#She does not know why she has two pets now but she loves them

[nebulaafterdark]

At The Pleasure Of The Crown

Aegon x Velaryon(Strong)!Reader

Aemond x Velaryon(Strong)!Reader

Summary: Aegon and his wife regularly visit the silk streets. One night they happen upon Aemond behind one of the curtains, the rest is history.

18+ ONLY MDNI Targcest, smut, infidelity, manipulation, etc.

It begins in the pleasure house, when Aegon tears back one of the curtains to find his brother. Nude and curled around one of the women.

“Haha,” Aegon points, “Aemond the fierce.”

Even the guardsmen there on Aegon’s behalf, shift uncomfortably as he begins taunting his brother. Though none of them will say as much.

“Stop it, you awful man.” Y/N bats at her husband.

He catches her wrists, pinning them to her sides. “Awful man?” Aegon muses, “that’s not very nice, my only love.”

“You are mean.”

Aegon frowns, “not to you.”

“You should not be mean to your brother either.”

“Are you truly angry with me?” He asks, releasing her wrists to twirl a bit of dark hair around his finger.

“Yes,” Y/N pouts.

“Please, say it isn’t so, my darling girl.” Aegon wraps his arms tightly around her, peppering her face with kisses. “I adore you.”

She says nothing, sighing against him. Stroking the stubble on his chin.

He chases her finger with his lips, “forgive me.”

“Be kind.” Y/N insists.

“Of course,” he nods, “I will be on my best behavior. I swear it.”

Y/N kisses his lips once in parting, shooing him away.

“My wife,” Aegon says to the crowd of men, “she is better than I deserve.” He stands, holding the curtain back, “I will miss her dearly.” Aegon pulls himself away, “now, a round of drinks for all; at the pleasure of the crown!”

Y/N smiles, with a shake of her head. “Might you excuse us?” She asks of Aemond’s company.

“Of course, your grace.” The older woman nods, taking her leave.

“I apologize for Aegon. I do hope you were finished, at least.”

Aemond says nothing.

“I’ve given up the opportunity to bed a woman to be here with you.” Y/N tells him, “let no one say I do not treat you fairly.”

“You should go to her. My brother does so love when there are two of you.”

“At least I’m loved.”

“He loves you to the fullest extent he is capable.”Aemond understands well. “What suprises me most is that you allow these behaviors.”

“Aegon is who he is, we can choose to either love or loath him for it.” Some people are born with sadness sewn in.

“Why love him then, if it is your choice?”

“Why do you come back to this place for comfort?” Y/N purses her lips, “why does anyone?”

Aemond stares blankly, awaiting an answer.

“Because it’s what we know. My late grandsire, the king, insisted it was my duty to keep Aegon contented. I have performed my duty.”

“My father has been dead for years now, with your mother seated peacefully upon his throne.” He hums, “you don’t strike me as a woman content forever unchanging.”

Y/N makes herself comfortable on the silk sheets, lying fully clothed beside Aemond, in all his glory. “I am content.”

He continues staring, studying her, allowing gentle hands to brush hair away from his face.

“Do you like to be petted?”

“Do you enjoy drowning in cups? Or is that another of my brother’s interests being forced upon you?”

“Aegon’s never forced me to do a thing.” Y/N admits, “he lives only to please me.”

“I will say that must be true, considering he does not have a hoard of bastards in the fighting pit.”

“He is careful.” Y/N confirms, “he told me once that our children were kissed by the gods because our love created them. He is particularly rigid about moon tea, even with his favorite ladies.”

“For once, my brother and I see eye to eye.”

“And where, on this matter, do you differ?”

“If you were my wife, I would not allow you here. You would scarcely see the outside of our chambers.”

“You would lock me away?”

“I certainly would not leave you alone with him, in a room at the pleasure house.” Aemond drawls.

“Aegon believes our bodies are naught but vessels for pleasure and of course, producing heirs. He holds little interest in who warms my bed, so long as he is the only one to know my heart.” Y/N explains. “He is fiercely possessive over it.”

“That is what I would desire most from you.”

“We would never lie together?”

Aemond sighs, “we would. Every hour. Until you were molded in the shape of me.”

Y/N swallows, harshly.

“That is the way I would love you.”

————————————————————————

Y/N makes her way down to the library, on nights she cannot sleep. Happening across Prince Aemond, who she’s scarcely seen since that night in the pleasure house. He lazes about one of the chairs, with a large book in hand.

Y/N thinks at first, she best not disturb him, but as she passes, he stares up at her. “What are you reading?”

“The anthology of serpents.”

“Is it any good?”

“I am reading in the hopes of finding sleep. It works best if the subject doesn’t interest me.” Aemond drags a finger along the edge of the page, flipping to the next.

“Right.” Y/N sifts through titles on the shelves.

“Have you read Aegon’s journal entries?”

“My husband keeps a journal? This is news to me.” Aegon’s never had much fascination with literature.

“The Conqueror.” Aemond clarifies.

“Of course,” Y/N shakes her head, “Aegon the Conqueror.”

“It’s a good read, in-”

“Three parts,” Y/N nods, “I’ve read them all.”

“Do you come to this place often?”

“Nearly every night.” The princess confirms.

“Always alone? Or accompanied by your husband?”

“A-alone.” She stammers, “I am often alone.”

“That is unfortunate.” Aemond hums. “Mayhaps I might find you here again.”

He does, of course. The next night and the night after that.

“Is it more comfortable with the eye patch on, or off?” Y/N wonders, having spent a fair share of time staring at him both ways.

“It makes little difference. The covering is mostly for the comfort of others, namely my mother. She was always quite saddened by the sight of it.”

“The sapphire is beautiful.” Y/N clears her throat.

“I’m glad you approve of your brother’s work.”

Y/N taps a finger against her wedding band as she speaks, “Lucerys is a gentle soul. It is not in his nature to attack viciously. He must’ve been very frightened.”

Aemond stands abruptly, leaving without a word. What could she know of what transpired between them that night in Driftmark? She was off nursing Aegon as he drowned in his cups.

Y/N returns to her apartments, finding comfort beneath the covers, she is nearly asleep when the door opens.

“What are you doing in here?” Aegon squints at her.

“I went to your rooms first, my love.” She yawns, “you were not there.”

“I need you in my bed.” Aegon tells her, “I need you always.”

“And you shall have me always. Come lie with me.” Y/N pats the space beside her.

Aegon strips down to his small clothes and joins her beneath the covers. “I thought you’d left me.”

Y/N sighs, passing a hand through his hair as he rests his head against her chest. “Why would I leave you, Aegon?”

“Because I am not worth staying for.” The words are muffled in the fabric of her nightgown.

“I love you.” Y/N reminds him. “I will not leave.”

————————————————————————

Y/N and Aemond spend many a night reading, seated across from each other. Though he was not thrilled about their conversation concerning Lucerys, Aemond never misses an evening.

They discuss their findings, when there is anything of interest in the history pages.

“I happened across this passage here,” Y/N plops the book unceremoniously into Aemond’s lap.

“Mmm,” he groans, shifting uncomfortably, “there goes the family jewels.”

Y/N covers her mouth with a hand. “Forgive me.”

“Mayhaps we might try something different this night. If you’re up to it.”

Y/N takes his outstretched hand, allowing him to lead her out to the training ground. “I am not trained by the sword.”

“I could teach you.” Aemond makes for the wooden training blades. “They will not cut you, but it is not pleasant to be struck.” He warns.

Y/N reaches out, grabbing the hilt. Testing the weight of it in her hand.

“Widen your stance.” Aemond tells her.

Y/N shuffles her feet apart, “like this?”

“Close enough.”

Her dark brows furrow in concentration and when their swords meet, Aemond relishes in the little grunting noises she makes.

“Ao vīlībagon olvie sȳrī syt mēre qilōni knows daorun hen egros.” You fight quite well for one who knows nothing of the sword.

She smiles, “bodmagho nyke skorkydoso naejot tatagon ao hen.” Teach me how to finish you off.

Aemond chuckles, “do not tempt me, girl.”

Y/N lunges for him, an untrained hand against the master, leaving herself exposed to his attack.

He uses the tip of his sword to lift her chin, “I win.”

She swallows, batting it away. “I want to go again.”

And so they do, until she is spent. Collapsing on the ground, as though he’s truly run her through with the blade. Aemond finds this more amusing than he lets on.

“Up,” he demands, “you will make a mess of yourself, rolling around in the dirt.”

“I will surely bathe after our activities, you needn’t worry.”

“Do you need me to carry you back to your apartments then?”

“After a while.” Y/N grins, resting a hand beneath her head as a makeshift pillow to gaze up at the night sky.

“What are you doing?” Aemond hovers over her.

“See for yourself.” Y/N insists.

Aemond grumbles, taking a seat in the dirt before fully reclining. “The moon?”

“The stars,” Y/N tells him. “When I was a girl my mother would point to the stars and ask what we saw in them.”

“To what possible end?”

Y/N shrugs, “entertainment, I suppose. Or gods forbid, fun.”

“What do you see?” Aemond asks, turning his face toward her.

“Well, just there, I see a hound.” Y/N points to a cluster of lights.

“A hound?” Aemond cocks his head to the side, following the line of her finger.

“Can’t you see?”

“Not at all.” He smirks.

“What do you see then?”

“A crown.” Aemond tells her.

“Where?” Y/N shuffles closer to him, hoping to see.

“Beside the sword.”

“There is no sword.”

“And I say, there is no hound.”

Aegon stumbles out towards the pair, listening to them bicker. “What are you doing?”

“Looking upon the stars, my love. Come lie with us.” Y/N waves him over.

Aegon smiles, indulgently. “Alright.” He joins them on the ground, opposite his brother, Y/N in the middle. “Not very comfortable, is it?”

“The sky is beautiful, is it not?”

Aegon blinks at it once, before turning back to her. “You are my moon and stars.”

Y/N rolls atop of him, kissing the expanse of his face, ten times over.

Oh to be so loved.

Aemond withdraws, prepared to take his leave.

“Goodnight, Aemond.” Y/N calls after him.

With a shake of his head, he calls back, “goodnight.”

————————————————————————

Aemond will never admit the amount of times his brother’s wife dances cross his mind during the day. He does his best to distract himself.

The sound of laughter travels down the hall, from their children’s rooms. Aegon is not much, in his brother’s eye. But even Aemond cannot deny fatherhood suits him.

“And then, from the sky, a big scary dragon swoops down to claim its next victim!” Aegon flaps his arms, parading around like a fool, as his children scatter. Giggling and hollering all the while.

Their youngest son runs to Y/N for protection.

“Come, my dearest love. I will save you.” She smiles, taking the little boy into her lap.

Aemond stands in the crack of the door; watching the scene unfold.

Princess Y/N grins from ear to ear as her husband gallops over, enveloping her in his arms.

“Oh no, mother! You’ve been eaten by the dragon.” Her daughter laughs.

“And I am still hungry.” Aegon smiles, turning his attention back to the eldest children.

Aemond turns away, continuing down the hall. Mayhaps he does want children. Mayhaps he wants them with her, but such things are foolish to desire. So he refuses to.

————————————————————————

“How do you get your hair so straight?” Y/N wonders. “It used to have wave to it, like Aegon’s.”

“From the looks of Aegon’s hair he could do with better hygiene.”

“Be kind,” Y/N chides him. “He has beautiful hair.”

“If you want access to trade secrets, you must allow me to speak freely.” Aemond challenges.

“I love Aegon.”

Aemond nods. “Of course”

“And that is fine by you?”

He smirks, “you’ve only now thought to ask?”

“I had not thought so much of it before.” She admits, “but now it is all I can-”

“If it is my permission you seek to continue loving your husband, I have overstepped.”

Y/N bites her tongue.

“I doubt he is asking whores for their blessing to go on loving you.”

“I wish only to be fair to you.” Y/N searches his eye.

“From the moment you pulled back the curtain in the pleasure house, you have been unfair to me.” Aemond tells her, “made my heart ache for you, made me long for you, then left with my brother when you were through. It did not seem to bother you then.”

“I did not mean for this to happen.”

“I believe that is true. You are not wanton for the suffering of others, but sometimes these things happen.”

“I am finished, if you’re angry with me.”

“Has no one been angry at you before?”

“No.” She shakes her head.

“Then, I am honored to be the first.” He brushes a kiss to her cheek. “Before you go, I have something for you.”

Y/N swallows.

“Turn around.” Aemond murmurs, reaching into his breast pocket.

Y/N does as she’s told, catching only a glimpse of glimmering metal before it meets her skin. Clasping at the back of her neck.

Aemond walks her toward his mirror, brushing dark hair over her shoulders so she can see it properly.

“Why give this to me now, if you are angry?” Her brows furrow.

Aemond traces a finger along her collarbone. “You will find that people are multifaceted. We have imperfections and sharp edges, but we are a direct reflection of the light shone upon us.”

————————————————————————

The necklace is beautiful, enough that even Aegon takes notice. Raising the subject in their chambers unlacing the back of her dress. The material falls free, pooling at her feet. Leaving only her shift and small clothes, which soon meet the same end.

“That is a lovely necklace, darling girl.” He runs his finger along the glittering blue jewels, hanging above her breasts. It looks familiar to him, though he cannot say why. His wife is often dripping in jewels he’s gifted her. There is no way of remembering them all. “Was it buried at the back of your jewelry box?”

Y/N smiles, bringing his hand up to kiss his fingertips and then place them upon her breasts. “It was a gift.”

“From whom, my only love?” He forces a grin, kneading the fleshy mounds.

“Aemond.”

No. A blow directly to his gut. He nods, giving the peaks of her breasts a tug before letting them fall free, sensitive and aching. “Upon the bed, my heart.” He smiles.

Y/N returns the gesture, sitting at the edge of the mattress.

“Lie back for me.”

Y/N does as he asks, allowing her legs to fall open, out of habit.

“Good girl.” Aegon drops to his knees, pressing his face to the altar and begins to pray. Every cruel word spoken against him does not exist here. He is safe between her thighs, with gentle hands carding his hair.

He would spend hours there, if she let him. Ignoring the bite of overstimulation to soothe his need for her. His jaw aches, working her writhing body through one peak to the next.

“Fuck,” Y/N sobs. Fighting the urge to press against his head for reprieve.

Aegon takes her hands in his, knotting their fingers together. When he tires of all her squirming, he trails kisses up to her pretty face. Nuzzling her nose with his own as he thumbs away tears.

Y/N sighs, contently. Relaxing enough to calm her breathing.

Aegon lowers his face to her breasts then, rolling and plucking at her nipples until they stand at attention. Sucking them between his teeth, laving his tongue over them until they too are sensitive. He leans up, pecking one final kiss to her lips before heading back to her cunt.

