm twitching and panting before he pins you to his chest and holds you while fucking up into you a few more times before he clenches his teeth and comes.

Hot and spent, you both melt into one another, skin sliding against skin as you lay on his chest. He softens inside of you and you become hyper aware of the slide of your mixed juices dripping from your folds and running down your leg. You don’t care, closing your eyes as you inhale deeply.

Eventually, Yoongi lifts his head to peer over your shoulder. You turn around to see that the line has broken on the road and Yoongi laughs, sounding exhausted.

“Fuck it,” he sighs, laying his head back down and tightening his hold on you. “I don’t care.”

-

“My wife is such a little slut,” Yoongi grins, leaning against the sink as you take him further into your mouth. “You love having a mouthful of cock, don’t you?”

Looking up at Yoongi with wide, teary eyes, you hum the affirmative. Dark blush creeps up his neck, his skin visible where the top button of his white shirt is undone. He looks to die for tonight, with his long, dark hair slicked back and just touching his shoulders, a white short-sleeved button up, and dark pants. 

And you? You looked nice earlier, but now your dress is messy with sand from the bathroom floor, mascara running down you face as you swallow around your husbands cock, feeling your throat tighten as you force yourself to the limits. 

You’d at least manage to pay the bill before dragging him into the palm-textured bathroom and dropping to your knees, ignoring the way stray grains of sand from the beachside restaurant burn your knees in favor of taking him into your mouth.

Yoongi slouches against the sink, his shoulders pressed into the mirror as he closes his eyes and angles his head back. You take him further into your mouth, letting spit escape the sides and run down your chin, working what you can’t fit with your hand. Your wedding ring flashes in the low light and drives you mad, loving the way the diamond looks on your hand while it’s wrapped around him. 

You’re ravenous tonight, staring up at him with clenching thighs, watching the way Yoongi unravels. Pulling back, you pop off of him, strings of spit and precum connecting the brown tip of his cock to your lips. You break it, leaning forward to run your tongue along the frenulum of his cock, earning a whine from him.

Grinning, you continue your assault, dragging your tongue down the thick vein on the underside of his cock until you reach his balls, giving a teasing lick that makes his hips cant off the sink.

“Don’t fucking tease me,” he warns. “I fucked you the way you asked for three times today, baby. Don’t I deserve to cum in that pretty little mouth?”

“Yeah?” you ask, pumping him with your hand as you come back up. “Want to come in my mouth?”

Yoongi’s hand shoots to the back of your head, fingers squeezing your skull. It’s not painful, but it’s firm, making you grin up at him, delighted. “Okay then,” you agree, tightening your fist on him a little more, pumping him a little fast. “Fuck my throat.”

You don’t have to tell him twice. Yoongi’s grip on the back of your head stays solid, a comforting feeling as you get a little dizzy from the way he looks down at you, eyes fathomless. Starving. He uses his other hand to prop himself against the sink before he drives his cock into your mouth.

The slide is rough and messy. You flatten your tongue and open up the back of your throat, the sound of you choking wetly around him drowning out the hiss of air between his teeth. You breathe through your nose, your hands gripping his thighs and digging your nails in hard into his flexing thighs.

Absently, you wonder if anyone walking by can hear the gurgle of your mouth, the stilted grunts as he flexes his hips.

Throat burning, eyes stinging and dripping tears, you let Yoongi go wild until he’s coming deep down your throat, a hot and thick mess. He pulls out gently, letting you gasp for air, mouth swollen and sticky as you pant.

Yoongi pulls you up from your knees, holding you tight as you lose your balance. His grip is crushing and he smashes his lips to yours, licking into your mouth to taste the mix of cum and spit, hungry for it.

When he pulls away, his lips are pink and slick and his chest is heaving.

“We’re going to miss that concert I bought tickets for,” you complain, giving him a pout.

“Fuck that concert, we’re going back to the hotel room and I’m going to fuck you for the next three hours, baby.”

-

Admittedly, hiking wasn’t the best event on your itinerary. When you’d planned the adventure originally, you hadn’t accounted for the fact that your legs would be near unusable from days of Yoongi folding you in half to drill into you, or the fact that the jungle is, in fact, hot and humid.

Yoongi walks next to you, his thumbs tucked into the straps of his backpack as he goes. His hair is pulled up into a bun, a few loose strands sticking to his sweaty forehead. He hasn’t complained once since starting the uphill trek through the trees and sifting sand, though you can tell he’s also spent from his inability to stop touching you this entire trip.

But you really want to attempt to get to a single thing on your itinerary for this trip, and the ruins will be out of the question tomorrow when it rains. So, you persist, legs wobbling as you high up the path, shirt sticking to you and scent of sunscreen following you like a coconut cloud.

“You’re sure we’re going the right way?” Yoongi askes, looking up at the gleaming sun filtering between branches. “We haven’t seen a single person.”

“There’s steps, aren’t there?” you ask, gesturing to the path. “There’s ruins that aren’t as much of a climb that everyone prefers. Plus, it’s hot as shit. I wanted to see the good ones though.”

“Anything for you.” 

A few more minutes pass before Yoongi sees you lagging a little. The burn in your thighs is real, remembering acutely the way Yoongi had pressed them to your chest last night as he fucked you slow and deep. The memory makes you shiver, a post-orgasm twitch still haunting you an entire day later.

“Come on,” Yoongi urges. “It’s flat up here, we can step off the path and take a break.”

Yoongi finds some broken trees that have fallen sideways to sit on. You’re grateful, taking deep gulps of water. It immediately cools you down and you close your eyes, rolling your shoulders. Yoongi guzzles down water next to you, his arm pressed up against your.

After a few minutes sitting, you get up and turn to face the fallen tree, bending over at the waist to lean against it in a deep lunge, stretching your hamstrings. It’s a soothing sort of pain, the extension of muscle a relief. 

Yoongi looks at maps on his phone behind you, waiting as you you switch legs and arch your spine, feeling a few joints pop in release. It feels good and you sigh, letting the tension bleed out of you.

Hands find your ass, gentle and curious. You look over your shoulder to find Yoongi looking at you with his brows raised and head tilted. A question. You know he’ll back off immediately if you shoo him away. Instead, You burst into laughter and shake your head, “Seriously?”

“What?” 

You stare at him. He looks delicious, sweat dripping down his Adam’s apple, hair pulled back. He’s dressed simply and yet, looking at him looking at you, wanting you the way that he does makes you vibrate. It doesn’t matter how many times you have him, you always want him more. And again.

You married Yoongi for a myriad of reasons. Because he is gentle and kind, because you like the way he takes his coffee and reads the paper in the morning, because you like that he uses mint shampoo, because you like that he has to line his shoes up perfectly next to the door. 

Everything about him enchants you, and you’re over the moon to have someone who doesn’t shame you for your carnal desires, that you have someone who matches the energy, who can take it and give it to you anywhere you want. 

Yoongi is the perfect balance, always knowing when to initiate, always knowing when it's a good time.

“I know that look,” he smiles. “Now you’re thinking about it.”

“Can you be quick? I don’t want someone to stumble on us.”

“Fuck yeah I can,” he promises, dropping his backpack and popping the zipper on his pants. You let out a pathetic sound at the sight, earning a smug look from Yoongi. 

Yoongi peels your legs and underwear down to your knees, just enough to get access to you but also safe enough to pull them up quickly if you need. His clothed chest presses against your back as he leans forward, wrapping his arms around your middle in what seems like an innocent hug.

You gasp as the tip of his cock breaches your entrance, the stretch a little painful with no prep. It doesn’t matter, though. He pushes in slowly, letting you get used to it until he’s pressed in to the hilt, your pussy fluttering around him. 

“I love you,” Yoongi whispers, pressing butterfly soft kisses to your cheek and temple. He starts thrusting shallowly, stealing your breath away. “You are my perfect, beautiful, wonderful wife.”

“Fuuuck,” you whisper. Yoongi isn’t fucking around, making his thrust precision perfect, pressing that soft spot inside of you. Your thighs are pressed together, making the fit even tighter, feeling him even more. “You’re just saying that cause I’m letting you fuck me against a tree.”

“Untrue, I say this all the time.”

That’s fair. Yoongi does tell you that he loves you. More often now than he used to, more verbal than his little utterances of love by readying your coffee long before you were awake in the morning or picking up the things you were missing from your pantry on the way home. 

“You’re right,” you pant, head lolling to the side as his mouth seeks the heat of your throat. “I love you too”

The tree bark bites into your hand as you take him fully. With the way your legs are pressed together and the angle that you’re standing, it feels like Yoongi is punching to the very core of you, making the world spin. You think you might collapse over the tree if he weren’t holding you up. 

“You’re just saying that cause I’m fucking you against a tree.”

You can’t help but laugh, despite the fact that Yoongi picks up the pace, fucking you hard and with purpose. His hand slips between your legs, finding your clit and pinching it lightly, making you squeal and twitch. He laughs, choosing to circle it instead, working you faster toward an orgasm as he pounds into you, punching the breath from your lungs. 

Sex with him is different every time. You don’t know how you manage to never get tired of it, but it never feels the same. Not with him. Every time feels like you’re discovering something new, 

When you do come, you suddenly feel like you can run the rest of the way up to the ruins, energized on the endorphins alone. 

“I’ve heard of post nut clarity,” Yoongi jokes, tucking his cock back into his pants. “But never post nut energy.”

“It’s like a second wind.”

“Dickened wind.” 

You glare at him, tossing his backpack to him. “Stick to writing songs, not jokes.”

-

“You’re so fucking swollen,” Yoongi groans, thumbs peeling apart your folds. “Cute.”

You let out a shaky laugh, your face pressed down into the pillows of the daybed, ass up in the air with Yoongi behind you. The sound of the pool and anyone beyond the closed curtains of the banana are muted by the tropical music of the DJ. All the better to drown out the sound of your husband spitting onto your exposed heat. 

“Cause you’ve been fucking me insane all week,” you protest, body vibrating. Yoongi hums thoughtfully but doesn’t say anything, letting his spin trail slowly down your slit. You’re already wet from the way his greedy mouth sucked at your chest. “Baby, please. I want your mouth.”

“Yeah? You all hot and bothered?”

“Yes.”

“Let me cool you off.” 

Yoongi’s hands leave your ass for a moment. You’re too overheated from days in the sun and the rising tropical temperature to look at what he’s doing. You’re in a slow daze, a little buzzed from sweet drinks and Yoongi’s mouth, from sloppy kisses that taste like strawberry and Yoongi’s cute little sunburn on his ass from falling asleep after letting you drive him insane with your mouth on the private balcony the day before. 

Now, you hear the clicking of something moving around the ice bucket. Your brows furrow and you’re about to turn your head to look at what Yoongi is doing when you feel ice cold water slow drip onto your ass. 

“Shit,” you hiss, grabbing the edge of the daybed and arching your spin. The water is a cool burn, a relief that drives you mad as he makes a pleased sound. “Ohhh fuck, again.”

“More?”

“Fuck yeah.”

There’s the sound of more ice and Yoongi is dripping the cold water on your ass again, making your lower spine tingle and toes curl. The cold drips move closer to your cunt until he’s directly over your clenching hole. The shock of cold against hot sends you into a frenzy. You wiggle your ass back and forth, asking for more, eager for it. 

Yoongi has never been one to deny you. This time, you feel his lips around an ice cube, dragging his cold kiss over the swells of your ass, letting the ice melt on his tongue before lapping at your pussy, tongue cold against your dripping heat. 

It drives you mad. Your fingers ache with the way you clutch the pillows, pressing your face hard into the daybed as Yoongi does this a few times, bringing his cold lips to mouth hungrily at you until it’s all he’s focused on, forgetting the ice in favor of sucking greedily at your clit. 

Your spine feels like it might crack, bowed dangerously as you press back into his face. He moans at your eagerness, tongue twisting between your folds as eats you out in earnest. If it weren’t for the privacy curtains and the DJ booth, you’d never get away with this. Yoongi is not quiet, smacking his lips like a glutton. 

Air escapes you. You squeeze your eyes shut as an orgasm bears down on you. Your face is pressed so far in the cushions that you don’t think you can breathe, your lungs contracting and your chest squeezing as you come on his tongue without warning, a silent scream raging through you.

Stars burst behind your eyes. Yoongi takes it in stride, licking you long and slow as you remain rigid for the duration of your high. When it finally begins to subside, you fall to the side, sprawling boneless and feeling drunk.

“Holy shit,” you croak, voice gone. “You were right. Fuck the itinerary. This is so much better.”

[eds-gryff]

Letters and Lust

Edmund Pevensie x Reader

-

Requested by @potatosdragon (hope it’s to your liking!)

‘Hi again,

I really liked the writing you made with my idea, and I just thought of another one and had to send it to you.

So it's Edmund Pevensie again

And the reader has been sent to a boarding school so the writing would be letters sent between the reader and ed. Maybe he sends her a scandalous one and the teachers find it.

It might be a bit vague so I would totally understand if you don't want to write it but I just needed to see if you would.

Thank you so much’

-

Y/N- Your Name

L/N- Last Name

Y/H- Your Hometown/Home-Country

Y/n/N- Your Nickname

-

There is no mention of Narnia, so the fic can either be taken as taking place in a non-Narnia world, or just that the sex and the letters are more important than ruminating on the left-behind fantasy world 🤷‍♀️

-

Warning : smut, explicit language, charming-and-sweet-boyfriend!Edmund

----------------------------------------------------------

Mareafe Academy

6th September, 1944

Dearest Edmund,

I have literally just sat down on the bed in my dormitory, and the FIRST thing I did was pull out a piece of paper and a pen so I could write to you. And, alright, perhaps I also arranged my novels in the little bedside table I have.

I’m early, and my dorm-mates haven’t arrived yet, so I can write in peace and solitude, too- shucks, I won’t be having much of that anymore, will I? It hasn’t even been twenty minutes in the boarding school yet, but I already really miss day school. However DO you manage at boarding school??? And you’ve been studying at one since you were eleven!

I miss you, Ed. I miss your freckles. I miss you holding my hand. I miss zoning out of the conversation when you talk about chess. I miss you not even realising that I’ve zoned out.

I wish my parents weren’t going away to Y/H for the rest of the year- yes, I will miss them, too- and I wish that St. Finbar’s had a vacancy so I could have attended then, because I would have been close to you throughout the year then. I really thought that’s how it would happen- that once school started again, you’d be going to Hendon, and I’d be going to St. Finbar’s, and we’d be close-by, like always. I mean, the last couple of years, we were together all the time, because the war had closed the schools down.

I love you. Chess-obsessed idiot you are, but I love you so much. Alright, you’re not an idiot, you’re the smartest person I know, but still. Your cheeks get so red when I call you an idiot.

I have to go, I can hear footsteps coming to this room. You know what that means- people. Ugh. I do not like people.

I’ll post this when I get time, and you BEST write me back as soon as possible! Bye-bye, darling.

Love, Y/N

Y/N stared at the letter after she capped her pen, and continued staring at it even as the noise of chattering and laughter filled the room.

She finally stopped staring once one of the girls approached the bed she was sitting on, with a welcoming smile- probably one of the old students- and she put down the letter. As she sat up and readied herself to stand up, and- regrettably- socialise, her eyes fell on the letter one last time.

‘Dearest Edmund’ were the two words she managed to read, and she smiled to herself.

--

The day after that, Y/N hurried to the telephone room during the break, after the classes of the day and before the prep-time of the evening. Her hurrying was because the monitor of her form had come by her solitary armchair, where she’d been reading the newest Nancy Drew, and informed her that her mother was calling.

“Hello, M-?”

“Don’t finish the word, darling, I’m not your Mum.” Came the lovely voice of her even lovelier boyfriend, Edmund Pevensie. “Did I get the routine right? It’s your break now, yeah?”

“Yes- it is-” Y/N had sent him her class-routine along with the letter, “but- I thought- the monitor said that-”

“Oh, I just put Susan on the telephone for that.” He chuckled. “She sounds very much like a priggish old lady.”

Y/N snorted, after which he continued, sounding a bit nervous, “Wasn’t sure how receptive a teacher or monitor would be to a young man calling and asking for the prettiest person in school.”

Her cheeks were already scarlet, “Ed, you haven’t even seen the others in the school.”

“And I don’t need to.”

“You charmer, you.” Y/N spoke, toying the telephone wire around her fingers. Then her voice softened, dropping to a whisper, “I love you.”

“I love you, too.” His voice softened, as well, and she could imagine the tenderness in his chocolate brown perfectly. “I miss you, Y/n/N.”

“Me too- and the fact that I probably won’t see you until Easter break-” her parents would be returning to Finchley then, “which is SEVEN MONTHS FROM NOW, is just torture.”

“I couldn’t agree more. The moment I’ve enough money, I’m coming up there and we’re spending the weekend at some cosy inn.”

Her blush deepened, and- oh, how she wanted to kiss him. And more. Oh, she truly wanted that inn-weekend immediately.

Still, she spoke teasingly, “I think the Headmistress might have some problems with you whisking away one of her students for the entire weekend.”

“What can educational administrators or institutions do when it comes to true love?” Edmund spoke dramatically to his girlfriend, and Y/N- giggling again- could visualise him having his hand on his heart. “Oh, I did love the birthday gift by the way, my last suspenders were hand-me-downs. But why-”

“Because-” Y/N’s voice lowered again, but it wasn’t so much as it was sultry, “I like to hold them and tug at them when I’m on top of you, and honestly, with the state the last ones were in, I was afraid they’d tear the moment I touched them.”

She glanced at the door of the tiny telephone room, just to make sure there was privacy- before turning back to the telephone.

“And- your suspenders aren’t the only thing I want to tear off you, you know.”

She heard a gulp on the other end, and then Edmund’s hoarse voice speak, “What I would give to be back to the ninth of August- and the twelfth- and the sixteenth- and the twenty-third- and the twenty-fifth- and the twenty-sixth- and the thirty-first- and the first two days of September.”

Visions of Edmund, his pale, freckled body under her, on top of her, beside her, kissing her, touching her, licking her, fucking her- made their way immediately into Y/N’s mind, and she clenched the telephone receiver tight.

They weren’t visions, they were memories, and she pushed her legs pressed together.

“I can’t believe you remember all the days.”

“I can’t believe we had less than a month of it.” He whispered back, huskily, and Y/N licked her lips. “Oh, Y/n/N-”

“If you keep calling me that, I will run back to Finchley and have-” oh, she couldn’t say the word, she didn’t know if the walls were soundproof!, “and read with you in front of your entire family.”

“Read?” Oh, she just knew that Edmund was smirking. “Read what?”

“Everything you can imagine.” Oh, she could be husky and seductive, too! “Everything you want.”

“Everything we want.” He corrected immediately, and Y/N could no longer ignore how wet she was. “I- oh, goodness gracious, I need to have a cold shower now.”

“I need to have you, but I’ll have to settle for a shower, too.” She just hoped none of her dorm-mates asked why she was having a shower at such an odd time. “I should go, prep-time is about to start. Call me earlier next time, my love.”

“Okay, will do.” Edmund promised. He’d call her all the time- it was the only way for her to be in his life for the next seven months. Well, that, and letters. Yes, letters... He could make good use of those, too. He really would miss his girlfriend terribly. “I love you, Y/n/N.”

Y/N sighed, and rested her head against the wall- wishing it was her boyfriend’s shoulder instead. As if it wasn’t bad enough that she missed her family- missed home- she had to miss the love of her life, too.

“And I love you, Edmund.”

--

Edmund was not at school. He was grateful for that- though, not as much as Peter or Susan were, and more than Lucy was- for he quite enjoyed the time at home, with his family. He didn’t mind school, generally, for he liked to read, and learn, and he did well in tests- but who could pick school over home?

Certainly not he.

Regardless of his gratitude for not being at school, he did regret that he was at home- because of Y/N. It was entirely unjust that she was stuck there, in some boarding school she had never been to, with her family travelling away for some urgent emergency, away from her home, whilst he was at home and with his family.

He wished he could go to her- he badly wanted to see her, be with her. Just for half a day, even. He was intending to, and had even started planning to go there for Christmas, but his parents had informed them that their grandparents were coming to stay Christmas week- which effectively poured water on his half-formed plans.

All they had now was letters. Not even telephone calls- at least for the present, for the old telephones had been removed, and new ones were being put in, and Y/N had said that she didn’t know how long it would take in her last letter. There was only one working telephone in the entire school, the Headmistress’s, and, as his dear girlfriend had said, “I don’t think she’ll be very keen to let me use it so I can hear sweet nothings from my boyfriend.”

Edmund was making the most of the letters.

Several of the ones he’d written were humorous- even if he did say so himself, droll, and loving, chronicling the things that had been happening at home and with him, as well as asking Y/N what was happening with her and showing sympathy for her ‘incarceration’ (as she put it in one of her letters) in school.

-

My cousin, Eustace, came over with his parents for Dad’s birthday. You’ve met him, the shrill kid with the eyebrows, and the terrible name- Eustace Clarence Scrubb? Anyway, they were to stay the entire weekend, which everyone- including them- were very annoyed about, but we all had decided to take it as much in stride as possible. But Eustace is just so annoying, and he was driving us four MAD the entire day- to show how much, even LUCY asked for him to shut up. Well, she said ‘please, be quiet, I have a headache’, but that’s ‘shut the bloody hell up!’ for her.

At any rate, he was driving us crazy. I told you he has a fixation with entomology- insects- and he brought his whole kit and collection of insects with him. Can’t part with it, apparently, since he’s observing some live specimens to note down some specifics about them that he feels the entomology books got wrong.

We (Peter and I, since Eustace is sharing our room) let those live specimens free. Freedom is extremely important, I know you agree, my darling.

In the morning, Susan- with such a smile on her face she resembled the Cheshire Cat- said that Eustace had demanded to go home, and so our aunt, uncle, and cousin were to leave for Cambridge after lunch by train.

And it’s only Saturday! HA.

-

It is unfair, Y/n/N, far too unfair that you’re in school, while most of the country isn’t! It should be a law that each educational institution should open and close at the exact same times, and that there should be the same number of hols- otherwise, it’s just bloody unjust. If I wasn’t already sure that I want to be a lawyer, this would have made it CERTAIN for me.

You deserve better, my love. Especially since you hate school so much. If I could swap places with you, I would. I’d look very pretty in a skirt and your school’s uniform, don’t you think?

-

Did you read the new Hardy Boys? The Melted Coins? Frankly, I’ve been enjoying Nancy Drew more than the last couple of Hardy Boys- is just me? I prefer mysteries related not to treasure nowadays, I feel. Buried treasure just feels far too overused.

-

But several were- they were not humorous and sympathetic and bibliophilic as much as they were libidinous.

Edmund wrote those letters late at night, when his brother was fast asleep and snoring. He was a night owl, thankfully- though, not as much as Y/N, whose sleeping schedule was more vampiric than human. He’d write the letters, burning the midnight oil, blush quite brilliantly at the contents of what he’d written as well as the images of his beautiful girl from that his mind came up with, and then he would go and post the letters the next morning.

-

Darling, you know I think a lot, but you know what I think the most about?

You. Always you. Your smile, your eyes, your eyebrows, the nose I love to kiss, the curve of your lips, and your hips. How I hold them when you take me inside you. The way your eyes flutter when I flick your nipples, how your mouth opens whenever I lick at your sex.

How incandescent you look during and after sex, on top of me or under, your body pressed hard against me. How your lips call my name, how my name sounds in your voice. We had so few moments where we could do all that- but we really made the most of it, and I’m endlessly grateful. And we’ll see each other very soon, and I SWEAR all our fantasies will be indulged.

You make me tremble, and you leave me breathless, especially when I look at your face flushed with ecstasy and when I hold you in my arms while making love. And I love you so much in those moments, as I love you in every moment I live.

-

I miss your tits. Your lovely, large, lovely tits. I miss how you giggled when I kissed them. I miss all of you.

-

Do you know I have to keep taking showers more than once every day? Every time I think of you, I just get so hard and I need to get myself off, after which I need to clean up- consequently showers.