He spreads her legs wide, until her outer thighs rest on the mattress and his hands grip the insides firmly. “I am not finished.” He whispers.

Y/N whines, covering her face with both hands.

“I will be gentle.” He hushes her. “So, so, gentle.”

She cries out at the feel of his tongue lapping her folds. Everything ablaze.

He draws one last peak from his dearest love before he is satisfied, leaving her a quivering mess. “I want another child.”

Y/N nods, willing to give him anything.

“Turn around for me, up on your knees.”

Y/N rolls onto her belly, pushing up on her elbows and knees.

“Poor, little thing, leaking all over.” Aegon croons. “Does my brother not satisfy you?”

“We do not lie together.” Y/N tells him.

“What is it you do together?” Aegon’s lips twitch.

“Talk.”

He huffs a laugh. “You could talk to anyone, dearest. Why him?”

Y/N lifts a shoulder, “he is quite fascinating.”

“Have you come to care for him?”

“In the way you care for your ladies, I would wager.”

Aegon blinks, slightly dazed, as though he’s never considered it. “I love nothing in this world the way I love you.”

“As I love you.” Y/N peeks over her shoulder at him.

Aegon lines up his aching cock, sliding into her warm, with ease.

Y/N sighs, relishing the feel of him.

Aegon’s thoughts are plagued by the stupid sapphire necklace, bouncing between her breasts. Glittering against the bedding in the soft candle light, laughing at him.

He’s caught off guard by the force which possesses him to move her hair aside and yank the chain until it snaps.

“Ah,” Y/N rears back, clutching the skin of her burning neck.

“I am so terribly sorry, my only love.” Aegon apologizes, gathering her up, with her back to his chest. “It caught on my ring.” He kisses what he can reach of her flesh. He shouldn’t have done it, he knows it was wrong and he hates that he’s hurt her. “I will buy you a new necklace.”

Y/N reaches a hand back to caress his hair, eyes brimming with tears. “It felt as though you tugged.”

Aegon nuzzles her shoulder, leaning into her touch. “I will never harm you on purpose. Forgive me.”

Y/N nods, “of course.”

He turns her face toward him, enough for their lips to meet.

————————————————————————

Aemond does not see Y/N again, not for two nights. Whatever hold the wench has over him will not allow him to surpass that.

He finds her pacing the corridor nearest the library, wringing her hands. “What troubles you, Princess?”

Y/N sucks in a breath, “Aemond.”

“You have not been to the library.”

“I thought it best,” she nods.

“Why?” He leans against the pillar beside her.

“I do not wish to hurt you. After we last spoke, I realized that…”

“You would rather pace in a corridor, inflicting your own suffering than harm me?”

“I suppose I would.”

“If I wish to speak with Aegon about us, would you be opposed?” Aemond asks.

“What would you say?” Her eyes widen.

He taps her chin, “that is none of your concern, sweetling.”

“I love him dearly.” Y/N says, grabbing for his hand.

“Our marriage would only further serve to strengthen your claim to the throne. With Aegon and I at your side, there would be no one to contest you. Your mother, the Queen would be elated to have your claim upheld so fiercely.”

“You raised this matter with my mother?” Y/N whispers.

“I had to be sure it was an option, as I know you will forever toil in servitude of the crown. An honorable venture, for which you will find yourself in need of a King Consort well versed in the histories and matters of the realm.” Aemond takes another step toward her.

“A generous offer,” Y/N nods. “Still I must discuss this with my husband before any decision can be made.”

“Of course,” Aemond smiles.

————————————————————————

Y/N does discuss it with Aegon that night and the mere suggestion lands him in his brother’s room, prepared to kill him.

“I offered you a kindness, to wean you off of that woman at the pleasure house and this is how you repay me? By spitting in my face?” Aegon screams, the veins of his neck pulsing and red with fury.

“While you are busy fucking whores, it is my company your wife seeks. It is her mind which needs stimulating, and however unfortunate, I do not believe you are suited for the task.” Aemond holds both arms behind his back, unfazed by Aegon’s outburst.

“Y/N is the most precious thing in this world to me. She is mine, she has always been mine, she is always going to be mine. Take her cunt, if you must, but nothing more.”

Aemond purses his lips, “we are at an impasse then. I am quite taken with the whole of her.“

“It was me she swore oaths to, my children that grew inside her, my hand she holds. What do you want of her?”

“Soon she will swear the same oaths to me.” Aemond muses, “when I lie with her, it will be my seed that takes.“ He lifts a shoulder, “if you are kind to me, I may allow you to hold her hand as I do it.”

Part 2

[hansensgirl]

☠️ — 𝐒𝐚𝐥𝐭 𝐢𝐧 𝐭𝐡𝐞 𝐖𝐨𝐮𝐧𝐝

summary. | Steve Rogers and his wife have a precarious arrangement in which she can have as many affairs as she likes, as long as she doesn’t ask for a divorce. But a man like him only has so much patience. And there you are, his child’s babysitter, too sweet to resist.

pairings. | Dark!Steve Rogers x baby-sitter!fem!reader, Steve Rogers x Peggy Carter (brief), Peggy Carter x numerous OMCs (implied/mentioned).

warnings. | NON/DUB-CON (leaning more towards dubious consent), smut, age gap, Halloween celebrations, deceit, manipulation, Steve is mean to his wife, obsession, possessiveness, implied murder (not the reader), mentions of masturbation (m), fingering (f), kissing, nipple play, Sir kink, mild Daddy kink, creampie, dirty talk, power dynamics/imbalance, praise, mild degradation, pet names (sweetheart, sweetie, honey, baby, love), missionary, rough sex, mentions of exhibitionism, mentions of riding, and more. 18+ MINORS DNI!

word count. | ~4.8k

author’s note. | hello! happy belated halloween! i know i’m a bit late—i’m sorry. here’s the dark!steve fic i was talking about. it’s a Deep Water!AU. please enjoy and heed the warnings! thank you @cuttlefjsh for beta-ing and putting up with me! let me know what you think. thank you for reading! taglist: @hansensfics. MINORS DNI! 18+ ONLY

The leaves fall apart underneath the pace of his feet. The hill slopes downwards, and the branches snap and hit the ground. Steve keeps pushing—keeps running even though he’s long devolved from a jog. The burn in his lungs is beautiful. He’s breathless.

For once, he doesn’t have to think about little Sarah and her mother. He doesn’t have to worry like a housewife, even though he was once the man of the house.

Millions in revenue. Two vacation homes. Endless income. But it’s never enough for her.

When Steve reaches the creek, he stops. The Apple watch on his wrist clocks in an unhealthy amount of steps. Unhealthy for everyone else, at least. He’s always been above average, and now he’s just like the rest.

Another greying head in the sea of a crowd. Another typical client his shrink has with the same old problems—a cheating wife, a midlife crisis.

His phone buzzes, and Steve half-expects a reminder he doesn’t need. But it’s better—so much better than he could ever predict.

It’s you—your name with a heart. His spouse doesn’t even have that—she’s just got her entire government name with “wife” in parentheses.

Hi, Mr. Rogers. Hope you enjoyed your weekend! I wanted to confirm that I’m coming tonight. I texted Mrs. Rogers yesterday, but I haven’t received a reply yet. Sorry to be pushy. I just need to know in time. Thanks, and Happy Halloween! 🎃

He sighs. He’s never understood why you always go to Peggy first, even though you’ve seen her incompetency more than you do your own family. He’ll have a talk with you tonight—while Peggy is out on a date with her latest suitor.

Hey, honey. I hope your weekend is as wonderful as you are. Yes, we’re still on for tonight. Don’t worry about my wife. From now on, just come to me, okay? Be here by 7:00, please. Thanks. Happy Halloween! 👻

Steve replies a few minutes later, but you read his message immediately. The timestamp makes him smile. Soon, the ‘typing’ icon pops up and following it is your message.

Great, thank you so much! See you then :)

You even leave a ‘heart’ on his text message; he does the same to yours. A sigh escapes the older man’s chest. His heart has returned to its regular rate, and the sweat on his back has cooled.

The scene before him is gorgeous—but doesn’t even hold a candle to your beauty. The thought of you is more addictive than any illicit substance. It calms him down when he needs to and riles him up at the worst times.

Steve says it’s not fair. Peggy shouldn't have all the fun with her boyfriends—even when her husband gets rid of them quicker than need be. It’s exhausting to deviate from law enforcement for a woman who doesn’t care about her own family.

She gets to devise grand schemes and say mean words to him. She doesn’t bother with her own daughter. She doesn’t lift a finger or pay for a thing with money she earned. Steve has to live in the shadows—and he’s tired of it.

The almost 50-year-old man follows his usual trail back home. Sirens pass behind him, heading toward some emergency that he undoubtedly has nothing to do with. Not this time, at least.

He feels like a dog in the manger. Everyone can have Peggy (to a certain extent), but he can’t have anyone himself.

Fake cobwebs and pumpkins sit outside houses on each side of the road. It’s the spookiest night of the year, yet you have no plans. No parties to attend with some stupid little boyfriend who wouldn’t know how to fuck you the way he would.

When Steve unlocks the front door, he finds his wife’s heels strewn on the floor and his daughter watching cartoons in the living room. He kisses Sarah’s head and ensures she’s eaten the entirety of her breakfast. He tried his best with ghost-shaped pancakes, though they turned out more like blobs than anything. She doesn’t mind at all.

Sarah’s a brainiac, her new hobby being those kits that teach you how to hook wires into potatoes and other vegetables. Steve applauds her creations every time she shows them off, noting the little technological genius in her that he must’ve contributed to.

That is, if he’s her biological father.

The television screen plays her choice of cartoons, with a Halloween theme for the special day. He smiles when she laughs before heading upstairs.

Peggy has the largest room with the nicest furniture. She spends little time there unless she’s getting ready to go out or recovering from a hangover.

Steve knocks on her door. Despite there being no answer, he unlocks it and lets himself in. His wife is wide awake, eye makeup smudged a bit, but she’s wearing her signature jeans with a tank top.

She turns around and smiles at the sight of him. “What do you think?” she asks, gesturing to the costume she has laid out.

It’s a vampire—that’s as much as he gathers. The little voice in his head tells him how fitting it is—Peggy has sucked the life out of him for the last seven years.

“Perfect,” Steve tells her, giving her his most forced smile, and they both know she sees right through it.

“Good. And what are you going as?” she questions, turning her back to him. He genuinely contemplates this for a second.

For the last few years, he’s always worn a cheap cape and said he’s a superhero. But he’s tired of the same thing all the time.

“I’m not sure. I’ll come up with something, though. What time are you leaving?” Steve asks. “Oh, probably around six. Don’t wait up for me. You’ll take Sarah trick-or-treating, right?” Peggy smiles, unwilling to take ‘no” for an answer.

Steve says nothing and simply leaves. He takes his phone out of his pocket—sleek screen and a photo of you and Sarah as one of his wallpapers—and pulls up his conversation with you.

Hey, hon. Do you mind coming a bit earlier? 6:30 will do.

He doesn’t even have to wait for your reply.

Sure! Do you want me to stay the night, too? I don’t mind.

Always diligent. Always a sweetheart.

Please do. The door will be unlocked.

You give his message a thumbs-up, and he sighs.

Tonight will be the night. Tonight, he’ll finally get what he wants, and no one can stop him. Not even you.

You give the door a knock three times, even though you’re more than welcome to simply enter. It feels wrong, though. Too familiar, too casual.

Halloween is one of your favourite holidays. It’s a day full of excitement and creativity, and the month leading up to it is terrific. The turning leaves and the cold weather that lets you wear your coziest sweaters. The candy is the cherry on top of the entire delicacy.

You’ve never been on for extravagant costumes due to your procrastination. Tonight, you’re an angel. You don an all-white get-up; a lace dress, sheer tights, and matching shoes. You have a borrowed halo on your head and floppy wings on your back. It’s the best you can do for now.

Steve opens the door a few moments later, and he’s wearing a black suit. His hair is gelled, and he has a toothy grin—a change from his usual scowl. You smile at the sight of him.

“Happy Halloween!” you cheer, and he laughs. “Happy Halloween, sweetheart. What are you supposed to be? The devil?” he jokes. “Hardy-har-har. I’m an angel. But what are you? A CEO?” you ask, raking your eyes up and down his body.

The older man basks in your attention, his ears burning red.

“Actually, I’m a groom. Something different from the superhero thing, you know? It was the only thing I could come up with,” he sheepishly admits, and you wave his shyness away. “I love that! I never see anyone do something simple yet unique. But no decorations?”

You glance back at his front lawn and see nothing but withered flowers and yellow leaves from the neighbour’s over-arching tree. His porch simply has a bowl of candy with a threatening “TAKE ONE (1)” sign, assumingly written by Sarah.

“Nope. But there’s always next year!” he reassures. You giggle and nod your head. Your cheeks burn from smiling so much. Do you find him amusing? Or is it forced? Steve has numerous questions running through his mind, some exciting the butterflies in the attic that is his stomach, and some boiling his blood.

“C’mon in. No jacket? You must be freezing. You’re better than that, honey,” he chides like the father he is. He locks the door behind you—chain and all. “I didn’t think it’d be this cold,” you admit, removing your shoes. Steve takes them from you and places them on the rack where Peggy’s usual ankle boots would be.

You note the absence of her items and the lack of noise from the television. You don’t pay them much mind.

“Ah, rookie mistake. If you want, you can borrow a jacket from me,” he offers, picking up a stray black feather from the floor. You set your small backpack on the bottom step and follow his lead.

“So… What’s Sarah’s costume? She kept talking about being a minion, and then a cow, so I’m not too sure,” you laugh, and Steve does the same. “Peggy wanted her to be one of those Mario characters, but you know Sarah. Tonight, she’s Albert Einstein. Including the wig, of course.”

When you enter the clean living room, you expect to see her adorable face dressed as the notorious physicist. But she’s not there—and neither are the family photos.

“Um, sir, where is she?” you question, and he gestures to one of the sofas. You take a seat and wait for his return. He comes back with two drinks and hands you one of them. “Sarah is at her grandma’s. Peggy is at one of those parties she always goes to,” Steve coolly explains.

“Oh, are we going there? Or do you want me to stay back and give candy out?” You take a sip of your drink—a cherry limeade you once raved about to him. The sparkling water fizzles on your tongue. “No, she’ll be going trick-or-treating with her cousins.”

There’s a beat. A moment. And it lasts for a while.

“Uh, so what am I doing here?” you query. “Sweetheart. I’m a bit disappointed. You probably think that’s all I want you here for, don’t you? C’mon, you’re more than a babysitter to me.”