Your last letter, about the- about the swimsuit and the swimming exhibitionism thing- I don’t think I’ve ever come so hard from getting myself off. If it’s your hands or mouth, yes, but not from my own hands.

I want that, too. You know that. I want all of that, so BADLY. Sometimes I’ll wander down some alleyways, the ones that are shortcuts, and I’ll think of pushing you against a wall and fucking you then and there. I think of you wearing those sexy knee-socks as you spread yourself on the bed. I’ll think of how bright your eyes get when I enter you, and-

Fuck, I’m hard again. Bloody hell, Y/n/N, I’ve already showered twice today! I’m going to die of a cold, at this rate.

-

Chocolate is my favourite taste. I adore chocolate, and I’d probably eat the floor if it was made of it. I mean, no offence to those five kids, but I should have gotten a Golden Ticket to Willy Wonka’s Chocolate Factory.

But I adore tasting you, too. I love you writhing under me, as I kiss along your thighs, and I love you pulling my hair when I finally have my tongue inside you. I adore everything about you, every single thing- but, gosh, your taste. You taste like oranges, and I drink your essence like I’ve been thirsty for centuries. I’m a rational person, easily the wisest in my family- not that that’s a difficult achievement- but you, Y/n/N, you drive me wild.

-

I want you to fuck me. I want you kneeling in front of me, your mouth around me, sucking me harder and faster. I want you to make me moan your name over and over and over until you unravel me completely. I want to give you hickeys everywhere. I want to be yours. I want to be inside you again. I want you.

-

Y/N’s replies would come the very next day, and he would lock himself in the bathroom whenever he read them.

Her replies were even more explicit and- as she had herself said in a telephone call- more unhinged than his.

-

Every night before I sleep, I masturbate. I close my eyes, fix my blanket, and then I touch myself. I touch myself, and I think of how you hold me. I touch myself, and I think how you kiss me. I touch myself, and I think of how you lick my breasts, how you suck at my clit. I touch myself, and my body shakes, and I think of how you fuck me. I come, somehow, my hips lifting, and I think of you and only you, my dearest.

Then I go to the bathroom to pee and wash my hands, and then, just as I’m about to fall asleep, I think of you again.

I turn, shoving my face into my pillow, and I fuck myself again, all the while wishing it was your fingers and your mouth and your cock inside me instead.

-

I drew you naked in class today. I spent a lot of time on your fingers. And your freckles. I really, truly, madly love your freckles. I love that I’ve kissed all of them, all over your body. Even the ones on your cock. I love them. I love you.

-

Was down swimming today- it’s cold weather usually, but somehow it was pretty warm today. I was really glad, and the MOMENT we finished breakfast, I ran to get my swimsuit and went to the pool. I mean, I didn’t run, I definitely never run, but I did walk very fast.

So I went to the pool, wearing my swimsuit and a bathrobe over it, and as I was taking it off, I wished you were there. I wanted you to watch me. I wanted to take off my robe, and my swimsuit, and I wanted you to see me, your pretty eyes going dark as I get naked. And I wanted you to take off whatever you were wearing, too- hopefully suspenders. I love you wearing suspenders, and I love to drag them off you. Obviously, I’d be watching you as well, because how can I ever NOT look at you?

And then I wanted to make love with you then and there. Outside, in public, uncaring of whether anyone could see. I still want it.

Writing this down, I’m throbbing again. I can smell how wet I am, goodness.

-

I might kill someone if I don’t get you inside my cunt right NOW.

P.S. (adding this in the morning), I didn’t kill anyone. A lot of people at school make me murderous, but I’ve had self-control so far.

I have, however, put a photograph of myself in this letter, one that I’m sure you’ll like. I’m not as adept a photographer as you- you know how much I fidget- but, again, I think you’ll like it. And I hope, love, that you’ll send me one in reply, too- only if you want to.

I love you. And enjoy my tits. Let me know what effect they have on you.

--

“Post’s here early!” One of Y/N’s classmates called out- she had just stood up to leave the Dining Hall, and had seen the postman walk across the doorway at the far end of it. “Oh, hope Mum got me the hair-band I fancied!”

As her friend pulled her down to the seat, teasing her in whispers that she needed a few dozen hair-bands to keep her flyaway hair in control, Y/N stood up.

She never ate much in the mornings, anyway- if it wasn’t compulsory, she would absolutely have skipped breakfast every day, waking up exactly six minutes before classes started. And now that mail was here early, she would go and see if she had letters- she usually had one from Edmund every other day, and one from her family every week, as well as occasional letters from some other friends she had left behind. There were, though, also many days that she did not have letters.

Today was not one of those days.

Recognising Edmund’s signature on the back of the envelope, Y/N snatched it from the tray of letters, and grinned hugely. She grinned so widely, in fact, that a group of first-formers heading her way saw her and ran away in the opposite direction.

She usually opened letters from her darling boyfriend in private, since their letters were private, and- more often than not- intimate. Today, though, she lacked the patience and ripped it open as soon as she reached the- thankfully empty, since most of the school was still at breakfast- entrance hall of Mareafe Academy.

Her fingers felt the texture of the letter’s paper- but along with it, they felt a much smoother, cooler surface. She pulled both out immediately- she was a curious creature, and then Y/N almost dropped the envelope.

She wasn’t just curious. She was forgetful as well, and she’d forgotten what she’d sent along with her last letter. And that she’d added a request, of sorts, for a similar response.

And she had got it.

It was a photograph of Edmund. He’d clearly taken it himself, from the angle- and another, far more clearer thing, was that he was naked. He was utterly, completely naked, from head to thigh- that was as much was there in the picture. Oh, and his thighs- what lay in between them- Y/N licked her lips.

Almost immediately, she bit her bottom lip to keep from accidentally moaning, and then Y/N hurried to the staircase that led up to the dormitories to sit down on the fifth step. Setting down the letter and the envelope on the sixth step- yes, yes, she would read it in a second, she desperately wanted to read what Edmund wrote, but she just needed to admire the gorgeous being that the love of her life was- she looked at the photograph even longer. Her eyes danced around to his pale and lithe form, to the flat of his abs that she’d press her palms against sometimes, to different spots of him she’d sucked, to all the starry freckles she had kissed, to his lovely lips that gave her kisses that brought her both calm and passion, and to all the parts of him that she adored.

She would absolutely be missing her first class, so she could take advantage of an empty dormitory- she would look at the photograph, and then she would mas-

“Child, is this yours?” Came a voice- and then, immediately, a hand bent down to pick up the letter and the envelope carelessly left on the stair.

Y/N turned, in panic and horror and so many other unpleasant, cardiac-arrest-reminiscent symptoms- but the damage was done. The form-mistress for the first form, as well as the House-Mistress for the school House she was in, Ms. Potts, had her hands on her letter.

And her eyes were on the letter- growing wider and wider and wider and wider with every passing second.

“What,” Ms. Potts said, her lips pursed so tightly together they seemed conjoined, and her fair cheeks turning a blotchy red, “is this abhorrent, shocking, and vile thing sent to you?”

Oh, Heavens. Had Edmund written about how much he liked to have her sit stop his face? Or perhaps some details about how she sucked his cock.

Y/N did not say anything, because she felt petrified. Mortified. She had wished for death before, but she didn’t think she’d ever wished it quite so keenly and desperately. She’d take anything! Couldn’t those air raids start again!? Just for the day?!

There used to be a chandelier in the entrance hall- it had been removed as the war had begun. She wished it was still there, so it could fall on her.

Ms. Potts shook in rage for a few more moments, apparently as unable as Y/N was of coherent speak- before spotting something in the student’s hand.

“What is that?” She asked, her gaze fixed on the photograph of Edmund. “Was that with his letter?”

“No.” The lie was immediate, and convincing. Talking, she was not very good at, but lie she could very well. “It’s a photograph of- of the tulip-bushes at our house in Finchley, ma’am. My parents asked a neighbour with green thumbs to look after the bushes, so they’ve bloomed again despite the house being empty-”

“Is that so?” The teacher cut off the narration, looking unimpressed. At least the splotches of red were lessening now, Y/N thought. “Let me see it, then, give it-”

“No!” Oh, she could have her letter, but she would not give away a photograph of Edmund naked! He’d trusted her with it, and she would DIE before letting a stranger see it. No one ever deserved to have their personal anecdotes or their personal photographs or documents be circulated to or by those who were never intended to see them. “Sorry, Ms. Potts, but it’s my photograph.”

“Hm, of course. Privacy is important.” Ms. Potts nodded, seemingly backing down. “But so is decency, Ms. L/N, and the things written in this letter-”

“I haven’t read the letter, ma’am.” Y/N said, because what else could she say? She didn’t know! She still felt like she was having a heart attack, and she was anxious about whether the hospital- oh, anxiety. She felt anxiety, and if Ms. Potts didn’t give her back her belongings, she may devolve into a full-blown panic attack. “I don’t know what it says. I’m not even sure whom it’s from-”

“Says it is from ‘your devoted and dearest Edmund’.” Her lip curled, and Y/N couldn’t be sure if that was a hint of humour or hatred. She could be sure, though, that she wanted the floor to open up and swallow her whole. Or at least transport her to somewhere far, far away, somewhere that was preferably known as ’Edmund’s arms’. “I thought such adoring signatures died out after the Georgian era.”

“I always thought that such signatures existed only in books.” The girl gave a shrug- not a nonchalant one, though that was the effect she was trying to convey. “Maybe- maybe that’s what this is, Ms. Potts, someone having transcribed a letter from a novel and sent it to me-”

“Admirable attempt at lying, L/N, but the lie only makes things worse. Mareafe Academy does not condone lying, cheating, or-” Ms. Potts looked down at the letter again, and the splotches reappeared, “such disgusting sentiments being written to the young women of tomorrow!”

“Oh, but- but, Ms. Potts-”

Why wasn’t there a dragon here? Either she could ride away on it, or it could eat her. Either way, her problem would be solved

Oh, she so hated to exist in a world of reality.

“And, according to devoted and dearest Edmund,” The teacher’s voice dripped with sarcasm, and it didn’t sound nearly as attractive as Edmund’s sarcasm did, “you were the one who asked to be sent such uncouth correspondence.”

Well, what was she to do now? Throw Edmund under the bus and keep him safe, or tell the truth and secure expulsion?

She couldn’t do either of that. She would protect Edmund and she would make sure her parents did not have to feel the shame of a child expelled from school.

What excuse could she give...

“I’m a writer.” Y/N said suddenly, before glancing down at the letter again- as soon as Ms. Potts lost focus on it, she’d grab it back. “I asked a friend of mine to help me with certain- salacious parts of the novel I’m working.”

Ms. Potts gave her a look, “Are you planning to become the female D. H. Lawrence, Ms. L/N? Need I remind you, most of his books were banned because of their- their inappropriate content.”

“And now he’s one of the most famous writers of the century.” Y/N pointed out. “I- I think that counts as a win.”

Ms. Potts rolled her eyes, “Would you like me to take this letter to the Headmistress? Perhaps she’ll motivate you with suspension to show her the photograph-”

“No!” She burst out again, shifting her weight from one leg to another, that was how nervous she was. She kept teetering-tottering. Edmund’s photograph would ensure expulsion.

Oh, why was this happening!? Wasn’t it bad enough that she’d had to wake up early for breakfast- even earlier than usual, because her dorm-mate had pulled the curtains back to let in the rare sunshine!? Waking up was awful enough!

“No- please, Ms. Potts, I don’t- I’m so- I’m sorry. I- promise that- that I won’t ask for such-” loving, “vile letters anymore. Please, I’m so very sorry, ma’am-”

“Alright, child. Calm yourself.” She sighed. Generally, she would have taken the student and the letter to the Headmistress, for its contents were that questionable- but she had a soft heart when she hadn’t had her morning coffee. And- well, she knew the girl was having a hard time with her parents so far away, and- and, between the inappropriate things, she could read the love that seeped out from every word. Edmund truly loved Y/N, despite the disgusting things he did to her and she did to him. “No supper for you for the rest of the week, L/N. Your suppertime will be devoted to extra prep time, and you’ll have two slices of toast and a glass of water before you head to bed.”

“Okay.”

At least it wasn’t expulsion- and she’d just spend the prep time daydreaming about Edmund. About the food, though- she usually was very hungry at dinner, but she’d have to make do.

“Thank you so much, ma’am- and, again, I- I am so- so sorry.”

“Hmph.” She made a sound to acknowledge the apology, and then held out the letter. “I’ll be reading the rest of your letters from this Edmund from now on.”

She nodded quickly.

“Now go put it somewhere private, I will come check in five-” after she had her coffee, “and for the Lord’s sake, get to class on time!”

She nodded again, grabbing the letter and the envelope, before running straight to her thankfully empty dormitory.

She had intended on locking the door, undressing- at least part-way- and then fingering herself until she came, while looking at Edmund’s photograph and/or reading his letter.

Y/N still wanted to do that, she thought, as she sank onto her bed. She wanted to do it even more, in fact, because now she had his letter, and she was reading all the beautifully dirty things Edmund wanted her to do to him or wanted to do to her- but she would refrain. Her sex was throbbing and her mouth was dry, but Ms. Potts would be up any second, and if she walked in on her masturbating- well, there would be no hope for her at ALL then.

For once, she would have self-control when it came to Edmund.

“Oh, darling.” She said, falling back on the bed and letting out a very long sigh. She wanted to go back to sleep. “Our fucking has fucked things up.”

--

Two months later:

“Yes, fuck, ah-ah, yes-” Y/N moaned, one of her hands gripping the bark of the tree she was pressed up against, while the other fisted itself firmly into Edmund’s hair, pushing his head further between her thighs.

They were in a clearing in the woods behind school- not too far in that they’d get lost, and yet not too near the entrance that they’d be seen by someone from her school. It was parents’ weekend- and, in place of her parents, Edmund had come to visit. Ms. Potts had enquired if she would be alone the weekend, and Y/N had lied that her uncle and aunt would be coming to take her for the two days- and the moment that Ms. Potts had turned around, she’d grabbed her little case and run outside. Thankfully, in all the crowd of cars and people outside the school, no one had noticed that the person she was hugging was a boy her own age, or that the hug was decidedly not platonic.

After they’d escaped the school, Y/N had said something that they couldn’t enjoy themselves in a pool- sand then Edmund had completed her sentence by saying that at least they could have some pretty good fun in the woods.

Edmund had taken up a paper route the last few months, and had done some odd jobs around the neighbourhood- and Y/N had made some money by tutoring some first-years, too. She’d begun the tutoring as a way to lessen Potts’s suspicion- but it had had a monetary advantage, too. Pooling their money together, they’d managed to afford one night at a nearby bed-and-breakfast, and they had both been so excited, Edmund had got on the wrong train- he’d realised just before it had started- and Y/N had buttered her hair, instead of her toast.

Edmund dug his fingers into her leg that was thrown over his shoulders, his tongue licking a path along her sex, and he felt a deep tightening in the pit of his stomach. He was already pleasured and sated- the moment he had arrived at the school gate, and had seen her run towards him, after which she’d thrown her arms around him, he’d been utterly content. He was even more so now. He had missed her so much.

He reached up blindly- but he was so familiar with her body, that he found her bare breast at the first try, cupping it hard as he began to suck at her clit.

“Come on, Y/n/N. Say my name.” Edmund grinned wolfishly, as a muffled sigh left her lips. “Moan if you missed me, darling.”

And she did.

This was exactly- exactly- what she needed. What both of them did. What they’d needed and wanted for so long. How utterly she had missed him.

And, considering that they’d only had sex for about ten days back in August, it was truly astonishing how well he knew her body. He really was a fast learner.

He knew it so well that she just could not keep her mouth shut, though she knew she couldn’t be too loud, “Fuck, Edmund-”

Then his fingers joined, too, inching closer to her clit, making her gasp and shiver and doubling the building ecstasy.

Needless to say, it took hardly a couple of minutes for Y/N to reach her zenith, her body relaxing as she came.

“No, no, no.” She said, a moment after her breathing eased- Edmund was looking around for their long-discarded shirts, his suspenders (which looked even sexier than usual, perhaps because she was seeing him for the first time in months), and her skirt.

Her boyfriend looked at her inquiringly- good Heavens, he was licking his lips, she might orgasm just looking at that.

She pulled her knickers up and debated on putting on her bra- she was trying to wear them more often, despite how much she disliked them, because she’d heard a sixth-former whisper in the pool that wearing bras helped with back pain.

And she had a lot of back pain.

But she decided against it. A few more minutes wouldn’t make her back hurt even more.

“Come a little closer?”

Edmund obeyed, but still looked blank. He was perfectly content to just look at her- after months of just letters, most of which had been censored and sanitised after a point- he just wanted to gaze at her.

“Why, Y/n/N?” He asked, and was answered by Y/N kneeling, pulling his trousers down, and wrapping her mouth around him in one fluid moment. He started violently, quite staggered by the action, and drew a sharp gasp of a breath. “G-give a fellow some warning, darling.”

“As though you didn’t know-” She pulled away from his cock for just a moment to smile at him- going down on her had hardened him, which meant he was already close, “that I wouldn’t let you go without returning the favour. It’s been too long, love.”

“I- forgot.” His lashes fluttered, his breath coming in short bursts as she started to take him in her mouth again, her head bobbing up and down between his legs. “S- ach, Y/n/N-” she sped up the work of her tongue- harder, faster- and he had to bite down on his bottom lip to hold back a moan, “silly me.”

She sucked for a few, slow moments- not enough to make him come, but enough to make him tremble and moan her name- and she could feel herself throb again, because it wasn’t inside her mouth that she needed him.

But she’d contentedly settle for this for the moment- it was Edmund, she liked doing almost everything with him.

Carefully, she pulled her mouth away from him- and asked softly, “Do you like this, my love? Do you like my mouth around you, as I kneel for you? As I put my tongue on your cock?”

Before he could reply, she bent forward again and trailed her lips all over his length, sometimes darting her tongue out to lick a freckle or sensitive spot- and then began to suck once more.

Minutes later, as the birds chirped in the trees, they lay on the warm grass. They held hands as Edmund slid inside Y/N, into the togetherness and oneness they’d had too little of and they had missed for months.

The sun scattered through the canopy of trees, falling onto their bodies, which flushed and naked and tight together. Their lips were pressed together, too.

And when they came together, they whispered both I love you and I missed you.

After that, lying naked on the warm grass and in each other’s arms, they made fun of other people- specifically, teachers- and teased each other- both verbal and sexual, and bantered, all interspersed with a lot of kissing. There was a small picnic basket lying a few feet from them, as well.

It was going to be an amazing weekend.

----

Thank you for reading!

And requests are CLOSED. I have end semester exams in a week, and what have I been doing? Nothing that will help me pass and everything that will make me fail!

[themalhambird]

There were times when Ankh-Morpork as a whole possessed a conveniently short memory. Inside of a week “that thing with the dragon” was already being forgotten, partly because nobody wanted to admit they’d thought crowning a bloody great lizard was a a good idea and partly because no one wanted to remind the Patrician that they’d been complicit in locking him inside his own dungeon. The palace was repaired; any damage to the city was propped up or painted over. Nevertheless, there were clearly going to be some lasting effects. It was early in the morning, and Sybil Ramkin was leaning over the Patrician’s shoulder, examining one of the said consequences with a somewhat critical eye. “It’s not bad, Havelock,” she said. “A little more practice, perhaps.”

Lord Vetinari hummed his agreement. His fingers did not stop switching lace bobbins from one position to another, moving pins down the board and leaving a slightly lopsided web in his wake. “I find it…relaxing,” he said. “A challenge, to be sure, but easier to wrangle than the city.”

“To be sure,” Sybil repeated with a wry smile. “Lacemaking is only a craft that takes most people years to learn properly. You’ve read one book and away you go. Honestly Havelock. You’re insufferable.” 

Vetinari smirked. Sybil stepped away from his shoulder and strode gracefully to the far end of the long table, sitting opposite her old friend and helping herself to breakfast. “So,” she said, “Captain Vimes.” 

She waited. Vetinari said nothing. His bobbins clacked. Sybil popped a grape into her mouth. “”I’m not going to sit here  playing mindgames with you, Havelock. I’m not one of your little lace bobbins- I’m your friend.”

“”Captain Vimes” is not a statement that seems to require a response, my dear.” Vetinari set down the bobbins and sat back in his chair, tapping one slender finger on the wooden armrest. Sybil smiled. 

“Fair enough. Let me rephrase. What do you think of Captain Vimes?”

“Why do you ask?”

“Because I like him.” Sybil said frankly. “I like him a great deal.”

“Why?”

Sybil gave a half shrug. “He’s passionate. Blunt, but the honesty is charming. He’s brave- heroic-”

“-an alcoholic. Hardly a paragon of the law. Oh, he may not take bribes, but the Night Watch as a whole doesn’t have much of a purpose beyond running away at the first sign of danger.”

“Now that’s unkind- they were fighting Wonse and the dragon whilst you were sitting in a prison cell. Look, Havelock,” Sybil sighed. “I like him. I really rather like him. So I would like to know what you think of him.”

“...I think,” Vetinari said slowly, “that given half a chance Samuel Vimes would lock me up and throw away the key. I think that Samuel Vimes has a great deal in common with his famous ancestor and I think, Sybil, that if you like him, there wouldn’t be any harm in continuing the acquaintance.” His mouth curls in a sly smile. “Besides,” he said, “Think of how it would annoy Ronnie Rust- Lady Ramkin, consorting with the plebs.” “Well,” Sybil said. She picked up another grape. Vetinari picked up his bobbins. There would be City Business to attend to, soon enough, but the Patrician could spare another ten or fifteen minutes on Ankh-Morpork’s richest daughter who had, after all, been through so terrible an ordeal lately. And, considering Wonse's betrayal- though it had hardly been unexpected- Havelock wanted to spend a little longer in company with his old friend. Besides. It was gratifying to know that he wasn't the only person to see the merit buried deep within Captain Vimes, and Vetinari wanted to spend a little time ruminating on all the doors that Vimes forming a connexion with Lady Ramkin might start to open up...

[cuntdestroyer3000]

The hand that feeds

moodboard just for vibes, not a physical description of reader, dividers by @cg1rl

Godless pt 2: dark!outlaw!Joel Miller x f!reader

Summary: It's your first morning at Joel's camp. You try to adapt to your new life and struggle with who to trust. However, you can't help but enjoy the way Joel provides for you, or the way he fucks you. Dual POVs, part one here, playlist

Word count: 8.4k

Warnings: dark, dead dove, dubcon, noncon (reader doesn't have any other choice), stockholm syndrome, reader is captive and considered to be Joel's property, unprotected piv sex, voyeurism, light somnophlia. HELLA SMUT, smut all around. dom/sub dynamics, praise/degradation kink, sir kink, no physical description of reader, No use of y/n.

A/N: I'm FINALLY DONE. I fr thought I'd never finish but I'm glad to finally get this posted. Thanks for being patient and pls use tags if u reblog <3

As dawn light filtered through the thin curtains on the windows, Joel stirred. Rising with the sun did, as always. There was a lot that needed to be done and he found that laying in bed for too long led to unwanted rumination. The dark thoughts he fought constantly began threatening his mind the minute he awoke.

This morning however, he let himself linger. It had been a very long time since he'd woken up feeling the warmth of a woman in his bed. You were cuddled into him, your chest rising and falling rhythmically. He took in your peaceful expression, eventually letting his eyes fall to your bare breasts.

He pulled back to better see you, running a thumb over one of your nipples, watching it harden.

He cupped a breast and squeezed it gently. You shifted a little and he massaged you, his eyes falling over you hungrily. His hand moved, following the curve of your waist up and down. He played with you for a while; he stroked your side, ran his rough fingertips over your soft stomach, and snaked his hand around to squeeze your ass. He let his fingers drift down to your pussy and smirked when he felt how wet you were. He wondered what you'd dreamt about, if it had been about him. He played with your clit a little, making you moan softly in your sleep.