Steve places emphasis on his last word. “I’m sorry, Mr. Rogers, but I really don’t understand what you’re implying,” you profess, downing more of your drink out of sheer nervousness. Are you being fired? Are they moving? Did you do something wrong?

“Oh, honey, c’mere,” he says, even though he comes to you. He moves from his position across from you—standing tall in his full, towering height. Steve sits down next to you and places his large, warm hand on your cold left thigh. “Don’t be scared. M’not gonna hurt you. You’re not in trouble,” he says in a low tone.

When he’s this close to you, you can see the details of his face entirely. Whenever you’ve tried to admire him from afar, it’s like he knows when you’re looking.

“You’re so sweet… So pretty. I bet you’re nice and soft, too, hm? And you’ll be a good girl for me?” he asks, and you furrow your brows. You open your mouth to say something to him, but you’re quickly shut up with a searing kiss.

Steve presses his lips against yours, and it’s better than anything he could have ever imagined. The fantasies he’s had during those late nights or showers with his fist wrapped around his cock don’t even compare.

He takes charge, pushing his tongue inside your mouth and exploring within. His strong hands scoop you into his lap, one of them holding the back of your head. You lean back as Steve’s forwardness dominates you. You’re not sure what to do, so you place your palms on his shoulders and use a bit of force to try to push him away.

The married man doesn’t budge. It’s getting hard to breathe, and you feel like he’s sucked the air out of your lungs. You sink your teeth down lightly on what you think is his tongue, and he hisses as he pulls away.

“Sir– We can’t do this. It isn’t right. I– I mean, you’re my boss, and you have a wife—and poor Sarah, she doesn’t deserve this–”

“Fuck Peggy. Do you really think she cares? I don’t love her, never have. I only love you, darling. Now, what you just di–”

“Love me? Mr. Rogers, I think you’re mistaken. Maybe it’s just because we’re alone, or you and Peggy have been distant, but you don’t love me, Sir. I won’t mention this to anyone, I swear. And I’ll find another job if you’d like,” you breathlessly explain, shaking your head.

Steve shushes you with a snarl. “You’re not leaving me.” His voice is stern, and his tone says it all—there’s no arguing. “Please,” you try to get off the older man’s lap, but he holds onto you tightly. “We’re perfect for each other, honey. Don’t you see? Sarah loves you, and you love her. And look! I’m your groom, and you’re my angelic wife,” he exclaims, pulling the halo and ripping the wings off.

You gasp at his strength and audacity. You’d try to fight him, but you know you’d end up more hurt than anything. “Please don’t make this difficult,” he demands, adding your name. The mention makes you flinch, as he rarely says it.

“Look at those eyes… All blown out. I bet you’re soaking, aren't you?” Steve asks, but you don’t reply. His blue irises seem much darker in the dim lighting. His pupils are wide, and it’s like looking at a man who’s been possessed. “You’re probably making a mess of your panties, and we’ve barely even started. Does that always happen when you’re around me? Gosh, I bet you smell so sweet.”

His words make you whimper, and he smiles. “Oh, and look at those perfect tits,” he hums, groping them. Your nipples are stiff as peaks, and the rough touch from Steve has you shuddering. “Pl– Please,” you beg as he pulls at the nubs. The pain teeters on pleasure, and you squeeze your thighs to put an end to the thrumming at your core.

“‘Please,’ what, sweetie? Hm?”

“Please, Sir,” you whisper.

The title makes him groan. “Fuck, you don’t know how long I’ve been wanting you,” Steve expresses. You don’t want to know. “Ever since we met… D’you remember that floral dress you wore? That you kept pulling up? God, I wanted to take you right there…”

You remember that day all too well. Seeing Mr. Rogers in all his glory was riveting, and the slight crush you developed lives on. Now—you’re not sure. Your brain is a mess, and you can’t think straight.

Your boss lifts you up bridal style, and he doesn’t let this go unnoticed. “See? We were meant for each other, honey. And we don’t even need a wedding.”

He sets you down on the bed in the room on the main floor. You’ve stayed here from time to time when Peggy likes to come out at two in the morning, and Steve is beyond worried for her.

Was it all a farce? You remember those times and how he never called her or insisted on picking her up.

Steve’s hands pull at your cheap dress, and he rips it down the middle. You regret your choice of not wearing a bra, but either way, it would’ve done nothing.

He cups your breasts, and you moan at the touch. He latches his mouth onto one nipple as he plays with the other. His mouth is skilled—his tongue flicking and teeth slightly grazing the sensitive skin.

Mr. Rogers’ fingers are just as talented. They pinch, pull, and twist at your other peak simultaneously. He switches eventually, and you’re a puddle beneath the imposing man.

Your back is arched slightly, and you’re practically pushing your chest into his face, and he chuckles. “So desperate. You need me so badly, don’t you?” he says, nodding his head and smiling when you mimic him for a split second. “Atta girl—so good for me.”

Steve pulls back, and you whine. He soothes you and pulls his jacket off. You can see the ripples of muscle beneath the white collared shirt. He unbuckles his belt with swiftness. You gnaw on your bottom lip despite its swollenness.

Soon, he’s back on you. Your boss hooks his fingers into the waistband of your panties, and he pulls them down your legs, admiring the strings of slick that break from the distance. He pushes the cloth into his pocket, and you clench when you think of the things he’ll do with it later on.

In your mind is a tiny voice that chides your every wrongdoing—how you haven’t fought back as much as you should. But there’s a louder one that was once lovesick over the married man before you, and it’s far more convincing.

Steve spreads your legs and curses at the sight of your sopping cunt. You involuntarily clench from the exposure. “You’ve got such a pretty pussy, baby,” he murmurs, leaning over you. One arm keeps him up, and the other bends your knees, giving him better access.

His fingers slide against your folds, collecting wetness as he caresses your lips. You let out a pleasured sigh, secretly wishing he would stop tormenting you and just get it over with. “So sensitive, too. I bet you’ll make such a mess on my cock.”

You never knew Steve could have such a filthy mouth—and God, do his words have your head spinning.

He quickly finds your swollen, throbbing clit and lightly touches it. The sensations on your little pearl are mild, but they’re enough to have you writhing beneath Steve. He draws light circles with the tips of his fingers. Your mouths brush against each other, and he teases you until you’re whispering pleas against his lips.

“Shh… It’s okay, love,” he reassures. Once he knows he has you worked up enough, Steve pushes the first digit into your pussy. The intrusion has you gasping, which turns into a whimper when he shoves another in. “Lookatcha, honey. You’re takin’ my fingers like a champ. This cunt is so tight, though. I’m really gonna have to stretch ya to fit my cock in there.”

The idea of his large cock barely fitting inside you makes your muscles involuntarily constrict against Steve’s fingers.

It takes a moment for you to adjust to the intrusion, though your walls welcome him like a familiar friend. His fingers are longer and thicker than yours, and with ease, he reaches that sweet spot most boys your age miss.

Eventually, Steve begins to fuck you on his hand. His digits slide in and out of you with ease as he picks up the pace. The skin glistens from your slick, and it’s a sight to behold. He creates a scissor motion with his two fingers every now and then, stretching you out while having you at his mercy.

It doesn’t take long for your moans to get louder while your face forms a frown of pleasure. The squelching sound of your cunt and that build-up just above your core are tell-tale signs that you’re about to come. “Oh, sir…!” you wail, and Steve picks up the pace.

“I can feel that cunt clenching on me, honey. God, you’re so beautiful this way. C’mon, make a mess on my hand. Come for me,” he rasps, rubbing his cheek against yours.

Your eyes squeeze shut when you come undone on Mr. Rogers’ hand. Your aching hole squeezes his fingers, and he makes you ride your orgasm out. Your back arches, and you let out a loud moan as pleasure shocks every nerve in your body. The lewd sounds of your cunt are noisy.

You find yourself immediately wanting more, even though you shouldn’t.

“Good girl—such a good girl for me,” Steve coos before slowly sliding his fingers out your channel. Your inner walls already miss the presence of his digits. You struggle to catch your breath, but in the midst of it all, you hear your boss pull the zipper to his pants down.

“I can’t wait to get inside of you, sweetie. I need you so badly it hurts,” he says while pressing kisses against the side of your neck. Steve climbs on top of you as he frees his aching cock from the confines of his boxers.

He grips himself by the base, his entire hand wrapped around his hardness. He gives himself a few strokes as pre-cum leaks from his slit, sliding down his bulbous head. His size is marvellous, a raging purplish-red with a thick base. Steve slaps the tip of his cock against your clit, and you flinch from the unexpected jolt of pleasure. “Fuck…” he curses.

“Are you looking, sweetie? This is such a special moment for us—I hope you remember it well,” he hums in your ear, and out of your natural obedient instinct, you lift your head to where you two are about to be connected. The sight of Steve’s cock makes you whimper. “Shit, what a good little slut.”

He drags the head of his dick through your dripping folds, and then he pushes in. The sudden stretch causes your skull to fall back against the bed. You try to close your legs, but Steve’s presence makes that impossible. He refuses to let you hide what’s his.

The older man completely sheathes himself inside your pussy. The squelching sound has you cringing in shame, but that quickly disappears when the feeling of fullness takes over. Steve’s balls touch your ass when he bottoms out, and your breathing is rapid from the sensuality of it all.

A hand wraps around your throat—though gentle, it scares you at first. Your eyes meet with Mr. Rogers’, and he looks at you with what appears to be adoration.

“You feel just like heaven,” he simply tells you. “I’m never letting you go after this—never was plannin’ on it, anyway.”

Before you can even process his words, Steve starts to fuck you. His pace is slow at first, and he hits your sweet spot with ease—a feat most boys your age are incapable of. Your moans are wanton and loud, teetering on the verge of pathetic for someone who was fighting against him at first.

“Oh, fuck,” you whimper, and your reaction makes Steve smile. “You love this, don’t you? Yeah, always knew you needed a real man to fuck this cunt.”

His thrusts are a bit quicker now, and he pulls in and out of your wet pussy roughly. The sound of skin on skin is thunderous, nearly covering up the wet noises from your stickiness. His thick cock shines from your juices. Steve ruts into you like a starved man—because he is one.

His pelvic bone hits your clit every now and then, and his swollen, heavy balls are against the curve of your ass. He’s relentless in claiming you as his, sucking, biting, and licking at the skin on your neck.

“Oh my God—Steve–” you mewl, the pleasure blooming inside you almost too much to handle.

“What’s wrong, honey? Are you gonna come again?” Steve questions with faux pity. He punctuates each word with a thrust, fat cock pushing into your tightness. “What a pathetic little slut, making such a big mess on her boss’ cock. And I’m married too. You just can’t help it, can you?” he teases, and his filthy words have you squeezing his length from the filthiness. He lets a groan out from the feeling, and he keeps the fervour going.

That elastic band inside your stomach begins to tighten, and you can feel another orgasm build up quickly. “Go ahead. Make a mess on Daddy’s dick, baby,” he urges, and as if on command, you cream around his thickness.

Your back arches off the bed, but you don’t go anywhere far with Steve’s chest keeping you pressed down. Your hardened nipples rub against the cloth of his shirt, and the added friction makes your climax all the more breathtaking. The older man pounds into your cunt vigorously.

Stars appear in your vision until you come back down. Mr. Rogers doesn’t stop fucking you, forcing you to endure the overstimulation. Even with your legs shaking, he refuses to give up. “Good girl—such a good whore for Daddy,” he praises. The tip of his cock pummels against your G-spot continuously.

Your tits bounce with each push of Steve’s cock. Sometimes, he grazes your cervix, but the mild pain dulls away when he presses chaste kisses to your face and brutalizes your g-spot. “‘S too much,” you mumble, legs involuntarily trying to close. “Nu-uh—It’s enough when I say it’s enough. Don’t worry, Daddy’s gonna fill up that pretty pussy real soon,” he says, and as if on cue, there’s a change in the way he pounds into your cunt.

His thrusts become more sloppy, but they keep the same passion and desperation that he started everything with. There’s an intensity you can’t describe because it just feels so fucking good. The hand on your neck moves and begins to caress the rest of your body. Your pulsating walls hug him, practically refusing to let go. Your skin is hot and sticky, just like his—if not more.

Wandering hands grope your body, going pliant underneath Steve. Guttural groans leave Steve’s mouth while you’re gasping endlessly. “Shit—you were made for taking this dick, sweetie. I’m gonna fill you up until you’re leaking down your thighs,” he promises, and the threat of it sounds terrific to your fucked-out mind.

“Be a good girl and soak Daddy’s cock one more time,” he orders. The blur between your previous climax and the one that takes you over now has your head spinning. You grasp the bedsheets from the overwhelming pleasure. A silent scream leaves your mouth, which Steve accompanies with a grunt followed by a string of curse words. “Fuck.”

You squeeze Steve’s length tightly, soaking him in your wetness. Electric shocks run down your spine and unto every nerve in your body. You feel like you’re floating for a split second. You’ve never come that hard—ever. It’s difficult to breathe, and Mr. Rogers is mean enough to make you take the euphoria he’s doling out.

Wetness stains the skin that surrounds where you two are filthily connected. Your ass is sticky, and some of your cream stains the trimmed hair at the base of Steve’s shaft. It’s a mess—one he intends on adding to with his semen.

His cock twitches inside your pussy, and with a final shove, he stills with his pelvis pressed against your clit. Steve’s balls clench, and he shudders as he reaches his own high. Ropes of cum spurt from the fat tip of the older man’s cock, painting your insides. The feeling makes you whimper as you’re filled to the brim with his seed.

For a few moments, Steve stays in that position, catching his breath while he recovers from his orgasm. Your eyes dance along his face, taking in the pinched yet relaxed look he dons.

Eventually, your boss resurfaces from the depths of his climax. You’re more than exhausted and have half a mind to fall asleep right then and there.

But the sound of the front door opening and closing shocks you from your stupor. Worry is written all over your features when Steve looks at you. “Aw, don’t worry, honey,” he hums, and though it may seem impossible, you can feel him get harder inside your pussy,

Whether it’s your evident fright or the thrill of getting caught, you’re not sure. Both make you dizzy.

Peggy’s notable accent slurs a call for Steve. “Think we should put on a show for her?” he jokes, grinding his cock further into your pussy.

You’re sure that no matter what you say, he won’t listen. And what will follow will be a nightmare you can’t escape.

But those thoughts ebb away when you hear your other boss curse a storm and abruptly leave, even though she hasn’t walked in on the pornographic scene that’s taking place in the guest room.

“Well, there’s always next time—if she’ll even make it,” Steve grumbles under his breath, but the words are too vague for you to dwell on them. “Think you’re up for round two, love? I wanna play with those tits while you ride my cock.”

For the nth time, your body betrays you and tells him your true desires. Either way, he still would’ve gotten what he wanted. Steve Rogers always gets what he wants.

[caraphernellie]

ephemeral.

for your information: author!abby x editor!fem!reader. professionals with a very strained relationship. abby and reader drinking a little but completely coherent + sober still. haters-to-lovers, semi-public, outdoor sex. bratty!reader. fingering (r!receiving). steamy make out session. clichés ahead. pet names used: baby, good girl, various insults tbh. 2.8K WC.

𝐃𝐄𝐀𝐑 𝐑𝐄𝐀𝐃𝐄𝐑, had this idea for like, a whole year now. oops. just love autumnal/dark academia type shit and abby is my favourite bookworm. abby picture by @/tpicsl on pinterest. MASTERLIST.

Creativity is fickle. Abby knows it better than anyone.

Her mind is her greatest asset. It is a hidden strength; everybody thinks they have her figured out just by glancing at her. The woman is built of brawn and steadily-sculpted muscle, but it is merely a peek into her real power.

Abby's appearance is a reflection of dedication, an application of self-discipline trained over many moons.

Her brain is her might. Her will to excel. It is a library of all the things she has loved, words she has read, stories she has heard.

And the result is an author of applaudable talent. Yet, her reputation precedes her—she is not easy to work with.

Abby has published four books so far in her career, but she's been through twice the amount of editors in that time. Nothing could ever stunt her rise to fame, no matter how many claims were made against the woman's cocky, self-gratified nature. Abby Anderson is a household name.

But as her most long-standing editor, you must agree with the rumours. Working for Abby is a living nightmare.

Creativity is fickle. Abby refuses to let anybody impede on her artistry. If they do not see her vision, she will throw a fit. Writing is her gift, and god forbid someone attempts to critique it. She rejects all common writing advice—should anyone attempt to tell her to 'kill her darlings', Abby will send back a heated, passive aggressive email.

You let her have her freedom. That is the difference between you and other editors. Perhaps they don't see the vision like you do, and absolutely not like Abby does. You will remove what is only necessary, and maybe there are small disagreements every so often, but you have proven yourself to have the wit that matches Abby's perplexity.

You do not leech on her—sucking the life and rareness out of her words, only to brag and drag her name through the mud. Even Abby will admit that you are the most pleasant editor to work with.

But god, she almost burnt you out.

Impossible deadlines, communicating at only the most iniquitous hours. Whether it was a high-priority email at midnight or two-thousand words to be read and fixed by the end of the day, she was a prick. On purpose.

And why? Well, even though your furious emails would raise her hackles, she began to realise she actually enjoyed reading them. You've got quite the attitude. It certainly tickles her dry sense of humour, after all. Everything you say is professional, so as to not raise alarm, but it's laced with just enough venom to sting.

Her personal favourite email, which she immediately starred, is the one in which you were complaining about her constantly quoting you in her own book.

'Miss Anderson, I do not find you as funny as you think you are. I would like to be taken seriously when I voice my concerns about your ill-treatment of my service, as flattering as it may be that I have inspired your work. 'Please see attached the edited draft as requested.  'P.S. I do believe you ought to get some sleep. Sending a draft at 03:30 is not acceptable.'

It's just not fiery enough to halt her efforts.

Somehow, you made it out alive. Pulled yourself out of quicksand with that heavy load on your back. You have lived long enough to be present tonight.

Today marks the highly anticipated release of Abby Anderson's fifth release, her newest standalone title following her critically acclaimed series. Many reviews seem to say she just keeps getting better, while others written in unkempt fury detest her for writing in a way that feels almost pretentious nowadays.

Abby's clearly had a day full of bustling conversation, hundreds of well wishes. She signed so many copies of her book that her wrist aches of overuse. She made it through, thank goodness, and the hour of relaxation has finally arrived.

The release party.

Who doesn't love a party? A warm celebration filled with prideful chit-chat, her family and friends, and competitors masking their envy with tight-lipped smiles and side-eyes.

All that and a splash of champagne to take the edge off.

Your heels crunch flaxen leaves in your path to the door, streams of fading sunlight painting the yacht club in warm golds and gingers. It's a remotely calm evening save for the seaside breeze. The trees whistle and you can hear the faint sound of pastoral waves clashing with the cliffside.

Your inner-voice begs for a few moments more stood outside the party. You could give yourself some grace, a fleeting moment to prepare for the questioning and disrespect you'll receive.

You think back to a charity event Abby hosted once. You met a man who spoke with blatant indiscretion about Abby's writing, and admittedly your ego was bruised as much as Abby's would have been. He had watched you argue your point, and when you finished, the man parted his lips to ask, 'who are you?'

Her fucking editor, that's who. Only one who'll put up with her.

It would help if Abby would stop acting like she doesn't know you.

You don't expect flowers, nor praise. She wrote those books by herself. But a tree cannot grow without proper care. If her words were sowing the seeds, you were watering them.

If only Abby could take the stick from her ass and so kindly acknowledge the sweat and tears you put into dealing with her.

Light disappears into the horizon and the moon has risen. These cocktail parties were never your style. It isn't a wild bender, nor is it a classy and quiet event. It's just somewhere between that.

Networking.

It's tedious, dreadful. If you don't catch their attention within the first seconds of the conversation, you won't make that connection. First impressions are everything, and unfortunately, you struggle to be as charming as the others in this room.

"Well, well, well. Look who showed up."

Her eyes have wandered to you for the past two hours, not as discreet as she thought she was being. It seems Abby has finally found the time to pull away from big-wig publishers and authors to finally seek you out.

"I almost thought you were gonna pull the same shit as last time 'n hide all night."

"You wish." Your voice is dry and quick, always straight to the point. "Makes no difference if I stay in the shadows or hang around the others. You'll ignore me anyway."

"No," Abby murmurs, a scrunched up scowl on her face now. It's far from hateful, and directed more towards herself than you. "I'm talking to you now, aren't I?"

"Mhm."

"You know what I just.. love?" Abby asks, head tilted towards you. You are a thief to Abby's attention no matter where or when, but regret to realise that. "You are just as hard to deal with in person as you are over email. It's really authentic."

"Ah." You give a curt nod, taking a short sip of wine, and notice the way her eyes track the movement. They linger over your lips, struggling to tear away. "I am glad you think so. I like to keep it real."

She scoffs, short and breathy. "Yeah. It's real lovely."

Abby enjoys the way you match her energy. She enjoys it too much.

"So, did you come here to say anything worthwhile, or are you just polite enough to greet all your guests?"

Her face doesn't change—her smile remains intact, but it's the twitch of her eye that forces a soft chuckle past your lips.

"Yeah, actually. You know, I was getting there." Abby's indignant reply is masked with a pleasant tone, one that irks you. She doesn't know how to act any way but sarcastically with you. She could say the smallest thing, but it gets on your nerves. You're not the most proud of how reactive you are to Abby's behaviour. "You know, some sappy shit about how helpful you are. But I might keep it to myself now."

"Makes no difference to me," you say with a shrug of your shoulders. Actually, it would be nice to hear what she has to say. "You couldn't be genuine with me if you tried."

"You know what? Let's go." Abby takes and sets your glass down on a nearby table for you, hand wrapping firm around your wrist. "I have some things to say to you that I'd rather others don't hear."

"Can't wait," you mutter, anticipating what, from past experience, can only be referred to as a sour exchange of words.

Abby drops your hand to get the door with the most cocky grin you've seen on her face in a long time. "Ladies first."

The French doors lead to a round balcony that overlooks the water. As you step outside you feel a wave of relaxation overcome you. The ocean is calm, the breeze from earlier has filtered away into a still, but cold, night. The only sounds you can hear are muffled chatter and music from inside.

"Alright." You clasp your hands together and bat your lashes. "What was it you had to say? Don't forget to raise your voice this time."

"Y'know, I actually wasn't planning on yelling at you," Abby says in a gritty voice, stepping closer. "But if you keep trying to get smart with me, I may reconsider."

"Oh, of course. I hope you do. It's a pleasant sound."

"I— Stop talking."

Without you having realised, she's backed you into a corner. Your hands grasp the stone fence of the balcony tightly, looking away until she tugs your jaw closer.

"I wanted to actually say something nice. You know, a sorry for being a cunt. A thank you for putting up with me. I wouldn't have half the success I have if it weren't for you."

"Oh."

It's simply unexpected. It isn't an out-of-this-world idea for Abby to be sincere, of course not. But her confidence is often mistaken for pure arrogance. You just didn't think she could tone down her ego enough for something like this. Not at a release party, at least—this whole shebang is meant to be celebrating her.

"I didn't know how to show you I actually appreciate your work," Abby continues, "I thought about flowers... a letter... you know, for an author, it was ridiculously hard to put some words down. And I wanted to avoid cliché. So I wanted to personally talk to you about it."

"You know, this is actually leaning further into cliché territory than a letter?" You muse, only with the intention of making this slightly less awkward.

Considering Abby is usually the one to let her eyes wander, right now, you are the one who can't pull their eyes away. Her shirt fits her far too perfectly for your liking. Her eyes, electric blue and staring sharply enough to cut you—they're perfect. And you hate it.

"Oh yeah?" Abby huffs, her palm flat on the fence behind you. She's caged you in. "Why's that?"

"Because you look like you're about to kiss me."

She falters for a moment, sheer surprise on her face. Oh, come on. She can't be that clueless to her own desires, can she?

"You wish."

"Well if you don't kiss me, I'm going to kiss you."

"What? Because I said one kind thing to you? Are you really that easy?" Abby lets out a quiet laugh in disbelief, perhaps a bit of shock too—you've thrown her off balance.

"You are the one who's not-so-subtly stared at my lips all night," you point out. "So I think you need to find your own answer to your question."

Jesus, you make Abby actually think sometimes. Interacting with you is different—her wit is matched for once, you indulge in the same dry sarcasm, you're actually fucking intelligent.

But what irritates her is the way you have such a great read on her.

"What I need is for you to shut up and let me be nice to you for once."

"God, you write your own clichés so much you'd think you would have seen this coming." You meet her eyes with that of a mischievous look in your own, lips curled into a satisfied grin. "Make me."

Oh, for fuck's sake.

Screw it.

Her lips are on yours. Her hands settle over your hips. It's warm—incendiary, even. The autumn chill takes a backseat as she kisses you once, twice, and once more.

She stays close enough for your breaths to mingle, lips a hair's breadth away from each other now.

"That wasn't so hard, was it?" You murmur. Abby scoffs softly.

"I hate you."

"I don't think that's right."

"No?"

"You're welcome to walk away right now, if you hate me so much."

There is not a chance that's going to happen. Even below the faint blue moonlight, you can see how rosy her cheeks have turned. Not a chance. She's staying right here.

"I thought a kiss was supposed to make you shut up," Abby grumbles.

"Oh, ha, sorry." You aren't sorry in the slightest. That coy smile is going to be the death of her. Who knew little old you would have the upper hand right now? "You can try again, if you'd like."

"Right."

It's as desperate and fiery as before, yet not as ephemeral. She's captured your words with her lips, her hands unceasingly moving along your figure. She touches and grabs everywhere that she can reach. You cup the back of her head and pull her closer as you sit on the balcony fence.

That stresses her out the slightest bit. It's a precarious position, on a high place, no less. But she simply takes it as an opportunity to splay her palm over your ass, 'keeping you from falling off.'

"Here's the deal." Abby attempts to command you, but wandering lips are staining her throat in lipstick and, plain and simply, she whimpers her words. "You're gonna watch that door and tell me if someone's comin'."

"Mhm."

Your mouth seeks her freckled collarbone, so tauntingly visible beneath her shirt. She always leaves the first few buttons undone. You've controlled yourself so well all this time, you deserve to taste the salt of her skin there.

And Abby's fumbling with the button of your pants. They fit you so well. They hug your body just right, flaring at the ankles. They hug her attention, too.

"Coast is clear?" Abby whispers. Her hand is painfully close to where she wants to be, buried into your cunt, but she just can't without the confirmation that you won't be caught in your little escapade.

You peek over Abby's shoulder. The party is still bustling inside, not a soul seeming concerned with the balcony.

"It's clear."

"Thank god."

Abby's hand slides beneath your panties finally. She's amused with the way you spread your thighs wider to accommodate her, your legs wrapping around her waist now.

"That's a good girl," she mumbles, fingers gathering some of your wetness. She nearly shudders at how fucking hot all of this is. You, your stuttered breath, and the thrill of fucking you somewhere so public. "Shh-shh."

Two fingers push past your folds and your hands grip her broadened shoulders. It's a stretch, those thick fingers stuffed pretty inside you, but the feeling is more than welcome.

"Fuck, Abs."

"I know, just be quiet."

Her fingers begin to move, slow at first as she tests the waters, and gradually it reaches a faster pace. Your sounds are even better than she could have anticipated they'd be. Gentle, short moans. So, so cute, and all for her ears' pleasure only.

"Open those eyes, baby. You need to keep watch."

You do your best. You force your eyes open and stare at the blurry door behind Abby.

Her digits reach in deep, they stretch you wide, and her thumb laves over your clit simultaneously. She feels the tension build in your body. Your fingers bruise her shoulders, your legs tremble, and you muffle your rising volume by hiding in the crook of her neck.

"C'mon, baby," Abby encourages, her free hand groping and squeezing your butt. "Gonna cum for me?"

She has finally conquered your attitude. Left you unable to do anything but moan, and fuck, your legs feel like jelly now. She revels in your jittering, in the clenching of your hole around her fingers.

"Good girl." The praise, sweetened further by that smooth voice, leaves you reeling. And like the prick she is, she just has to use your own words back at you. "Wasn't that hard to shut up, was it? You did so good for me."

You hum tiredly in response, weak fingers fastening your trousers again. "I hate you."

"Hate me enough to come home with me?"

Ha.

"Of course."

[kairoot]

✶ 𝓗𝑎𝑟𝑣𝑒𝑠𝑡𝑖𝑛𝑔 𝐻𝑒𝑎𝑟𝑡𝑠 ．．박종성

⤷ 𝑖n which you enjoy the sunrise on your small farm with your two favorite people.

𝒑𝐚𝐢𝐫𝐢𝐧𝐠 : husband!jay x 𝑝𝗋𝖾𝗀𝗇𝖺𝗇𝗍！𝑓．𝗋𝖾𝖺𝖽𝖾𝗋 𝗴𝗲𝗻𝗿𝗲 : fluff 𝗿𝗲𝗾𝘂𝗲𝘀𝘁𝗲𝗱 : no 𝘄𝗮𝗿𝗻𝗶𝗻𝗴𝘀 : pet names, kisses, lmk if i missed anything !