It took everything in his power not to lose control and ravage you right this moment. He'd really been keeping himself in check since he'd acquired you but the mere sight of you drove him crazy.

He had felt the same way when he'd seen you at the saloon, he'd tried to ignore it but he had already started talking himself into finding a way to take you back with him.

He figured you were used to being fucked often, but he was still holding back. You were just such an exciting new toy, there felt like endless possibilities for what he could do to you. But he didn't want to break you in all at once. He was a calculated man, always careful with how he handled you. But there was a yearning he constantly kept at bay. It had taken everything in him not to rip your clothes off the minute he saw you.

He savored you for as long as he could, before finally tearing himself away. You were hard to resist but there were things that needed his attention urgently.

He sat up in bed, rubbed a hand down his face and stretched, trying to ease the aching in his joints.

He pulled up his jeans but left them undone. Donning nothing else but his boots and jacket, he headed outside with his rifle.

The morning air was misty, a thick fog hung over the trees like a blanket. Joel imagined it would make one feel at peace. He wouldn’t know, he’s never felt at peace, well maybe once…a long time ago.

Some men were up and milling about. Two guys were sitting at the fire pit, smoking and taking periodic swigs from their flasks.

“Mornin’ Joel.” One of them greeted him and he nodded in return.

He surveyed the grounds once more and, deciding everything was normal, headed off in a direction he hadn't been in in awhile.

-

The crisp dawn air made his cheeks cold and he shivered slightly as his nipples hardened. He trekked through the chaparral terrain, looking for game.

He liked hunting, he never felt more in control than he did when he was out in the woods with his gun. Although being between your legs might start coming close.

Joel was able to catch some rabbits but he still wasn't satisfied. Besides, the sun had just started warming his skin. He decided he wouldn't leave until he caught something worthy of bringing back. He had a new mouth to feed after all.

After some time, he finally caught something, a buck. Impressing himself- though he'd never admit that to anyone.

He slung the beast over his broad shoulders, his jacket hanging from its antlers and the dead rabbits swinging from where they were tied to his hips.

-

It was later in the morning when you finally awoke. You opened your eyes blearily as light filled the cabin. Stretching out in Joel's bed, you couldn't help but feel comfortable under all the soft blankets. The cabin looked nice in the daylight and you could make out the dust particles in the rays of sun coming in.

You weren't sure how to feel. You were still upset about being taken away, but you were glad you were living in a house with a warm bed. Then there was the way Joel had fucked you last night. You couldn't help but shiver at the memory, him pummeling your cunt in a way you'd never experienced before.

You pulled on a thin slip and wrapped a shawl around your shoulders. You hesitantly made your way out the door, the sparse grass poking your bare feet.

-

Squinting in the bright sunlight, you saw Joel emerging from the tree line with a dead animal slung over his bare shoulders. You gasped softly at the display of strength and prowess as he walked past his cabin, making eye contact with you.

The sight of him rendered you breathless. A familiar aching bloomed between your legs as you took in his pumped up muscles, his bare torso slick with sweat and blood from the animal. He looked so wild, almost as if he himself was a predator of the unforgiving wilderness. The dark look in his eyes awakened something primal within you.

You shivered despite the warm air and pulled your shawl tighter around you. Your knees felt weak and you leaned against the doorframe for support. Picking up on his obvious effect on you, Joel gave you the faintest smirk and hoisted the dead buck up over his shoulders with ease, his hungry gaze lingering on you as he passed by.

You stared after him, watching his muscular back as he moved towards a nearby shed. You watched from afar as he dropped the heavy carcass behind him, rolling out his neck and shoulders.

His men were in jubilation at his catch but Joel remained stoic, providing merely a nod to the man thumping his shoulder.

As he turned around, his eyes fixed on you hungrily and he set off purposefully in your direction. You stumbled backwards from the doorframe, not expecting this reaction, worried you had somehow done something wrong.

He appeared in the doorway shortly after, startling you even though you knew he was coming. Blood streaked down his bare chest and stomach. Your gaze traveled down to his ample package, threatening to escape from his undone jeans. His eyes were wild and he was breathing heavily.

You were simultaneously terrified and aroused by him. You backed into the wall and looked around with uncertainty as he slowly made his way over to you with heavy footsteps. He got close to you, crowding your space, causing your nose to wrinkle at the smell of the blood still on him.

"Joel..." You mumbled.

"Look at me." he said softly.

You forced your eyes up to meet his. His gaze was dark and piercing, you weren't sure what he was going to do. You wanted him but the blood and stench of dead deer was disgusting you.

He reached out for your face with a bloody hand and you flinched back instinctively. Irritation flashed across his face and you felt a bolt of fear go through you. You'd actively disobeyed him.

He looked down at himself and scoffed,

"You afraid of a little blood?" He taunted you.

You shrugged and looked at the floor.

"You don't like it when I catch food for you?" He pressed, causing your stomach to turn over.

You quickly shook your head,

"N-no sir-"

He got closer, towering over you and crowding your space. You winced as you pressed yourself against the wall, struggling to breathe due to the odor.

You tried to even your breathing as you looked up at him, his dark eyes bored into you. It frightened you how you could never gauge what he was thinking. His expression was always hard and unreadable. He hadn’t explicitly done anything to you yet to make you fear him so, but the stories you’d heard about him while living in the brothel were enough to chill you to the bone.

After a few tense seconds he scoffed,

"Guess that whorehouse was awful fancy." He moved back towards the door, but you remained frozen.

"Get on the bed." He said flatly, "I'll be back."

-

While Joel cleaned up, you situated yourself on the bed, unsure of what position to be in. Your heart pounded as you anticipated his return.

You knew what he wanted, he had probably been out in the woods for hours. He was no doubt exhausted and craved a release. It was typical of the men you spent your time around. Tired and tense, craving control.

You couldn't help but crave Joel too. You couldn't get the way he had mounted you last night out of your head. The way that dark hunger had filled his eyes, thrilling and frightening you at the same time. You also thought about how wrong and fucked up it all was. He had taken you away from your home, and was keeping you as his own personal whore. The brothel wasn't much better, but at least there you’d had your friends.

You tried to calm yourself down by thinking about how he's been caring for you, providing for you. You remembered how he had made you feel last night. You'd laid with much worse than him, men who didn't know how to truly please a woman.

Joel did.

You're lost in your thoughts when you notice him standing in the doorway, his torso glistening from washing himself off. You look down coyly with your hands in your lap.

He slowly made his way over, his bulge at your eye level, his still unzipped jeans accentuating his rock hard cock. A wave of arousal rolled through you, your nipples hardening and pussy growing wet in anticipation of what he was going to do to you.

You slowly looked up to him, his stare intense and his soft brown hair unkempt. He held you gently by your chin with a rough hand as you gazed up at him submissively. With his other hand, he tugged on the strap of your dress.

"Take this off." His voice was low and gravelly, making your head spin.

You weren't sure why, but the command sent a thrill through you. To be fair, it wasn't like you had a choice anyway.

"Yes sir." You said quietly, trying to push down how eager you were to obey him. In truth, your core lit up with excitement as you lifted your dress over your head.

His hand cupped your cheek as you sat, completely bare for him, the illusion of sweetness made you melt and without thinking you leaned your head forward against his soft stomach.

Joel chuckled softly at the gesture, running a large hand over your head, holding you against him. He was surprised at how easy it all was, how easily you obeyed him. You'd seemed to have fallen into your role of a submissive whore quickly, and it was hard for him to tell if you were just playing the part or if you really wanted him. Your cunt felt good squeezing him either way though.

He quickly slid a hand into his pants, freeing his aching cock. You had your eyes closed so you didn't even realize what was happening until it bumped against your cheek.

Your eyes fluttered open and you stared up at him, knowing what he wanted. He stared down at you with anticipation, his eyes blown out with lust. His hand tightened around your hair, pulling you closer to him.

You couldn't help the fear that rose within you. Sure men had used your mouth before at the brothel, but Joel's cock was much bigger than any of theirs. You were worried about being able to take it all.

Joel clocked your hesitation and inhaled sharply, yanking your hair harder.

"The fuck are you waiting for?" He sneered.

His harshness shocked you, especially compared to the way he'd held you last night.

"I-" you started before you were interrupted by Joel shoving his cock into your open mouth, making you gag.

You choked on his thick length as he ruthlessly fucked your face.

You tried your best to breathe through your nose as you choked and drooled on his cock. You stared up at him through teary eyes. His muscles flexed as he thrust into your mouth, his beefy chest heaving. 

His brow furrowed as he moaned, gasping and throwing his head back. You couldn't help but notice how beautiful he looked like this, both in control and a slave to his desires.

Your admiration of him was cut short as you gagged especially hard. The feeling sent a bolt through your pussy and you moaned around him.

"Ohhh yeah baby." Joel laughed as he watched you drool around him, spit dripping down onto your tits, "You like chokin' on this cock don't you."

Your moan turned into a gag as he grazed the back of your throat again. You'd become accustomed to having men use your mouth, you'd liked to think you developed some skill in the area. But Joel was not like the men in your town. He was longer, thicker, rougher. He held your head in place as he fucked your mouth, not seeming to care when you gagged especially loud.

You felt fear rise within you whenever your stomach turned over and it felt as though bile would rise in your throat. Whenever you would gag especially hard, Joel would ease you off of him, but only a little bit so that you could breathe before fucking into you again.

Unhinged and fueled with adrenaline from his hunt, he fucked you until he came. He was so pent up, all he could focus on was his impending release. Even when you started to make desperate noises and fought to pull your head off of him.

His grip on your hair only tightened as he forced you down, finally coming deep down your throat. You coughed and sputtered around him and gasped for air when he eventually let you go, his come dribbling messily down your chin where you'd failed to swallow it.

You panted as he sighed and released you, tucking himself back into his jeans but still leaving them open. You looked up to see that he hadn't shut the door, and several of his men were watching you. You weren't sure how long they had been there for and your face grew hot with embarrassment as you quickly looked down and wiped your mouth.

Joel huffed out a laugh,

"No use bein' all shy about it now, girl."

You didn't respond, still trying to clean up your face. He grabbed your chin roughly and made you look up at him.

"Answer me when I talk to you." He spat.

"I-I'm sorry." You scrambled to please him. Despite your past experience in the brothel, you still found yourself feeling exposed and vulnerable in front of his men.

Joel followed your gaze to the doorway and then looked back at you.

"Don't mind them sweetheart. They just like watching."

You nodded shakily.

"You're used to bein' watched' aren't you?" His voice dropped lower, the rasp of it making your pussy even wetter.

You hesitated for a moment too long and his hand reached down to grab your neck forcefully.

"I asked you a fucking question!" He shook you causing you whimper as his grip got tighter, your head starting to feel fuzzy.

"Yes sir!" You gasped.

He let go of you and stepped back with a smirk.

"Tell me what you like, baby." He murmured as his men began to trickle into the room.

You couldn't ignore the way your pussy bloomed with arousal. You could feel yourself slipping away into this role, it was already starting to feel natural. You hated the excitement you felt at the thought of being put on display by Joel. But then again, if you were going to be doing this no matter what, you might as well enjoy yourself. You told yourself that this was no different than the brothel, where you serviced multiple men a day and were often watched during it.

"I-" You bit your lip and let your eyes travel over his men's hungry stares before finally settling on Joel. You told him what he wanted to hear, but figured it wouldn't hurt to tell him what felt good for you as well.

"I like being watched." You mumbled, and after a pause you gained a little more confidence, "I like being watched when my cunt gets used." You said softly, locked in an intense stare with Joel.

You swore you could see his breath hitch, his gaze grew even hungrier, spurring you on.

"I like it when you give me orders." You continued, "I like it when...when you tell me I'm good." You finished the last sentence even softer. That one held the most truth, all you had ever really wanted was to be good.

Joel walked up and ran his hand over your head, cupping the side of your cheek in the way that made your heart flutter. He smiled down at you like he had when he'd given you his jacket at the campfire last night.

"You are good." He murmured.

He pushed you back uncharacteristically gently unlike he had the night before and you laid back, spreading your legs open compliantly for him. You couldn't deny how eager you were to give in to him, especially after the events of this morning. Watching him provide for you like that, catching such impressive game all by himself. He smirked as he viewed your cunt, glistening with the evidence of his effect on you.

He stepped aside and turned to his men.

"Prettiest little pussy in the whorehouse, n' it's all mine."

You throbbed sickeningly in response. You were trying to let go, you kept telling yourself that this was the same as the brothel. But you knew it wasn't. There was no Mr. Polk around here to make sure you didn't get too roughed up, or too humiliated. These were outlaws, they could do whatever the fuck they wanted.

"I love fucking her little whore pussy." One of the younger men piped up.

Joel turned to him,

"You loved fucking her little whore pussy, Beans. You ain't gettin' any more of it."

The man, apparently named Beans, frowned and a few of the other men grumbled, obviously disgruntled at the news that they didn't get to play with Joel's new toy.

He turned back to you,

"She's all mine." He nearly growled. You felt a twisted sort of relief flood through you. At least Joel was the only man who would be fucking you, and he did it so well. If you were his property, wouldn't he do anything to protect you?

You rapidly rationalized being on display like a piece of meat and watched with heavy lidded eyes as Joel reached forwards and slowly circled your clit with his thumb. You sighed and arched your back as he moved down to your opening, spreading your wetness all over. He applied more pressure onto your clit, watching you closely as you started to fall apart.

The pleasure dulled the constant grief that you had been feeling since you'd left home, at least it was a bit of a distraction. You let yourself get lost in it and writhed under the eyes of all his men. Moaning loudly, you gave them the show they were all so desperate for as Joel easily drew an orgasm from you.

You heard him laugh before he landed a spank to your pussy making you cry out and spread your legs even wider.

The men in the small cabin murmured in amazement. Your cheeks heated up as you realized how enthralled they all were with you, how you were the sole subject of their attention, and their desires.

You looked up at Joel, your chest heaving. He smirked down at you, seemingly satisfied with your performance.

"Good girl." He stroked the top of your head before sitting down, pulling you onto his lap and squeezing your ass in one of his massive hands.

"Get the fuck out." He barked at his men.

-

In the days that followed, you ate the venison Joel had caught and kept your head down.

You tried to learn what Joel liked and what he didn't, but it was hard. He didn't speak to you all that much besides when he gave you orders or fucked you. The initial shock had started to wear off, and it was starting to become clear to you that this was it, this was your life.

Whenever that particularly terrifying thought crossed your mind, you looked for ways to distract yourself, you usually just trailed after Joel wherever he went. He mostly liked to sit in silence by the fire, outside when it was warm. He'd whittle, drink, or just sit and stare into the flames. You couldn't guess what he was thinking about.

One night you came out to join him, sitting in front of his legs on the ground.

"What are you doin' out here?" He asked after a while, his eyes still boring into the campfire.

You shrugged,

"Just...wanted to keep you company."

He looked down at you, his face cold and tinged with what looked like a profound sadness, something that went so deep you weren't sure you could ever figure it out.

"I don't like being alone." You mumbled out, looking down at the grass.

He didn't respond, just stared back up at the fire.

Your heart sank and you laid your head on the inside of his thigh, strangely finding yourself wishing for a shred of affection from him.

He didn't move, didn't acknowledge you further but didn't make you leave either. You began spending nights like this with him often, where he'd sit and stare into the fire and you'd sit between his legs on the ground, your head on his thigh, gazing up at him.

It usually ended with him hauling you up into his lap, taking you into his cabin and fucking you.

It was only after he'd brutally pounded your cunt, his cum still leaking out of you, when he’d pull you into his arms and hold you fiercely. The rush you felt in those moments was indescribable, you hadn't felt so warm, so cared for, so held in such a long time.

You saw a different side of him when you both laid tangled in his blankets. When he stroked your back, running his fingertips over you lazily. It was as though he allowed a softer side of him to show through, just for a little bit.

You began to crave these intimate moments with him, the high from your multiple orgasms still washing over you. Feeling the closest thing you could to contentment. You began to enjoy night time a lot more overall. The main reason being that you didn't have to be conscious. You liked your rituals with Joel though, how safe you felt laying with him in those moments.

The rest of the time, he was hard and distant, making you want him even more. It drove you crazy, how you felt so connected with him yet he was still a total stranger to you.

He also couldn't keep his hands off of you. Whether it was simply a hand on the back of your neck or pulling you in front of him, cupping your pussy and grinding his hard cock into your ass no matter who was around, reminding you and everyone else exactly who you belonged to.

It was strange to you, how this man could simultaneously be so cold and distant but still hold you so close at night. You wished you could talk to him, you wished you could talk to anyone. The only people who could understand were miles away.

In the days that followed, you grew to feel more and more alone. You felt like you couldn't trust anyone here.

-

When you weren't being fucked, you tried to find ways to spend your time. You mostly read, wrote in your diary, or drew. You also explored the camp as much as you could, making sure you never ventured too far, lest he and his men think you were trying to run away.

Running away had crossed your mind, but you didn't even know where you would go. You had traveled for so long after Joel had bought you, the desert landscapes you had seen out there all looked the same.

Besides, you were sure you'd run into trouble out there. You had never traveled for long distances alone, you didn't know how to hunt, you could barely build a fire.

Not to mention what people could do to you out there, a pretty woman all alone. You were better off with Joel, whether you liked it or not.

One afternoon you decided to sit outside and read. You'd grabbed your Bible, only keeping it at this point because it reminded you of your father.

You were beginning to feel slightly comforted as you read, being brought back to sitting in church, Sundays that felt like a lifetime ago, before you heard a chuckle and an unfamiliar voice.

"Never thought I'd see a whore readin' a Bible."

You looked up from where you laid on the grass to see a handsome man, younger than Joel, looking down at you with a smirk on his face.

You had no idea how to respond to him, you sat up in the grass and looked around but there was only one other man milling about in the distance.

"I-I like reading it." You forced out, your voice small.

"You a good little Christian girl?" He teased and you felt your face grow hot. You looked up at him, his brown skin gleamed in the golden sunlight and his deep brown eyes looked kinder than most of the men at this camp. Still, he made you uneasy.

"I don't know." You shrugged and looked down, yanking at the dry grass, "It just...feels nice...readin' it."

He was quiet and you looked up out of the corner of your eye. He stepped closer so that you were at eye level with his covered cock, just a few inches away.

"You believe in God?"

You were quiet.

You looked up at him where he seemed to tower over you, his head cocked to the side and his hands in his pockets.

"I-I don't know." You mumbled.

He just nodded.

"Shit you been through, I ain't surprised."

"I-" You started and took a breath, realizing how meek you sounded.

"Sometimes I think He's there watching over me but...it’s gettin’ harder to think like that." You stared straight ahead into the tree line, wondering how close Joel was.

"No shit." He breathed out, "After all, what kinda god would let a nice little girl like you end up like this?"

The words hit you like a brick and your stomach churned with nausea because you knew it was true.

This man had no doubt seen you on display multiple times at the brothel, seen you debase yourself along with all the other girls there. Now, things have gotten even worse for you.

You couldn't find it in you to respond because you knew you would agree with him, and you couldn't bear to speak the words aloud. You stared at the ground as your fingers clenched at the grass, yanking the blades out in a nervous fidget you'd picked up a few days since coming here.

He crouched down and stroked your cheek with a finger, causing you to flinch away.

"Relax baby," He breathed, "I ain't gonna hurt you."

You tensed up but let him touch your cheek again, your eyes darting around nervously as if Joel would suddenly appear, full of rage at the sight of another man touching you.

"Hmm" He chuckled, "Shame I never got to try out your pretty little cunt before Joel took you all to himself."

You gasped softly.

"I'd take good care of you." He smirked and swept your hair out of your eyes, he leaned in closer, "I wouldn't have been able to keep my mouth off of you." He breathed, "Can't stop thinking about how juicy your cunt looked when he was showin' it off to all of us."

You shuddered as he ran a thumb over your cheekbone before turning your face to look at him. You stared at him, willing your expression to neutrality, trying not to let any of your emotions show.

You stared at each other for a while, the tension between you palpable. He huffed out a light laugh.

"Who knows," He murmured, "Maybe I'll get my chance someday." He pulled your bottom lip down slightly with his thumb. You stared him down, refusing to give him anything.

"Well, we got some supper on the fire." He said, suddenly casual as he stood up and began to walk away, "Joel's aimin' to be home by sunset." Then he stalked away, his walk smooth and alluring.

You didn't know what to make of the interaction, or of the way your pussy throbbed and wetness pooled between your legs.

-

Joel made it home as the golden light began to disappear and the sky deepened to a dark blue.

Your spine stiffened as you saw his silhouette breach the horizon. You had relaxed somewhat throughout the day, with Joel gone. He'd left at dawn, the bed cold by the time you woke up, and you found a part of yourself wishing he’d been around but also relishing his absence. He could be so terrifying and unpredictable and it had been nice to get time by yourself. Still, you had felt a strange yearning for him to return, yet now that he was here...you weren’t really sure how you felt.

Adrenaline flooded your system as he came closer and closer, dismounting his horse and bringing it into a small paddock a ways away. You got the sudden urge to run to him.

Your fear and hatred along with arousal and attachment towards him made you feel sick. You opted to sit on his bed, pretending to read one of your books.

Your heart pounded as you heard him walking up to the door. It slowly swings open, the creak of the hinges sending a bolt through you. Joel trudged in, his body heavy with tiredness. He leaned against the wall, sighing as he closed the door and toed off his boots; shedding his outer layers, he laid down his rifle.

You stared at each other a moment before he slowly made his way over to one of his chairs and flopped down.

You kept your eyes trained on him over the edge of the book and his dark gaze bored into you. Every muscle in your body was tensed and ready, you knew what was coming.

Joel jerked his head in a motion for you to come over and you stood up almost too quickly. He registered it with a small smirk on his face, making your core ache.

You approached him slowly, pulling your nightgown over your head and discarding it on the floor somewhere. You let your hips sway as you walked towards him, his eyes transfixed on your bare breasts and the curls that sat between your thighs. He licked his lips and you knew he was desperate to taste you.

"C'mere" His voice was deep, almost a growl.

He pulled you into his lap, having you straddle him in his chair. You expected him to pull his cock out and sink you down on it right away but instead he sighed and leaned back, letting his eyes run over you.

Your cheeks warmed and you forced yourself to keep eye contact, trying not to shrink under his searing gaze.

"Where-um, How was your day?" You stumble over your words, unsure of the right thing to say. You found yourself wanting to talk to him about anything. The only conversation you'd had with a person today had been the mysterious man who had approached you a few hours ago.

"Was alright." He muttered absentmindedly as he ran a hand over your head, letting his fingers trail down to your chest.

"Oh..."

You couldn't bear to let the conversion die before it even began so you tried again.

"What did yall do?"

He ran the tips of his fingers over your breasts, making you shiver. He looked up again, his eyes cold.

"It ain't right for a lady to hear."

You kind of liked it when he said things like that, made you feel like a respectable woman instead of the whore that he knew you were.

You couldn't help but huff out a laugh at the thought.

"I think I can handle it," You gave him a small smile that he did not return, "I've seen all sorts of things at the brothel."

Joel's expression grew harder,

"I ain't nothin like the sad pieces of shit that go to that place." He spat and you flinched.

"I-I'm sorry." You said quickly, you tried to duck your head down but Joel grabbed your chin roughly and made you look at him.

"I was out providing for you." He sneered, "You wanna hear about all the fucked up shit I've done? You wanna hear about my fuckin' day?"

His words shocked you and you squirmed in his hold,

"I-"

"If I tell you about all the people I killed today, is it gonna make your cunt wet?" He spoke, his voice deeper, huskier and you gasped.

"Today?" You couldn't stop yourself from recoiling as you looked at him in horror. He stared right back, his face a cold hard mask.

Your blood ran cold as he circled your breast with his finger, getting closer and closer to your nipple.

"What'd I tell you?" He scoffed, "Y'don't need to be hearin' about all that."