( 𝒎𝒊𝒍𝒂𝒏’𝘀 𝗻𝗼𝘁𝗲𝘀 ) : inspired by @allurecile bc i loved their jake fic so much and this thought has been in my head for forever.. jay pls become a farmer. & pls leave reblogs and feedback, they are much appreciated !! ♡︎

birds chirped and the first light of dawn crept over the horizon, casting a gentle golden glow across the fields. dew-kissed blades of grass shimmered in the early morning light, while the soft rustle of leaves in the breeze added to the tranquil symphony.

the farm slowly awakened, with the silhouette of a barn emerging from the shadows and the distant silhouette of livestock beginning to stir, signaling the start of a new day.

you step out into the wide yard, yawning and stretching your arms out. you closed your eyes as the soft morning breeze swiped your cheek.

looking out over the large acres of your home, you spotted your husband crouched down near your crops. he wore his favorite flannel shirt, the sleeves rolled up as he cared for the growing vegetables in your garden. you smiled softly, admiring how hard he worked.

he looked up from what he was doing, spotting you on your home’s porch. his face broke into a wide smile, eyes lighting up warmth and affection. he set down his tools and took off his gloves as he stood up to walk over to you.

“good morning,” jay said, his voice gentle and filled with love.

“good morning,” you replied, feeling a surge of happiness at the sight of him.

he reached out and places a hand on your belly, where your baby is growing steadily each day. you were about seven months pregnant, and both you and the baby were the healthiest you had been, thanks to jay.

the gesture is tender, filled with a quiet joy that you both share. you cover his hand with yours, feeling the connection between the three of you.

"good," you assure him. "just a little sleepy."

he chuckles softly. "i was trying not to wake you."

"you didn't," you say, shaking your head. "i just wanted to come out and join you."

jay smiled once more, placing a kiss on your forehead and then your lips. he wraps his arm around your shoulders, pulling you close.

together, you walk through the garden, taking in the beauty of the morning. the sun is rising higher now, casting long shadows and illuminating the dewdrops on the leaves and grass. the air is filled with the earthy scent of soil and the sweet fragrance of blooming flowers.

as you stroll through the rows of vegetables and herbs, you talk about your plans for the day, the excitement of preparing for the baby's arrival, and the simple joys of life on the farm. jay listens intently, his hand never leaving yours, his presence a constant source of comfort and strength.

“she’s gonna love the flowers,” you smiled, squeezing his hand.

“and the animals,” he added, looking over at the barn. “they’ll love her.”

“daisy already does,” you giggled, remembering how one of your mares wouldn’t stop rubbing her nose against your belly when it started to grow.

jay nodded in agreement, smiling at the memory.

“yeah, but i’m not so sure about cocoa.” he said, reminding you of the younger horse who hadn’t been to fond of you ever since you became pregnant.

you sighed, “i don’t know why he’s been acting that way..”

jay rubbed your back comfortingly, “you know how much he loves you. he doesn’t want the attention on anyone else but him when it comes to you.”

you nodded, continuing your stroll with him.

“can we go see them?”

jay nodded, a thoughtful smile on his face. “of course, honey.”

you followed him toward the barn, the path lined with blooming wildflowers and the morning sun casting a warm glow over everything. as you approached the barn, the familiar sounds of the horses’ gentle nickers and the clatter of hooves greeted you.

jay opened the barn door, and you stepped inside, where the scent of hay and horses was comforting. daisy was the first to notice you, and she trotted over with a friendly whinny, her ears pricked up in greeting. you reached out to pet her, feeling her soft nose against your hand.

cocoa, on the other hand, was in the far corner, watching you with curious but cautious eyes. jay noticed this and gave you a reassuring glance before carefully approaching the younger horse.

“hey, cocoa,” jay said softly, extending a hand. “it’s okay. we’re just here to visit.”

you watched as jay gently bridled cocoa, his calm and steady presence seeming to ease the horse’s nerves. soon, cocoa’s stance relaxed, and he allowed you to give him a gentle pat.

as you were enjoying the interaction, you felt a familiar fluttering sensation in your belly—your baby was moving. you chuckled softly and placed a hand on your belly. jay looked over and smiled, sensing the moment of connection between you and the baby.

just then, daisy, who had been happily munching on some hay, suddenly jumped like she’d been zapped by a static shock. she let out a comical squeal and took a few surprised hops backward, her mane flying wildly.

“whoa!” you exclaimed, trying to stifle a laugh. “i think the baby gave her a good kick!”

jay looked over, trying to hold back his laughter as daisy continued to prance around with exaggerated steps, clearly puzzled by the sudden sensation. “looks like she’s not used to the baby’s morning gymnastics..”

you gently approached daisy, who was now eyeing you with a mix of curiosity and wariness. “hey, easy,” you cooed, patting her gently. “it’s just the baby saying hello.”

jay knelt beside daisy, trying to calm her with soothing words while trying to suppress his chuckles. “there’s no need to dance, daisy. it’s just our little one showing off.”

the mare seemed to slowly realize that there was no real threat and cautiously approached you again, her ears still flicking back and forth.

“i guess the baby’s kicks are a little more dramatic than we thought,” you said with a grin, reaching out to give daisy another reassuring pat.

“definitely,” jay agreed, still laughing softly. “she’ll get used to the routines soon enough.”

with daisy settling down and the morning sun climbing higher, you and jay spent a few more moments enjoying the peaceful barn. the day ahead seemed even brighter, filled with the promise of more light-hearted moments and shared laughter as you prepared for the new adventures with your growing family.

✿

TAGLIST: @haechansbbg @contyynishimura @sasfransisco @kgneptun @jungwonderz @enha-stars @dioll @jakesangel @cupidscourt @violetwitchmcu @haohaoshoe @randomgirl02228 @wonsdoll @powerpuffstuts @flwrstqr @elysianiki — send an ask to join.

[meliciousmel13]

➛ K I L L A

paring: killer!bsf!billie x reader

warnings: smut, mentions of blood (duh), kiddnaping, cheating, mesionary, doggy, billie calls r names (slut, like a few times), mean billie, mentions of alchool, kind of angst(?), strap-on sex, fingering, r has a bf, smut written by a minor. i think that's it, please comment if you find any more! ty

wc: 4,413

SYNOPSIS: billie kills, billie heals.

taglist: @chrissv4mp, @billiesguitar, @ilovebillieeilish2000, @d14n4ol, @raspberrymacaroon if your not a part of this list but want to be comment under my tag list post, which is on my masterlist.

an: so sorry this took so long, i had exams and was also busy irl with things, after finishing i feel so fucking tired and literally everything discusts me idk what tf is wrong with me.

he was sweet at first. you swore it. he was the type to give you flowers everyday. and used to send you good morning and goodnight texts everyday. until he didn’t. you don’t know when you detected that change in him. you don’t know if he just decided to be cruel one day.

he doesn’t even hit you. is what he says. it’s true. he doesn’t. but what he does do, is manipulate and completely destroy your ego with just words.

like when he pointed out that it looked like you were gaining wight. he didn’t even have to tell you. you were like his trained dog. his trophy wife—girlfriend. like you had no use beyond your looks.

he’d always let his “friends” touch you, always try to impress them with you. point out that you were his pretty, submissive, pet girlfriend. most of them were ugly too.

was what billie says. she said that you should leave the asshole or maybe break into his house kill him in his sleep. she suggested doing it, but you always laughed it off. saying he treats you completely fine.

she always came over at your house when she knew he was there. intruding on your weekly dates and sitting on your couch like it was hers. he’d always glare at her. and you understood she could be a little infuriating sometimes and a little possessive but if henry wanted you, then he’d have to deal with your best friend too.

you met billie in 3rd grade. when you were small and new to the huge school. she approached you, and asked you to play with her in recces. you had so much in common. she loved to run, and you loved to run…

you were good together. you balanced each other out.

but she scares you sometimes—considering she has a gun, she’d always pretend to be dead. but you were immune to her little pranks now. she did them too often. you were too used to them.

you went to the bar just to get a drink or two. to get a break from your annoying boyfriend and equally annoying best friend, you loved her. really, you did. but she tires you out.

until you saw an incredibly hot boy walk toward you.

“hey,” he said, with a pretty smile, he was beautiful, you knew boys weren’t supposed to be beautiful, but he was.

“hi,” you said back, slightly looking up at him, tall too.

“think i can buy you a drink?”

you bit your lip, didn’t even think about henry, didn’t even think about your boyfriend.

you nodded, “i’m quinn, and you are..?” he asked, waiting for you to say your name.

“y/n.” you answered.

he was sweet and polite—talked with you a little to see if you were interested, not the intrusive, even-if-you-say-no-i-still-wanna-annoy-you type. told you he could drive you home, even asked for your number

you listened. found yourself in his jacked up car. didn’t even question why it smelled so awful in there (billie’s pranks made you not even question it). or why he had a shady duffle bag in his back seat.

“you want some water?” he asked you, driving away from the bar, and to the main road.

“yeah,” you nodded, taking a few sips and recapped it, placing it in the cup holder in the dashboard, “thank you.” you mumbled.

“you’re welcome.”

you don’t know exactly when you blacked out. it happened all at once almost. his hands on your body tying you to a wooden chair. when you woke up you were in a big warehouse. drowsy, quinn. on your phone, scrolling.

“what?” you say, looking up, and looking around. trying to find out why you were tied to a chair. when your gaze fell on him.

“your awake.” he smiled, “i think i used too much powder.” what the fuck?“you slept for too long.”

how. how the hell. did you get kidnapped. it was infuriating. all you wanted was to relax and have a drink. but you get into even more annoying bullshit.

he stayed on your phone for at least 30 minutes, or at least that’s how much it felt like. quinn groaned, massaging his temples and looking up at you.

“you got a charger?” he said, and you shake your head. which made him sigh even louder.

it took a while but he found a charger in his duffle bag. found a plug and sat down on the dirty floors continuing to scroll through your phone. also a creep. why was everyone you were remotely attracted to either 34 years old or a complete weirdo?

you heard the warehouse door creek, and see a dark figure creep inside. wearing all black clothes and—they were walking towards you.

they were in front of you now, looking up, you say a black mask and sunglasses with the hood of the hoodie covering almost everything. you wondered how he(?) could see.

you let out a small “mhph” and the figure tilted it’s head, going behind you and waiting for quinn to notice. he didn’t. so he hit the corner of the wooden chair, emitting a loud “THUMP” through out the large warehouse.

quinn finally looked behind him. “hey— uh, are you..?” he stood up, probably thinking the figure was also a killer? kidnapper? whatever. maybe he was his sidekick or something. you didn’t know. all you knew was that the person behind you had a knife. and it was currently on your neck.

“hey! whoaa, calm down dude. you don’t need to do that. we’re friends right?” for a kidnapper, he was pathetic. really fucking pathetic.

you couldn’t see behind you, but considering quinn’s smile, it was good. “yeah! yeah.. your nodding so we’re friends. we’re friends.” he repeated. seeing the man? woman? person? you didn’t know, walk towards him, with the knife hanging off his right hand.

you never would’ve seen it coming. all you saw was blood splattering across the walls and dripping onto the floors. you wanted to scream. but you closed your eyes instead. the scene of the knife slitting quinn’s throat. how he tried dropped to the floor and coughed blood.

the scene kept repeating in your brain and you saw it when you closed your eyes. you finally open your eyes. and saw the figure walking towards you, dropping the bloody knife to the floor and bending to your eye level.

it was sort of intimate. how his bloody gloved hands removed your gag. you breathed through your mouth for a while. swallowing and licking your dry lips. “thank you.” you mumble-whisper, he was untying you now and you didn’t know whether to be scared of him, or thankful that he just killed your kidnapper.

he untied you, took your hand and walked towards the seemingly dead body of quinn. there was a body of blood around him, he bent down and took the car keys from quinn’s dead body.

you felt safe. it was scary because you felt safe. a killer was holding your hand and leading you to a car and you felt safe.

he opened the door to quinn’s car. and you realized that he hasn’t spoken a word ever since he walked into the doors of that warehouse.

you didn’t know what to say. all you wanted to do was go home. or go to billie. anywhere that’s not here.

his driving was that to billie’s. you didn’t notice, maybe you did, your was brain too messy to think logically. of why you were in a killer’s car, and why you felt safe.

you arrived at the nearest building. a gas station. just staring at the gas station. did he expect you to get off? you couldn’t. your knees were too weak. so you just stared at him. and he stared at you. just holding the wheel and looking out his side of the window, waiting for you to leave. like he’d done his part or something.

“what?” you said dryly, “i’ll go— just gimme a little.” you sigh, and lay back on the seat. you could hear him sigh too. he bucked his hips and slid half way down the seat. just like billie did.

you both breathed for a while. until you gained the courage to leave. he drove off the second you got out. you walked to the gas station. there were 2 other cars behind you and you had blood on your cheeks.

the bell ringed at your entrance. and the part-timer didn’t spare a glance at you. you felt small. you kind of wanted to be small, you wanted to be like, six or something.

“um—” you wanted to go home. all you could think of was home, home, home and billie.

“what.” she said, still not looking up from her phone. you wanted her to see you. thinking your appearance would explain your situation without you having to move your mouth.

she sighed, and looked up. closing her phone and looking. her eyes skimmed past your skirt and hoodie and stared at your face.

she helped. gave you her phone so you could call someone to pick you up and you called billie. you knew if you called your henry he’d take two hours to get here. she helped clean up your bloody face and you finally talked.

“i ran away.” you explained, and kathryn listened intently, “i— i um—” you stutter, and she rubbed your arms reassuringly, you were struggling to find a good excuse, you couldn’t. so you told her the half-truth.

billie came to pick you up in record time, it took her 25 minutes. which was fast because the ride to here would take at least 33 minutes. probably sped up.

billie was concerned when she came, she hugged you tightly when you got out the station, mumbling “thank fuck your safe.” and “i don’t know what i’d do without you.” it was the first time you’ve seen her so scared. she wasn’t the type to panic, if she did she would hide it.

you were still shook. your back was stiff and your usual laid back position in her car turned all polite with your hands on your lap and your head towards the window. whenever billie asked something you’d reply dryly, you felt bad but what did she expect?

at first she wanted to take you home. to your own house that you own. but you couldn’t stay alone after that. it was too traumatizing. so she drove you to her house.

when you entered your nose was filled with billie. her musky cologne and her.

she took you to her room, and it was a mess. you didn’t care though, collapsed onto her queen sized bed. and tried to not pay attention to the smell, it reminded you of his car. the water, the bag. everything reminded you of him.

“do you wanna change?” she asked, and you nodded. looking around her room like it was the first time you’ve seen it.

she was holding the clothes now, expecting you to get up and wear them. you didn’t. just stared up at her.

“come on,” she mumbled, taking your arm and helping you get up. you didn’t know what happened, maybe your brain finally processed the entire situation. maybe you expecting felt safe enough to just cry. you did, you felt tears welling up in your eyes when billie tried taking your shirt off, you cried in her arms and she held you.

you let out small whimpers and hiccups of her name and while trying to calm you down she put your head on her shoulder, turning your head you saw a pile of black clothes in the corner, probably thrown in a hurry. ignoring it, you dig your head in her neck and breathe her in. her scent calmed you down.

its been 3 minutes now and billie has been rubbing you back and kissing your shoulders the whole time.

all you wanted to do was curl up in her lap and not think. you just wanted to not think for once. maybe she could run her hands through your hair while doing it. you didn’t have to ask. she took you to lay your head on her lap. and your heart ached with something you’ve never felt before, something indescribable and immensely painful. you curled up, half in her lap, half in your own, in desperate need of comfort from someone other than him yourself. for a moment, her gentle touch helped you forget.

it was peaceful. it was so damn peaceful and you wanted to cry because you’ve never felt so safe before. your knees hurt. and the way your legs were positioned on her lap actually hurt. but you couldn’t get away. you couldn’t think—you couldn’t do anything. it was like you were frozen.

but you liked it. you liked not thinking and not doing anything—it felt good. like for once you didn’t have to do anything. billie ran her hands through your hair and slowly undressed you with her eyes. she rubbed your hips and kissed your arms. it felt good and you wanted more.

“can i take this off?” she asked.

“yes.” you replied, turning around slightly to see her pulling your hoodie above your arms and off. she laid it down next to her and she gazed upon you like you were the moon and stars and her savior. you felt needed. in that moment you felt like someone wanted you, beyond just as friends or girlfriends or boyfriends.

billie finally touched you. she touched your belly first. rubbing your sides and looked at you. you felt kind of shy? her eyes made you shy. you wanted to look away. but you couldn’t. gasping, once her roaming hands touched your breasts.

“fuck.” she mumbled, and you didn’t even think of what you were doing. just focused on how good it felt, to have her on top of you—touching you. it was the sort of thing you dream of and never expect it to actually happen. but it did. it was happening right now.

“billie.” you whine-gasp as her hand slips under your skirt and lifting it up. it was a pornographic scean really. literally the things you’d see in porn. this was different though—heavenly.

the skirt was laying above your hips, revealing your pink underwear, and billie looked stuck in a haze. she sighed. it wasn’t an annoyed sigh or anything, she was in awe. you could see it all over her face—you could see what she was thinking.

one hand was playing with your nipples, tweaking and pinching. the other was just rubbing up and down your thigh. she spread your legs and your head was near the edge of the bed.

billie stopped the movements on your nipples and fully focused on your underwear, pulling them to the side and biting her lip, “you’re fuckin’ dripping f’me.” she breathed out, running her thumb up your pussy and collecting your arousal, “all this for me? hm?” you were flushed, if the room wasn’t already hot she was making it hot.

“billie.” you whined, and she tilted her head, “touch—”

“touch you?” she interrupted, “you want me to touch you? huh? my slut wants me to touch her,” she chuckled bending down your your legs at the side of her hips, she kissed and nipped at your neck, “c’mon, tell me how i should touch you.” she pulled away and grinned as you bit your lip, looking away and gripping her messy sheets.

“if you can’t say anything then how do i know where to touch you? so fuckin’ whiny.” she groaned, gripped your underwear with her whole fist and dragged her middle finger through your folds, slipping it half and inch in and pulled away before you could beg for more.

“billie.” you whined, bucking your hips and looking up at her with the most pitiful expression, pouty lips and eyebrows furrowed.

“billie,” she mimicked your whine, “can’t wait ny’ longer please js’ fuck me already.” she laughed, imitating you. she was so mean. by now you were ruining her bed sheets, your thighs were stained and her dark jeans were a mess, because of you.

she was sitting with her knees bent under your thighs, your legs were laid by her hips and your pussy had a perfect angle to grind on her stomach, you didn’t, she gave you a perfect opportunity to get the pleasure you wanted but you didn’t. you had this burning desire to be good for her. you just wanted to be good for her.

her hand was still gripping you underwear and you were wondering what she was thinking about, “billie?” you called out her name, looking up at her innocently like you weren’t spread out beneath her.

“yeah?

“need you.” you breathed out, and that seemed to wake her up. she got up from the bed and walked towards her dresser, “where are you going?” she didn’t answer. only digging through her dresser, she pulled out a box and took something from it, you just sighed and laid your head back on the bed.

“c’mere.” she said, taking your hips to her hands and dragging you to lay back on her pillows, taking one and putting it under your back, you smiled, for no reason at all, “what?” she asked.

“what, what?

“why are you smiling?” she kissed your neck, it was sweet, how she cared about you.

“nothing.” you shook your head, and looked down to find something poking your entrance, “billie.” you looked back up.

“what?” she smirked.

“it won’t fit.” you gripped the sheets.

“i’ll make it fit.” she said, and dragged the silicone across your pussy, entering her middle finger to get you ready for her. you moaned, it was embarrassing almost. she didn’t even do anything yet, “my pretty girl.” she breathed out, adding another finger and pumping into you slowly—she started to kiss your neck, and mumble filth into your ear.

“ffuck— billie!” you moaned—loudly, right in her ear. you didn’t mean to. really, you didn’t. but she added another digit in you, your brain was already a mess.

she pulled away from your neck, groaning. looking frustrated. but not at you, “you did that on purpose didn’t you” she asked and you looked up at her, before you could reply she dragged your thighs closer to her and pumped her fingers faster.

“billie— can’t—”

“can’t what? hm? slut.”

“m’ gonna cum—” you whined, feeling her fingers brush your g-spot. your swore you heard her mumble something but it was too quiet for you to hear. all you could think of was billie billie billie. it felt so good. your mind was fuzzy and you were seeing stars.

rolling your eyes back you could feel her gaze on you. you didn’t even think, just gripped her wrist and whined, “want me to stop?” she smirked.

“no! no, don’t stop. please please— billie.”

“you can’t cum until i say so angel.” she said, cruel. you whimpered as she took her fingers out of you, taking the silicone cock and angling it to your pussy, you bit your lip, feeling her rub circles on clit and rubbing her cock up and down on your pussy.

“hurry up.” you said.

“bossy.” she mumbled, didn’t even say anything back, just laid your head back on the bed and felt the tip go into you, instead of gripping the sheets you grip her biceps, “oh.” you gasp, and billie slowed down, so you could get used to the feeling to of the strap.

“ready?” she asked, and you nodded, she filled you up and you could feel the ridges of the strap against your walls, it was almost too big, you were scared at first but she took your hand and looked down at you with an almost sweet expression, you knew what she was thinking about though.

“who said it wouldn’t fit?” she said, and you looked up at her with your mouth agape, feeling her rub up and down your thighs while waiting for you to adjust. at least she was waiting. she was better than him.

you imagined your boyfriend walking into her room, seeing billie fucking you with her strap, you imagined his angry face, how you’d whimper moan into her ear, while staring at him. you wanted him to see.

billie was moving her hips and you gripped her biceps, it hurt, almost. you felt bad for her neighbors. but that was the least of your worries.

“wish you could see yourself.” billie mumbled, and pulled out, before you could even protest she turned you around, taking your hips and lifting them up.

oh, you felt filthy. she was angling the strap to your entrance and you laid your head on the pillow, turning so you could see her. you hated that you couldn’t see her.

“billie—” before you could even whine you felt her thrust into you harshly, “oh— fuck.” you moan.

“yeah? what do you wanna say angel? can’t say—” she gripped your hips and slammed into you roughly, “can’t say a thing, hm baby?” mean. she was so mean.

“wanna’ see you.” you whine, digging your head into the pillow, billie started to kiss up your back, you didn’t even have to see her you could feel the smirk on her face. every time she drives into you, your juices squelch, drenching both of you in a mix of sweat and slick.

“wanna’ see you.” she mocked, looking down, seeing a white substance cover the end of her strap, “fuck—” billie hissed, your moans and whimpers were driving her insane. your walls cling to her, squeezing her tighter with every thrust. her pace became erratic, desperate, hips snapping harder and faster.

“so fuckin’ tight,” she sighed, letting go of your hips and gripped the pillow under your stomach, “nd’ perfect.” she plowing into you and you were so close. you could feel it, brewing in your lower stomach, you didn’t want to tell billie, scared if you did she’d take it all away and make you beg to come.

“billie— can’t hold it.” you whine, feeling her hand grip your hips so tight you knew it would bruise the next morning.

“just a little more sweetheart.” she said, and you wanted to listen, you wanted to be a good girl, for her. but you couldn’t. clenching around her and gripping the pillow in a vice grip, s hard you were scared it was going to rip. you didn’t want to ruin her pillow so you let go. holding the sheets softly.

billie saw your hesitation and sighed, “you can hold the pillow angel, i won’t be—” she licked her lips, “won’t be mad.” she reassured, and you put your hands back on the pillow.

“can i come?” you were so cute. whimpering and moaning under her. she almost said yes. wanted to say yes, but she wanted to show you how much better she was making you come, than your asshole boyfriend with a micro dick and massive ego.

“no.” she replied, and you whined.

“why not.” you had to hold back a moan, just to speak.

“cause’.”

you waited, bit your lip and closed your eyes and hoped she would finally allow you to come.

“billie.” your hands clutch onto the pillow desperately trying to hold it in. it hasn’t even been a minute yet.

“you can hold it a little more, can’t you angel?” you could’ve came right there. could’ve. it was a choice, she gave you a choice. you could come, or you could wait, just a little longer.

you held it in, feeling the strap hit deeper and deeper each thrust, it hit your g-spot every time. she already knew your body like that back of her hand and he didn’t even know what a clit was.

“how would henry think about this?” billie said, hinting to what your boyfriend would think if he saw you, “seeing you like this— hm?” you hated how she made you think of him while she was literally pounding into you.

“billie.” you warn—try to, at least. but the moan right after made it really hard to be intimidating, plus the fact that you couldn’t be intimidating to save your life. having billie trail after you where ever you go was enough scary-dog privilege. she did the intimidating, you were always smiling.

“yeah? have somethin’ to say?’ she mocked. you wanted to be mad at her, you wanted to turn around and teach her a lesson—you wanted. you never did a thing.

by this point the knot in your lower belly was hard to ignore, every time you moaned, or whined and whimpered you felt it throbbing. you squeezed around the silicone tightly feeling billie struggle to keep up the same fast pace. and you finally felt like you were winning, she was getting tired.

“can i come?” you whimpered, again, praying for her to say yes.

“you can come now angel.” billie bit her lip, holding your hips and you finally let go.

“i’m cumming!” you whimpered in between moans, screams filling her room as it finally hit you, your ears ringing and vision faltering as she helped you ride it out.

you whined when she pulled the strap out of you, leaving you empty and needy. “fuck, would you look at that.” there was a pleased smirk on her face as she looked at the soaked, creamy white strap.

“how’d that feel?” she asked, like she didn’t just give you the longest and best orgasm of your life, he’s never made you come before so you don’t even have anything to compare her to.

“s’ good.” you mumble drowsily, collapsing on your stomach to the pillow she placed there when she let go of her hold on your hips.

“so fucked out.” she smiled, and your head was turned to her bedside table, seeing some blood? red paint? something—stained on it, you ignore it, it was probably because of how old the thing was.

you heard her mumble something like, “fuck, i need to clean that” when seeing where your head was directioned, she was talking about the strap, right?

[noemilivv]

What the Hazbin Hotel gang would call their s/o !!

Including: Charlie, Vaggie, Angel Dust, Alastor, Sir Pentious, Husk, Lucifer, Vox, Velvette, Adam

Warnings: I was going to have Niffty and Lute in this mix but ultimately had no ideas so I replaced them with Vox and Velvette instead, Not proofread

Charlie Morningstar

Sweetie, Sunshine, Baby:

Charlie is more often to address you by your name, or a nickname of your name, but in the more soft and meaningful moments she’ll whip out a petname or two

Sunshine is definitely used the most, as cheesy as it is, you’re HER sunshine, and she wants you to know that!

Then sweetie comes in second, as I don’t see her using baby a lot, it just feels too… I don’t know, I just don’t see her using it a lot, she may or may not throw in an occasional ‘love’ though

Vaggie

Hon, Babe, Sweetie:

I don’t think this list is very debatable, as it’s seen in the show

In my mind, Vaggie’s not a huge fan of most petnames, so her preference leans towards the more casual ones

She doesn’t really save a specific time to use them, she kinda just uses them whenever she feels like it

Also, definitely hon and babe are the ones she uses most, she doesn’t use sweetie as much as the others

Angel Dust

Sugar, Baby, Handsome:

Now THIS is a list I think may possibly be debated, cause it’s not directly based off of the show

REASON BEING, is because his more well known names (Snookums, Toots, etc) I feel, in my personal opinion are more used in platonic settings for his female friends

I can see him using petnames personal to his significant other, but ‘baby’ is his most used, just cause it’s a classic, with handsome following in second

Obviously, he uses ‘sugar’, I just think he uses the others more, simply because they roll off the tongue for him easier

Alastor

My dear, Lovely, Darling:

‘My dear’ and ‘Darling’ I think are quite obvious as to why haha

‘Lovely’ gives me very old fashioned vibes and I just see him using it, not too sure why

I could also see him using ‘small one’ if you’re shorter than him

Sir Pentious

Beloved, Sweetheart, Dear:

‘Dear’ I think is a bit obvious, cause he used it once or twice in the show, correct me if I’m wrong, I know he used it with Niffty in S1E6

And I can easily see him using ‘Beloved’ - he’s this dorky little man, and you ARE his beloved, so it’s just fitting haha

‘Sweetheart’, I don’t have a reason to be honest, I just don’t know

Husk

Doll, Sweetheart, Hon:

‘Doll’ gives me vibes from the time period he died for some reason, and it kinda just fits his theme, so, no exact explanation for this one haha

Like Vaggie, he’s casual with his petnames, doesn’t use ‘em a whole lot, but ‘Hon’ has a tendency to roll of the tongue

For ‘Sweetheart’ it’s kinda for the more tender moments you two share, like in the moments when he looks at you thinks ‘Damn, I got so lucky with them’ and pulls you in for a soft kiss as he tucks your hair behind your ear and mutters ‘I love you so much, sweetheart..’ into your lips … Yeah those moments !