"I just...wanted to know..." You trailed off, unsure of what you had even been trying to do by starting this conversation.

"Well I don't wanna fuckin' talk about it." Joel rolled his eyes, "Look at how scared you're already gettin'."

"I'm not scared." Your tone betrayed you completely.

Joel huffed out a laugh, you weren't fooling him.

"It's okay darlin'" He purred in your ear, "I like it when you're scared."

His voice made you shiver with arousal.

"Makes your cunt get so tight." His voice took on an edge of desperation as he sunk two fingers into you.

You let out a sharp moan as you clenched around him, squeezing his forearm.

Joel just laughed softly, huskily.

"Yeah that's right. Ride my hand like the good little whore you are."

The way he spoke to you made you feel so dirty, it felt so wrong to find any semblance of enjoyment in this. But it was the fact that it was so wrong, so twisted, that filled you with a strange feral desire.

You tried to shove your conflicting thoughts away, focusing instead on how he was making you feel, how good he thought you were for him. You moaned as you rode his hand.

Joel suddenly pulled his fingers out of you making you whine at the loss of contact. He laughed at you, how desperate you must seem, how pathetic; a sad little whore he found and took home with him.

He stuck those same fingers in your mouth, making you jerk back at the bitter taste. Joel grunted and held the back of your head in place, keeping his fingers in your mouth.

"Clean 'em off for me." He commanded.

You tentatively closed your mouth around them and sucked, a spike of arousal shooting down to your pussy. No man had ever had you do this before, made you taste yourself.

"Yeah..." He whispered as you sucked on his fingers harder, whimpering.

He pulled them out and ran his wet fingers over one of your nipples, pinching and making you cry out.

"Couldn't stop thinkin' about this." His voice was still soft as he trailed his fingers down your stomach, "bout you..."

He rubbed painstakingly small circles on your clit, making you moan even louder.

"Couldn't stop thinkin' about your soft little cunt, all wet and grippin' my fucking cock."

His words had you in a tailspin, the fact that he was this infatuated with you, all he could think about was your cunt. Not just any whore's cunt, yours.

You knew it was fucked up but some part of you reveled in how wanted you were by this man, how prized.

"I thought about you too." You confessed softly.

"Mmm did you?" Joel murmured and moved a lock of your hair away from your face.

"Yes" You whispered and hid your face in his neck, his large frame engulfing you as he reached around you and dragged a finger from the front of your pussy all the way up to your asshole.

You moaned and shivered, rolling your hips against him shamelessly. This wasn't like working at the brothel, where the men you serviced so often became a blur. You were lucky if the encounter was half pleasurable. Most of the time you would pretend you were enjoying it, it was all just a performance for you.

But this...this was real, raw. Joel made you feel weak, like you couldn't resist him.

"I know" He whispered in your ear as he began rubbing circles on your clit once more, "I know"

"Joel" you whined and pawed at his chest as your orgasm rose within you. In the soft light of the cabin, you let it all melt away, everything except this, this feeling.

You gasped as he moved his fingers faster, moaning into his neck as you came, your release coating his fingers and dripping down into his lap. You looked down in shock, then looked back up at him.

You just stared at him, you weren't sure what to say. That had never happened to you before. After a while Joel smirked and moved his fingers back up to your lips. You opened your mouth immediately and sucked on his fingers again, it made your sensitive cunt throb with arousal and you whimpered around him.

"Mmm fuck" Joel murmured, "You made a mess baby."

You froze with his fingers in your mouth. Was he mad? You hadn't meant to.

Joel seemed to sense the shift and withdrew his hand.

"I'm sorry..." You swallowed, your face burning.

Joel, to your surprise, laughed.

"You poor thing, they didn't take very good care of your little cunt down at that whorehouse did they?"

"No man there ever did what you do to me."

"And what's that?" He asked, his tone laced with arrogance and a hint of playfulness, it spurred you on.

"No man down there looked at me the way you do." You said softly, and you knew that it was true, from the moment you had locked eyes.

You ran a hand down his shirt, unbuttoning as you went. Your conflicting feelings about him earlier were far away in the back of your mind. Because he was right, none of the men back at the brothel had ever been capable enough to take care of you, not like him.

"No man there touched me the way you do." You continue, kissing up his jaw making him moan.

"No man there has ever made me orgasm like that." You let out a squeal right after as he spanks your ass.

"I know" He growled, his forehead pressed into yours, "I could see it in your eyes. Knew you needed a real fuckin' man."

You whimpered and nodded,

"Joel please..." Your hands clawed at his belt as his hands enveloped your breasts, you arched your back as he massaged them.

"You fucking want it don't you?" He panted, and you nodded feverishly, "You little fuckin' whore."

You moaned at his words and he spanked you again,

"Thought I told you to answer me when I talk to you."

"Fuck I want it." You moaned, "Please Joel, please I want your cock."

"Go 'head and take it then."

Your stomach fluttered and you reached for his belt buckle before you could talk yourself out of it. Because all you wanted in this moment was him inside of you.

You deftly pulled out his cock and sat up, letting him align himself with your cunt before he grabbed your hips and pulled you down. You cried out at the stretch, at how fucking good it felt to be full of him.

"Oh fuck" Joel sighed and leaned his head back in his chair, closing his eyes as he let out a slow deep breath. You felt his whole body relax, tension he'd been carrying with him throughout the whole day finally leaving him with every squeeze of your cunt.

You just sat there for a moment, watching his chest rise up and down and his eyes flutter. He slowly brought his head back up to face you. Sighing again as he began running his hands over your body, playing with you languidly.

This was something you had begun to learn about Joel; when he could, he liked to take his time with you. It was almost tantalizing.

He ran his fingertips ever so lightly up your sides, making you shiver and clench his cock. He groaned and gripped your side as he leaned in and kissed you bruisingly, licking into your mouth and claiming you all over again. You moaned against him as he held the back of your head.

You let him take you, consume you, carve a space for himself deep inside of you. This was nothing like anything you'd had back at the brothel.

Joel broke the kiss and leaned down to take one of your nipples into his mouth, sucking gently as he held your breast in place. The sensation sent an electric current through you and you gasped, your hips beginning to grind on him of their own volition. He moaned against you and wrapped his arms around your back, pulling you even closer. His tongue swirled around your nipple as he sucked and bit you, driving you over the edge.

You began grinding your hips on him faster, chasing your high with a deft precision that came with being a whore. Joel pulled his mouth off of you, gasping and moaning. His eyes wide and face contorted in pleasure.

You rarely saw him like this, saw his carefully placed mask slip and got a peek at the feral, crazed man underneath.

Your cunt spasmed around his cock as your pleasure built within you. You chased it desperately, the day had been so dull and empty; suddenly you needed this.

“Mmmm Joel” you whine, your voice getting more and more high pitched as you grabbed at his hair and leaned forward, using your hold on him to drive his cock deeper into you.

“Fuck wait-“ Joel’s gruff voice in your ear was cut off as he moaned depravedly. He struggled to keep quiet, his hold on your hips tightening.

He was coming undone, unraveling at the intense and feverish pace of your hips, snapping forward over and over again, riding him like you would a horse.

He rolled his hips up to meet yours desperately, his eyes locked on the way your tits bounced as you rode him.

Your moans got more and more high pitched as you neared closer and you dug your fingernails into his shoulders as you chased your high.

Joel tried to move you off of him but you were so close. Without thinking you pushed him back in his seat with all your strength and ground on his cock, letting it move and massage that special place inside of you.

Your pussy spasmed around him as you soaked him, shuddering and moaning. The pleasure felt unreal and you moaned and panted, letting your head fall onto his chest as your hips slowed; feeling like you’d been sent to another world.

Suddenly you felt Joel’s hands on you, pulling you off of him in a vice grip and throwing you down onto the bed.

“Who the fuck told you that you were in charge?” He seethed, his face flushed, hair wild and cock rock hard, glistening with your cum where it jutted out of his jeans.

You couldn’t help but let your eyes fall down to it.

Joel scoffed and got down on the bed. He got between your legs and pulled you by your knees so that his hardness bumped your cunt.

“I’m sorry,” you moaned as his tip brushed against your clit, “you just felt so good.” It was a weak apology and Joel knew it.

He shoved his cock into you, hard. He set a brutal pace immediately, snapping his hips against you over and over. You cried out at how sensitive you were.

“You wanna use me to get your little cunt all satisfied?”

“No…” you managed to gasp out as you clutched onto the bedding for dear life.

“That ain’t how it’s gon’ work around here sweetheart.” He spat, “You don’t get to fucking disobey me.” His voice rose as he fucked you even harder than before. His cock was hitting so deep inside you it began to hurt.

“I won't, I wont I promise!” You cried out.

Joel growled as he wrapped a huge hand around your throat,

“Just gotta put you in your place don’t I?” He rasped and drove his cock inside of you.

His hold on your throat caused your head to spin and your pussy to throb. Thankfully the pain you had felt earlier was beginning to turn into pleasure and you could feel another orgasm rising within you.

You were too sensitive though, every stroke of his cock was too much. You whined as you hurtled towards the edge, not even feeling like you were ready to fall off of it.

Your release hit you like a train and you screamed and shuddered as you clung to him, crying out his name over and over again as if it were a prayer.

You panted as you came down but Joel didn’t let up the pace. You sucked in a breath and tried to move off of him but he held you in place.

“I ain’t done yet sweetheart.”

“Joel please I-I can’t…”

“Can’t imagine a whores cunt could ever get tired.” He smirked and you knew he was punishing you for how you’d used his cock earlier.

“None of them were like you.” You choked out, “None of them had your cock.”

Joel moaned and seemed to lose himself in the rhythm. You continued to tell him what you knew he wanted to hear.

“I-I’m sorry, I just couldn’t resist you…your cock Joel…it-“ you whined as he hit deep inside.

“What?” He panted, his eyes crazed and his hips rhythm getting uneven, he was close.

“It’s perfect.” You breathe and realize that you’re not lying, at all.

Joel lets out a string of moans as he comes deep inside of you. You sigh as the warmth fills you, soothing your abused pussy.

Your cunt flutters around him as he lies on top of you, catching his breath for a moment before he gets up, pulling out of you.

He clears his throat as he steps away and you reach out for him, only to have him ignore you.

“Joel?” You ask tentatively as he sits back down in the chair.

“Spread your legs.” He commands.

Your stomach flares with arousal and you feel your puffy and used cunt throb all over again.

You slowly spread your legs for him, showing him what he’s done to you. The cold air felt somewhat soothing on your swollen cunt and you moaned softly as you clenched around nothing.

You feel his cum leaking out of your hole slowly. Joel watches it, his eyes transfixed on your cunt.

“Good girl.” He murmurs

-

He couldn’t tear his eyes away, mesmerized by the mess between your thighs. The way your pussy would sometimes clench and spasm, forcing more of his spend out. He wondered if you even knew you were doing that.

He began loading up his pipe with tobacco when you shifted.

“Keep ‘em open.” He grumbled and settled back, sparking up. He breathed deep, letting the smoke fill his lungs.

“Sorry.” You propped a pillow between your back and the wall, making sure to keep your legs spread for him.

“Yeah…” he breathed, “should be used to it, keepin’ your legs spread all the time.”

He watched as your eyes widened and how you sucked in a breath. Your cunt spasmed and he smirked. It was a great idea to have you spread open like this for him; he could see exactly how his words affected you, because he knew they did.

“Men at the brothel never wanted to just look at me like this.” You cut through the silence, your voice soft and breathy in a way that made him want to fuck you all over again. 

Joel’s eyes flitted up from your cunt up to your face.

Your expression was a mix of apprehension and wild desire. 

“None of them ever really looked at me.”

He smiled, you were coming along so well.

“I like seein’ what’s mine. Seein’ you like this...” He took another puff, “Can’t hide nothin’ from me when you’re like this sweetheart.”

Your eyes darted around and you tensed, your cunt clenching around nothing.

You still didn’t close your legs. Joel couldn’t help but laugh softly, you were coming along very well indeed.