Other than that, he just usually calls you by your name, again, petnames aren’t usually just something that pop outta him a lot haha

Lucifer

Sweetie, Angel, Lovey:

No offense to the people who headcanon this, but I’ve seen a few people think Lucifer would call his s/o ‘Duckling’ (like in x reader fics) and I’m so sorry but it’s not my thing, I just don’t think that😭😭

‘Sweetie’ is the one he uses the most but ‘Lovey’ tends to spill out of him the easiest

He tends to call you ‘Angel’ or ‘My Angel’ when you’re upset and he’s comforting you, no reason in specific, that’s just kinda how he does things haha

Vox

My dear, My love, Baby/Babycakes:

‘Babycakes’ is definitely used in a more joking manner, other than that, Vox is a classy pet names kinda guy haha

‘My dear’ is his default but ‘My love’ definitely slips out from time to time

I think an honorable mention is just straight-up ‘Love’ — I can also see him using that one a lot

Ultimately it depends on the day with him tbh

Velvette

Baby, Sugar, Darling:

‘Sugar’ is kinda just a whenever per name, while ‘Baby’ is most likely used during sex, they both just kinda fit her atttitude yk? haha

As for ‘Darling’, it’s more often that not used in a more soft setting, but not always

I can also see her using ‘Honey’ every once in awhile, but it’s mostly mood based

Adam

Babe, Sugartits (or Hunk for M!readers), Sexy:

‘Babe’ is his go to, no questions asked, it kinda just fits him and his ego personality, ya know?

But ‘Sugartits’ is more so used in a joking manner, although ‘Hunk’ isn’t as much

‘Sexy’ …? I don’t even have an explanation for LMAO

Sometimes, maybe just MAYBE Adam will slip out a ‘Honey’ when he’s feeling soft :)

[coryosbaby]

i need more felix shit from u 😣😣

—Jealous Girl !

Fandom: ‘Saltburn’

Pairing: Felix Catton x fem! Best friend! Reader (also minor mentions of: Oliver quick x fem! Reader)

Synopsis: Tension and jealousy finally come to a head after you see your best friend Felix fucking another girl.

Content warning . Drug & alcohol use, watching without permission? possessiveness, friends to lovers with slight angst, dark! Ish reader // degradation & praise, facefucking, pnv, size kink, choking, breeding, mean! dom! Felix

If you ever explain how your best friend usually treats you, it can only be summed up into one word: gentle.

He treats you like glass. A beautiful, priceless artifact that requires great care. He pays for everything you own— your dresses, handbags, shoes. Even where you live, the infamous Saltburn estate. Every time he speaks to you, it’s like he’s speaking to a pet— sweet, gentle, but commanding all at once. In his eyes, you’re an innocent angel…or, as he puts it, a sweet bunny.

And you fucking hate it.

It doesn’t bother you in the sense that Felix cares for you; quite the contrary, in fact. You like his warmth, how protective he is, how sweet and kind he can be.

But he treats you too kindly. Too much like his other friends, too much like his sister, too much like a companion.

Not enough like a lover.

It seems that he’s completely oblivious to your longing stares, the way you follow him around and practically worship the ground he walks on. He never seems to grasp why you sit in his lap at parties, squirming around just a little too much, or why you cuddle up to him in his room when you’ve had a nightmare in your skimpy nightdress. He stares off into a space between and kisses girls right in front of you.

You want him to treat you like the sluts he brings home.

The whispers of how the boy fucks is something you’ve grown accustomed to. The girls you had become acquainted with who had slept with him, giggling to you about how much of a good lay he was. How mean, how brutal he was. How big he was.

‘This doesn’t bother you, does it? God, I know it’s weird because he’s your best friend ‘n all, but I don’t understand why you haven’t done him yet. I would’ve thought… y’know, given how close you two are...’

It makes you sick, knowing he does it to other girls and not you.

And now, sitting on a couch at one of Felix’s infamous Saltburn parties, you watch as he does it once again.

Your nose slides across the glass table in front of you. Two people sit beside you, making friendly conversation, but you can’t focus on them. Your nose is filled to the brim with glittery white powder as you stare at Felix’s new side piece through your faux lashes.

He’s got her in his lap, this girl. Olivia is her name, or something like that. You don’t like her. She’s too needy, clinging onto him a little too much for just a simple hookup. His hand grabs her hip as she presses kisses to his neck. He’s laughing, splayed across the leather couch across from you, as she whispers dirty phrases into his ear. You can tell that that’s what she’s doing because she’s grinding against him like a bitch in heat. It makes you stomach churn.

“(Y/N!)”

Your head looks up, and Farleigh stands in front of you. You give him a smile, though it’s mostly fake. You love him, but you can’t stop thinking about Felix.

Felix and her.

Farleigh chats with you about some guy he’s about to go and hook up with, telling you his whereabouts as a safety precaution. You nod to him as he leaves.

Felix has his hand up her skirt, now. He’s gripping her ass and rocking up into her clothed cunt.

You can’t look any longer.

You stumble to your feet, the room spinning a bit before turning to normal. An intoxicated kind of giddiness flows through you, and you brush past the couch and try to get Felix off your mind. You spot one of his new companions— Oliver. He’s quite handsome, you think. A little weird, a little quiet, but he’ll do for sure.

It isn’t long before you’ve got him in between your thighs in an empty corridor, a buzz flowing from your toes up to the crown of your head as he thrusts his tongue mercilessly into your drenched heat. He draws circles into your clit and laps at you like he’s parched. Oh, he’s good. Practiced, precise. He loves to please.

But he isn’t Felix.

Although Oliver’s tongue is skilled, it isn’t necessarily that that gets you to your peak. When you cum, you think of a familiar brunette with an eyebrow piercing, a wide smile, and dreamy eyes.

You let Oliver fuck you against the wall, after that.

It feels good. He’s big, rough, mean. Just how you like it.

Just how you want Felix to be.

You decide not to return to the party.

—

Your bare feet pad against the tiles of the Saltburn estate, your heels in your hand . The hallway is empty, save for one or two stragglers. No one really comes to this side of the house. You’re attempting to walk— or in this case, stumble— to your room. But everything is blurry, your feet dancing, and—

Shit, is this even your hallway?

You don’t know, really. You’re drunk, high. You don’t give a shit.

Your fingers are dancing across the walls, admiring the intricate paintings placed on each one. You lick your lips and taste a tequila shot, your dress askew. Fuck it.

You’re admiring The Fallen Angel by Alexandra Cabanel when you hear them.

It starts out slow— a deep, guttural moan, from the door to your left. It translates into a familiar voice, growling.

“What?” It teases. “Is my cock too much for you? Too big, huh?”

And then another sound comes through the thin walls and slightly opened door. A high pitched whine, pleading.

“Felix! Please, it feels so good.”

Your brows furrow. Drunken confusion. You silently creep up to the door, wondering. Your eyes peek through at the scene.

The color drains from your face.

Of course it’s Felix. Felix and her.

He’s got her bent over an expensive wood table. He’s pulling her hair, pressing his hips into her with every push and pull. She’s got her mouth open as her eyes roll back in ecstasy, and her cunt swallows him whole.

Your shoes drop to the ground in utter shock.

Now that seems to grab the pair’s attention. Felix looks back, and his eyes catch your dilated ones. He curses, slipping out of her and trying to conceal himself as he pulls his pants up. The girl catches sight of you, too, and she’s instantly pulling down her top and throwing her clothes on.

“Christ, Bunny!” Felix exclaims, flushed. “The fuck are you doing all the way over here?”

Your bottom lip wobbles, but you won’t cry. Not in front of him. Not in front of his whore.

You turn before you even know what you’re doing, and you scurry away from the scene with tears running hotly down your cheeks.

So much for parties.

—

When you wake in the morning, you’ve got a pounding headache and you’re sprawled out on your bed.

Your body aches, and you whine as you turn over on your side. The memories of last night flood back into your psyche, and you want to throw up. Of course the one thing you don’t want to remember is buried so prominently into your skull that it’s the first thing you think about.

It’s not like Felix hasn’t fucked anyone before. But seeing it, actually watching him do it to another girl, makes you sick. You don’t know how you’re going to look him in the eye at breakfast.

You stand up on wobbly legs. You make your way to the bathroom, throw your guts up at least twice, and then brush your teeth. A warm shower calms you down, though your head still hurts. You’ll have to take some ibuprofen later.

You make your way to the dining room in a juicy tracksuit and brown ugg boots. You slide a pair of sunnies on your face to protect you from the blinding sun, letting out a pained moan when it shines through the large stain glass window.

“Good morning, sunshine!” Farleigh coos from the table. You give him the middle finger before plopping down in a seat beside Oliver. His eyes scan over you, taking in your appearance. His knee bumps against yours, and he whispers a quiet ‘good morning’ to you.

God, he’s a clingy little shit, isn’t he?

Felix’s eyes follow your every move. Usually you sit next to him in the mornings, but as of right now, why bother? The closer to get to him, the more vivid the image of him fucking her comes into your mind.

You swallow down a few pieces of toast and some orange juice. Elsbeth is talking about a party reserved for Oliver for his birthday, one that they will host this weekend. How absolutely and utterly fan-fucking-tastic.

Oh, well. You’ll be able to dress up, at least. That’ll probably be the best part.

You ignore Felix for the entirety of the day. There’s still that fire coiling in your gut everytime you look at him, that hot bubble of rage and jealousy. Oliver looks up at you through long eyelashes during a game of tennis, and you find the way to satiate that heat.

—

It’s an awful idea. A terrible, mean, despicable idea.

You knew Felix would be out. It was around five pm— the time when he usually begins coming back to the house from his afternoon run. He would be back in twenty to thirty minutes.

“You’re incredibly fucked. Do you know that?”

Oliver whispers it huskily, pleased, as you push him down on a set of familiar satin sheets. You smirk, your cunt grinding down onto him.

“And you’re not?”

He grunts as you unbutton his shirt. You kiss down his chest, soon getting rid of your bra and top. You rock back on him slowly, teasing. His hand moves around to grope your ass, but you grab ahold of his wrist.

“Are you going to behave?”

A smirk plays on his lips. You want to slap it off of him.

“No.”

You snake your hand down to his bulge, giving it a considerable squeeze. He lets out a tiny gasp, biting his lower lip.

“What was that?” You say, almost threatening.

He gulps. He looks almost cute with the blush dusting across his face.

“Yes.” he whispers. You ghost your fingers over his waistband.

“What was that?”

“Yes, I’ll behave.”

He hisses it, and you’re pleased.

“Good boy.”

And then when he’s inside you, you bounce on him like your life depends on it. You look up above Felix’s bed, at the framed picture of you and him. He had hung it up, and for that you’re thankful. You concentrate on the way photo Felix’s fingers tightly grip a shot glass. Oliver lets out tiny whines as you clench around his cock, and you grind your clit against the base of him. You know that Felix catches you both when you look back at the slightly cracked door and see him there— blue headband, muscle tee and shorts. When you lock eyes, he moves away from the door and down the hall with a clenched jaw and cheeks blooming red.

—

The days pass from one into three, and soon it’s Oliver’s birthday. Felix has avoided you, much to your dismay. You thought he would give in sooner. If you didn’t know any better, you would think that he was trying to pretend the situation didn’t happen altogether. But the hard stare he gives you whenever he sees you, the clenching of his hands, and the plain ignorance of your presence gives him away.

You’ve decided to dress as a Bunny for Oliver’s infamous costume party. Your favorite animal, but also another way to piss Felix off. Wearing a pink bodysuit, sparkly fishnets, and pink bunny ears, you make your way into the party beside Venetia, who’s ranting about her current situationship with some girl she met at a club. Scanning the crowd, you take notice of Felix from across the room. Angel wings sit on his shoulders, his eyes lined with a black eye pencil. He’s wearing a white wifebeater.

You go to the bar and take a few shots to stifle your nerves. Felix’s eyes follow you as you grab a bottle from the bartender and make your way outside.

It isn’t long before you’re absolutely plastered. Giggling to yourself, you make your way towards the hedge maze in the backyard. Felix’s voice, the one he hasn’t used to talk to you directly for a few days, interrupts your diddle daddling.

“We need to talk.”

You keep walking, him trailing behind you.

“I don’t know what you’re talking about, Felix.”

His big hand grabbing your arm and spinning you around to look at him surprises you. He glares.

“You know exactly what I’m talking about.”

You back away, winding through the labyrinth of bushes. Felix groans as you begin to skip around each corner.

“This isn’t a game, y’know!” He calls, as he tries his best to keep up with you. It isn’t long before you’re both standing in the middle of the maze. The stone statue overpowers the both of your bodies as it leers down in a violent pose. You smile crookedly when Felix stalks over to you, making a beeline for the other side of the statue. It doesn’t seem to be funny to him.

He catches you when you least expect it, grabbing you by the shoulders.

“What the fuck is wrong with you, (Y/N)?!”

He yells it, infuriated, deep vocal cords strumming. It makes you jump. He never calls you by your real name.

He purses his lips, anger evident on his face as you smile up at him still.

“‘M jus’ having fun, Fel. Whats wrong with that?”

“What’s— what’s wrong with—“ he laughs, dry and humorless, as he pushes you away from him. “Whats wrong is that you fucked my friend in my room! What the hell went through your head?!“

You clench your teeth.

“I don’t know, Felix,” you utter sarcastically. “I really don’t know. Call it irritational horniness. But tell me. Are you mad? For once, once in your fucking life, are you mad?”

“Of course I’m mad!” he seethes, as if it’s obvious. “But why do you want that? What prompted this?”

You avert from his piercing gaze, turning your back on him. Your cheeks are flaring with heat from how he’s treating you, your inner thighs wet and sticky.

God, this is so wrong.

“I think you know.”

Genuinely confused, Felix throws up his hands. He’s exasperated.

“No, I don’t. I don’t, (Y/N), so tell me. Tell me the damn truth!”

“The truth?” You say, finally. “‘S that what you want?”

You whirl around, anger finally taking over in your usually pliant, doe eyes.

“The truth, Felix, is that you treat me like a kid!” You yell. Your voice cracks, and you hate it. “You treat me like a fucking child! Like your friend! Like a… like a—“

Your breath heaves, and you try to find the words you’re looking for. Felix looks at you, his brows furrowed.

You can’t open your mouth anymore, too distraught, too open. You’re saying all the things you promised you’d keep buried deep inside you.

Felix takes a step forward. You take a step back. Your lower back hits the stone statue, and you wince at the way it digs into your skin.

“What are you saying?” He asks, careful with his words. You laugh bitterly in his face— at least, as close as you can get to his face. He towers over you like a giant.

“I’m saying that after all this time, after all these years, I thought you’d notice how badly I want you. But clearly not, with the way I caught you fucking that cunt last weekend.”