@pedge-page just remembered that u asked to be tagged in pt 2 lol thanks for the support❤️

[ihrtsimi]

— all you need ;

→ pairing — minlix + m!reader

→ summary — felix and minho have been secretly watching over the supposed boy of each of their dreams. when they each finally get the courage to corner their boy and take what’s theirs, they realize that they’ve been in love with the same man.

→ genre — smut

→ warnings — extreme kinks (like very extreme, please be cautious), stalking, threesomes, cnc, bimbofication / mindbreaking, double penetration, degrading praise, god + master honorifics, oral (reader receiving and giving), domtop!minlix and subbottom!reader

→ word count — 2.45k

→ author’s note — oh boy, this is my first smut and i’m starting right out the gate with some heavy kinks! i saw this req by @nxthnii and just HAD to write it.

→ song (s) currently stuck in my head —

i can transform ya by chris brown feat. swizz beatz + lil wayne

i’m coming back to you.

so i really hope that you don’t mind.

i know you want me too.

even though you’re not mine,

you got that look in your eyes.

there were two things ruminating in minho’s brain at the moment: how undeniably horny he was and how breathtakingly beautiful you looked in the cheeky polaroid of you he was currently masturbating to. he didn’t even realize how he got here. from his perspective, the picture of you and his cock just landed in his grip, and he wasn’t complaining. it didn’t take him long to finish, his mind cloudy and swirling with the imprinted image of his favorite person in his mind as he lie underneath his silk sheets. he couldn’t sit in his filth for too long before jumping up and heading into the shower. even though the water was piping hot, his bare body was cold; the loneliness and craving for you overwhelming him so badly that he grabbed his phone charging on his bathroom’s mahogany countertop to call the only contact in his phone, his friend felix.

“hello?” felix answered sleepily, despite it being 8 pm.

“i gotta get out the house, man. desperately,” minho responded, not even acknowledging the other’s greeting.

felix immediately understood, ending their conversation short after letting the other know he was on the way. it didn’t take long for him to arrive at minho’s apartment complex, a quick run up two flights of stairs and a doorbell ring away from ending up crosslegged on minho’s black leather couch. the two haven’t spoken in a minute, their individually busy schedules preventing them. yet, conversation came easy. two hours of talking eventually led down the path of relationships, a topic the two men haven’t spoken about before.

“so… how’s dating going? any current prospects up for the love of the illustrious lee minho?” felix joked, his arms rested behind his head while his short fingers toyed with his blond locks.

minho never knew how to respond to that question. how does he admit publicly that he’s been stalking the same boy for three years and is deluded enough to think they’ll one day be together?

“nothing much, you know.. just.. hanging.” was the answer he ended up giving felix, his mind blank before clearing his throat to reciprocate the question.

“i’ve been thinking about this one guy,” felix started, “he goes to my gym and i stare at him while he weight trains.” felix gushed, his eyes glistening as a rose tint began to pepper his cheeks. “it sucks, though. i don’t know his name. but, i know that he works at this coffee shop up the street, and i was planning on going there today to see if i could ask him out!”

felix watched minho’s cat like lips curl up into a smirk. he began understandingly, “i think you should go after him.” felix’s eyes widened, “are you sure, hyung? i know you wanted some company.” minho nodded in response, beginning to stand and collect his belongings to leave his apartment. “i definitely do. i have something…,” he paused to check his watch for the time, “…that i need to do myself. so, go! have your fun.” felix jumped up giddily, rushing to grab his things before rushing out with a ‘bye!’

as minho laid in the overgrown bushes of the the apartment complex that was now so familiar to him later that night, his eyes darted around frantically. he knew where you worked. he knew where you slept. and, he waited for you every night. he knew what times you left and came, watching protectively to assure you arrived home safe. felix had left his apartment about 30 minutes ago, and right when he left, it was time for minho to arrive at his watchful post. he assumed today’s schedule was no different as he sat and waited, checking his apple watch occasionally as time passed by.

9:30…

10:00…

10:30…

11:00….

this was uncharacteristic of you. usually, you’d be home by 10:15. minho’s watch, phone, and patience we’re slowly draining, and his irritation only worsened when he saw your figure stumbling drunkily towards your front door with… someone else? if he expected anything, it definitely wasn’t that. he’d been observing your every move for years, and you weren’t the type to get blasted after work and rush home in the after hours with a random stranger. his mind was racing, thoughts flooding him as he flowed through his concurrent emotions. after irritation, however, came anger. anger that you would dare promiscuously flaunt yourself around. that you would dare have him worried sick about your well-being. that you dare be with anyone else but him.

it didn’t take long after seeing you enter the building before he followed earnestly behind, his eyes low and passionate as he tried to get a good look of the man you were with, the man he would have to eliminate. soon enough, he was at your front door. with shaky hands, he reached in his pocket for the secret key that he owned to your apartment and unlocked the door, his eyes wide with shock as he walked in and shut the door behind himself.

there you were. on your knees for the stranger with his cock deep down your throat. the overhead fixture gleaming brightly as it exposed your perverted state on your kitchen floor. the stranger’s hand on your chin as he sat at your table, your eyes glistening— drunk, and fucked out, and the thick cock of the man taking what belonged to minho. he didn’t know how to address this situation. should he cough? run up and shove himself down your throat? go grab a knife and attack the stranger? his mind was in complete survival mode; territorially wanting to put a stop to his worst nightmare. his brain fumbled through these few options before just deciding to go up and make the stranger reveal himself.

minho rushed over, shoving the other man aggressively. “what the fuck do you think you’re doing?” he growled, his vision and the figures in front of him growing hazy in the heat of his rage. once his eyes settled, the sound he almost let out was abysmal. the stranger was none other than lee felix. he didn’t know how to react, his throat suddenly dry while he attempted to speak.

“f-felix…?” he croaked, his eyes wide like a deer in headlights. felix was equally as stunned. he hadn’t a clue what was going on. after leaving minho’s apartment, he rushed to the cafe where you worked, barely catching you before you left. the two of you chatted for a while before ending up at the bar two blocks from your apartment. it was felix’s idea to head to the bar instead of the much closer restaurant, and if you asked, he wouldn’t tell you it was to get you drunk. but, that’s exactly what it was. after achieving his goal, he walked you home, perversely waiting for you to get drunk and horny enough after letting him in to let him ruin you. luckily for him, that was as soon as humanly possible. you sat still on your knees, your body hot and breath uneven as your drunken mind tried to process the events unfolding in front of you. part of you was terrified. how did this stranger get in? why are they upset that you're fucking felix? and why does it seem the two of them know each other?

but...

another part of you was too horny to function. your mind racing with the previous fantasies you've had of someone breaking into your apartment and fucking you senseless, and you wouldn't let this opportunity pass up. so you finally spoke.

"i can take you both," you said as you began crawling seductively until you sat prettily between the gap in the two men. they stared at each other, unable to speak. felix and minho both finally had the boy they had been pursuing underneath them, and they each wouldn't let an opportunity of their own fall through. they glanced at each other, a competing level of lust filling their looks before they moved their attention back to you.

"on your bed. arms and legs spread out. you're going to experience the fuck of a lifetime, boy," minho snarled sexily, his eyes dark as he began to walk to your bedroom. you quickly stood up, rushing towards the room feverously with felix rushing eagerly behind you. as you laid on the bed, minho began to unbuckle his belt before gesturing for felix to do the same. as minho began to tie your arms up against your bed frame, he watched you wither around. you were reaching the peak of your drunkenness and your neediness was fading, so you whined softly, begging for some kind of stimulation quickly. that earned you a smack across the face from minho, who chuckled at you darkly.

"look at you, baby. desperate for your two strangers to touch you just so you can get your perverted little climax," he spoke before leaning down to whisper in your ear, the hair on your neck standing up at the feeling of his minty breath against your hot skin, "unfortunately for you, that won't be coming so soon." instantaneously, he latched to your lips, kissing you deeply like he would never kiss anyone else ever again. the kiss was surprisingly passionate and sensitive despite the circumstances, and something about that fact lit the fire in your stomach all over again, your cock beginning to twitch just from being craved so deeply. felix just sat and watched intensely, his hand lightly palming himself before he cleared his throat to announce his presence. "pay some attention to me too, angel. i would really appreciate your help again," he started as he began to make his way to the head of the bed. he looked at minho for conformation before patting your cheek lightly as a signal for you to open wide. you opened your mouth wide with your tongue flat and eyes wide with excitement, and felix couldn't contain himself, shoving his length deep down your throat again with a guttural groan.

minho was growing increasingly jealous just watching the scene, and it only egged him on to be more aggressive. he moved his kisses down from your lips to your collarbones, sucking and biting on them so hard, you thought you were bleeding. every whimper you let out only grew his confidence, and eventually, he was all the way to your nipples, giving them the same treatment as the rest of his marks. just watching your dick get progressively harder from being faced-fuck and teased so slowly was making a tent large in minho's pants.

"i didn't know this was the boy you were talking about, felix," said minho as he kissed from your left nipple to the middle of your chest and progressively moved down your stomach. as you watched minho make his way to the spot you wanted touched the most, you shuddered which elicited a tsk from the elder.

"and i didn't know you had your eyes on anyone. i guess it's time to fight for him," felix retorted, his hand raking through your h/c strands as he held your head in place and thrusted.

"may the best man win," shrugged minho before he finally wrapped his plump pink lips around your leaking tip, sucking on it ever so slightly. "but, it seems i've already got him under my control. isn't that right, baby? tell felix how much you love when your god touches you."

"fu-fuck yes, god! i love it when you touch me," you exclaimed, your brain mushy from the stimulation. obviously, that made felix angrily thrust faster into your throat, abusing it mercilessly before growling out in his huskily deep accented voice, "well, tell your god that you only need your master, and that you only want his cock." at this point, drool was falling out of your mouth and your throat was so full you could barely speak, so all you managed to muster out was a pitiful "m-master..." before you gagged so hard felix's cock fell out of your mouth. with this time to collect yourself and gather your thoughts, you looked up to both of your domineering partners, your eyes low from being fucked silly.

"i want you both inside of me. i want you both to coat my inside with your gross fucking cum, and i want to be both of yours. please my god. please, my master. i want to feel so good," you begged as you desperately tugged on minho's pant leg.

"fucking whore. such a pretty little fuckdoll for us, right, felix," minho questioned as he watched you pull on his pants, "should we give our boy what he needs?" felix sat and pretended to ponder, hesitating only so he could hear your sounds. "i think so, hyung. why don't you take him first," felix said with a devilish smile, slapping his cock against your cheeks with a groan at the precum beading on your face before moving back around to the head of the bed and beginning to strip. minho followed suit, taking his clothes off slowly as he gave you a show. the two of them then positioned themselves on the bed in front of your wet hole with minho underneath you before he forced himself in hastily. he began thrusting at an inhuman speed, stretching you out like he was hate fucking you.

"god... you're so fucking tight, baby," minho grunted as he gripped your waist and took what belonged to him for the first time.

before long, he instructed felix, who was impatiently waiting on the side stroking himself, that he could finally fit in as well. felix immediately took the opportunity and moved in front of you and began to struggle to insert himself inside of you. after a slight readjustment, he slid himself balls deep inside of you. the two men sat still as patiently as they could to let you grow accustomed to the fullness in your stomach. they could both tell you were close and wanted to use you as much as possible until you withered for them. unexpectedly, they both began to thrust at a similarly aggressive rhythm, the feeling of both cocks fucking your insides driving you so insane, you could barely form coherent thoughts.

"nghh.. feels so so so good," you moaned shakily, your mind completely broken.

"good boy. such a good fucking boy," felix grunted as he collapsed onto his arms over you and minho's bodies, fucking into you feverishly. once you felt them both hit that specific spot in your prostate, you wailed, cumming all over both you and felix's stomach. the sight was enchanting, and made both men exclaim. "fuck, i'm gonna fucking cum!" minho moaned as you began to rock your hips into him to stimulate the men even more. "me... me too...," felix whined as they both simultaneously filled your hole to the brim with their cum.

as you all came down from your heightened states, you laid in each other's arms, catching your breath as you studied the features of the beautiful men intertwined with you. and all you could hope was that this would be happening again soon.