The words finally come out— slurred because of your drunkenness, dry because you’ve given up. You’ve given up on Felix, on the possibility of him ever returning the feelings you’ve always had for him. You’ve given up on your friendship, on his kindness. You don’t want it anymore. Why continue this if it’s only going to hurt you?

The boy is stunned into silence for a mere moment.

“What?”

You turn away from his stare, looking down at the ground.

“You heard me, Felix.”

His eyes follow your lips, nose, eyes. His lips part ever so slightly, and his eyes are so dark that they’re almost black as realization settles over him.

“So that’s what you want?”

It comes out hushed, like a secret. His breath is hot against your lips as he leans in close to you.

“All this time you’ve been acting like this.. all because you want me to fuck you? Because you’re jealous?”

You stare up at him in a daze, silent. Your cheeks flare with embarrassment. You jump when Felix lets out a chuckle, something grating and deep, that permeates your bones and worms its way inside your guts.

“God, you’re sick.”

He scoffs, moving forward on his long legs. His big hand wraps itself around your hair and tugs. You let out a gasp as he tilts your head back, the burn of your scalp making your legs clench together.

“You’ve been torturing me for weeks—“ he spits, yanking at the roots of your hair even harder, and you let out a squeak. “— Not speaking to me, making me question what I could’ve possibly done wrong, fucking my friend in my bed, all because you want to me treat you like some whore?“

Your mouth gapes open, and you’re frozen like a deer in headlights as Felix finally gives you what you want. He continues to speak, but not before his knee is coming up to rub in between your thighs. It’s such a sudden movement, so aggressive, that your legs buckle and you grab onto his shoulders for purchase. His hands splay across your hips, moving you in tandem across the fabric of his jeans.

“Don’t worry.” He says. “You’ll never have to worry about that again.”

“Felix—” you start, but his hand slapping you clear across the face makes you lose all words. Your cheek flares with heat from his hand coming down on it, and you grasp the red mark in pain.

“Was he good?” he growls, grabbing the hand touching your face and putting it in his much larger one. He places it over his crotch, and you feel the giant bulge against the fabric. “Was he as big as me? Did he fuck you the way you thought I would?”

You shake, stuttering on every phrase in your vocabulary. Felix grinds into your hand.

“You think that I don’t want you like this?”

It comes out strained, tortured. Like it’s painful for you to even assume that. Your mouth waters at the feeling of his girth underneath your palm.

“I’ve never been this hard for anyone,” he breathes. “I jerked my cock every night when you were in my bed because I thought it was the closest I could get to you. I fucking…God, do you even know what you do me?“

He works his thigh against your pussy, and you whine desperately as you pull away from his assault on you. You kiss your way down his chest, worship his body, lave your tongue over the skin peeking out from his unbuttoned shirt as you sink down to your knees. Your hands fumble with his belt, waiting for the moment when his cock will be released and you’ll finally get what you’ve been begging for. He grunts, tilting his head as he watches you desperately fumble with the leather around his waist.

“Already trying to suck me off? You’re even more pathetic than I thought.”

You press your mouth against his thigh and practically drool at his words. He looks down at you like a God, golden angel wings splaying out in the moonlight for you to gape at. How ironic it is, that he decided to wear this costume tonight.

“All for you, Felix,” you say, pulling his cock out of the confines of his jeans. You gape at his impressive length.

“That’s right,” he agrees, his thumb brushing over your lip. “Now put me in your mouth. Show me how much of a fucking slut you are.”

You do as you’re told, tongue lolling out to lick a stripe up his shaft. He clenches his jaw, watching as you hold eye contact with him when you take his dick into the warm, wet confines of your mouth. His hand wraps around the nape of your neck and he pushes you down onto him. Choking, your nose hits the soft bed of pubic hair trimmed neatly at his base. Your eyes roll back as he begins to fuck your throat, pleasure and electricity flowing through your head and down to your toes. The corners of your mouth burn as he stretches out your mouth.

“Didn’t know you could take dick so good,” Felix muses, his balls slapping against your chin. “If I would’ve known how badly you wanted this, I would’ve slid my cock inside you the night you caught me with that girl.”

That girl. He can’t even remember her name. It satisfies something dark that’s been blooming in you since you saw him sticking his dick where it didn’t belong.

You moan around him, spit trailing down your neck as you tongue at his slit. Your hands grip his big, meaty thighs, and it occurs to you just how strong he is. He could break you, rip you apart piece by piece, and you couldn’t do anything about it. The thought arouses you to no end.

“You pissed me off so fuckin’ much that night, y’know that?” He rambles, his thighs squeezing the sides of your face. He’s practically trapping you against his cock, and you try your hardest to breathe through your nose but you can feel your vision blurring at the edges. “You caught me in the middle of it, didn’t even say sorry. Didn’t help me finish. You’re a sick little bitch for watching me fuck her. I bet you touched yourself after that, didn’t you? Touched your little cunt thinking about the way I used her?”

You whimper around him, your fingers attempting to move down and rub against your clit. But Felix lets out a sound in the back of his throat and kicks your hand away.

“Don’t. You don’t get to cum tonight. You put your hands on me, or you don’t put them on anything at all.”

Your hands wrap around the back of his thighs, then, as you hollow your cheeks around him. You’ll do anything he demands you to.

After a long moment of being face fucked with only a few breathing breaks in between, your throat is scratchy and raw. Felix yanks you off of him, and you wheeze as you’re thrown to the ground, your hand going to your throat as your eyes drip with citrine tears. Felix stands for a moment to let you catch your breath. He’s still your best friend, after all— he cares about your well being, as angry as he is right now.

It isn’t long, however, before he’s grabbing you up by your elbow and bending you over the marble statue. Your cheek lands on the cold stone, the crotch of your bodysuit is ripped open, exposing your lace panties and the fat globes of your ass. You stick yourself out for him, moaning as he rips your underwear off of you and throws it on the ground. He spreads your legs and coos at your dripping cunt.

“Oh, look at that,” his fingers go to either side of your pussy lips, spreading them apart and revealing your teeny tiny hole. “It’s clenching s’much, isn’t it, sweetheart? It’s all swollen ‘n red. It’s been so worked up all night, I bet.”

“Felix,” you cry, a blubbering mess. “Please.”

He chuckles, rubbing the tip of his finger against your clit. You quiver underneath his touch, gasping when his aching cockhead suddenly brushes up against your entrance.

“I want to know how badly you want me. Tell me, darling. Tell me how pathetic you are.”

“I want it,” your voice comes out small, weak. “I want you to fuck me until I can’t feel my legs. Wan’ you to stretch me out on your fat cock, Felix. Give it t’me, pleasepleaseplease…”

He lets out a dreamy sigh, feeling you trying to clench around the tip of his cock, trying to suck him in. Your head is fuzzy, your cunt throbbing. You need him more than you need air.

“Okay,” he lets out, whispering. It’s an oddly gentle tone, and you know it’s because this situation could change the outcome of your friendship forever. “Okay, sweetheart.”

He pushes forward, the fat tip of his cock popping into your entrance, and you let out a mewl. Felix is big, and not just in his height or his shoulders. He stretches you so deliciously to the point where it’s borderline painful.

“Oh my god,” he grits his teeth, his head tipping back. “God, you’re a tight little thing. So tiny..”

You know he’s talking to your pussy now, drunk off the way you’re wrapping around his shaft. He moves slow, gentle strokes against your aching pussy, his fingers digging bruises into your hips as he struggles to contain himself.

Your cheek is smushed against the hard surface below you, but that doesn’t stop you from speaking.

“It’s okay,” you assure him, moaning. “Destroy me, rip me apart.. I don’t care, Felix.”

He moans along with you, a sound of pure, unleashed pleasure. His hips speed up, and he fucks into your cunt with reckless abandon as your nails dig into the marble below you. His cock is so deep that you can almost feel him in your throat.

He angles at a spot inside that has you keening, your hips fucking back onto him as he rams into you. Your nails scrape against the statue, tears running down your cheeks.

“Felix,” you moan out, but it’s hard to speak as the breath is being knocked out of you.

“Mmm,” he hums, grabbing your hips. “‘M gonna cum. ‘M gonna cum in your sweet little pussy.”

“Please,” you gasp. “Please, fill me up, fill up my pussy!”

“That’s what you want, isn’t it?” His arms lift your body up, and his biceps curl around your neck. Your eyes widen as he tightens his grip, placing you in a chokehold underneath him. His hips slap against yours, his steady words bordering on a whine. “You want me to cum inside you? Get you all pregnant and full? Mmm, that’d be a pretty sight, wouldn’t it…”

You clench down on him. He growls, a sigh of your name tumbling out of his mouth. His hips stutter. And with one last harsh thrust, he’s cumming. His warmth fills you to the brim and spills over the cusp as he fucks into you, teeth scraping against your neck as he bites down and leaves a mark. Sweat drips drown your temple, small pants escaping your lips as you try to swallow oxygen into your lungs. Felix’s arms are still wrapped around you neck, but they aren’t wrapped tight enough to cut off your air completely.

Definitely tight enough to bruise, though.

He slows, after a few more moments. You still grind onto his overstimulated cock, and he squeezes your throat in warning.

“What did I tell you? You don’t get to cum tonight.”

Your face becomes blotchy with tears, and you sob as he pulls out of you. His cum spills down onto the concrete floor, your pussy gushing with his seed, and you want to scream.

“But Felix,” you babble, grabbing onto his arm as he tucks himself back into his pants. “No, baby, please—“

“This is what you wanted,” he replies, nonchalant, as if he didn’t just fuck your brains out. His glances down at the creamy spend that had fallen out of you and onto the ground. Grabbing you by your hair, he pushes you down onto your knees. He gestures to his cum, licking his lips.

“Now clean that up,” he demands. “Wouldn’t want to leave a mess, would we?”

:: @mysticpenguincreation @nightmare-niko @iheartinkonpaper @claireyberryy @becauseseaotters @emmalandry

[im-sleepdeprived]

Your page says requests are open, so I'm sorry if I missed something 🙏🏻 Could you possibly do Peter Parker (preferably TASM) and friend reader who has a pet jumping spider that she named after him (bc she's crushing bad)? I think it would be funny if she didn't know he was Spider-man. ❤️

this is actually the cutest thing ever i loved writing this😭 hope you enjoy the little blurb !! no warnings just tooth rotting fluff and some deep, deep pining !!

“Look!” You exclaimed, holding up a see-through container filled with dirt, grass, and twigs, housing your newly acquired pet.

Peter leaned down to peer into it. “He’s adorable.”

You beamed. “I know right!” You’d always had a fascination for critters, but especially arachnids. Hence the tiny jumping spider in your hands right now. Peter found it precious when you rambled on about your love for spiders, not knowing that your very best friend (and long time admirer) was, in part, one. He always felt a little special. 

He knew it was stupid, you were never talking about him. Hell, you had no clue he was Spider-Man. But still. Usually everyone was freaked out about spiders, people hated them, even him (before the bite) and yet you managed to see the beauty in them. What other people found gross and freaky you found intriguing. 

You’d been over the moon this past week since you found out there were jumping spiders finally available  (he never would’ve guessed it, but apparently they were popular pets) at your local reptile store, (you were also adamant about not getting one from a big chain store). 

“I named him after you,” you admitted a little bashfully.

“Oh?” Peter could feel his heart speed up. Maybe his secret wasn’t as well protected as he thought it was. 

“His eyes, see?” You moved the container closer to him and placed your index finger on it, tapping gently. “He’s got those two big ones in the front and these ones on the side.” More tapping from your finger. “He reminded me of you when you wear glasses,” you giggled sweetly.

Peter felt his heart soar. “Yeah?” He smiled wide. “Well I’ve gotta say I’m honored, I know how long you’ve wanted one.”

“Yeah,” you beamed. You always appreciated that Peter let you ramble on about your favorite things, no matter how weird they were. You knew it was an unconventional interest, and yet he never made you feel different or odd they were. It only made you fall that much more in love with him. 

“Did you know that the males perform special dances for the females to get them to mate with them?”

You side-eyed Peter, impressed with his knowledge. Usually you were the one hitting him with random facts. “No, actually, I didn’t know that. Could you imagine if humans did that?” You laughed.

“Well isn’t that whats going online these days? With all those dance trends and ‘thirst traps’.” He made quotation marks with his fingers on that last part, making you laugh again.

“I wonder if Spider-Man does that,” you pondered. 

“What do you mean?” Peter’s brows furrowed. 

“I mean, isn’t he part spider or something? That’s how he can climb walls and stuff, right? And isn’t it why his name is literally Spider-Man. I just wonder how many spider traits he actually possesses.”

“Not the webs, the webs are artificial.” He answered you simply, eyes going wide when he noted the curious look you gave him. “Oh! I mean—I think I heard it—READ IT! Yeah,” he cleared his throat, “I read it somewhere.” Everyday it was getting harder and harder to keep this secret from you. 

“Okay weirdo,” you chuckled. “It was between you and him.” You said suddenly.

“Me and who?” Peter asked. 

“You and Spider-Man,” you said as if it made all the sense in the world. You tapped the small box in your hands again. “I almost named little Petey here Spider-Man cause I thought it was cute.”

Peter crossed his arms and smirked at you. “Really?” He thought it was the sweetest thing he’d ever heard. If you weren’t careful, he was going to pull out his suit right now and tell you everything. Well, either that or kiss the living daylights out of you. He reallyyy wanted that last one to happen. “And why didn’t you?”

“Well Spider-Man great and all, don’t get me wrong, saving the city and all,” you made a gesture with your hands, “but you’re my best friend Pete. Of course I’d pick you.”

Peter stood shocked. Honestly, he didn’t deserve you and all your kindness. Everyone loved Spider-Man, no one really cared about Peter. No one but you apparently.

“Now,” you grinned wickedly, “wanna take Peter 2.0 out the box and see how far he can jump?”

He scoffed, “Can’t believe you even have to ask sweetheart.”

“Great,” you handed him the container,” you go first. I wanna get a picture of you and your name twin!”

Peter laughed sweetly and looked down at his ‘name twin’ lounging leisurely on his little twig. Slowly, Peter lifted the lid and placed his finger beside Peter 2.0, allowing the spider, about the size of his fingernail, to crawl onto the tip of his finger. 

He slowly lifted his wrist out the box and looked over to where you stood, camera in hand, grinning wide. “I took your camera, hope that’s okay.” You said sweetly. 

“Yeah, it fine.” he wanted to tell you you could anything of his you wanted.

“Cool,” you held the camera up and positioned the viewfinder so it was in front of your eye. “Okay…Smile in 1…2…” you squealed. 

Peter hadn’t noticed, too busy ogling at you and how beautiful you looked using his camera like that, but your jumping spider had, well….jumped. 

“Peter!” You yelled. 

“Me or him?”

You burst into giggles, Peter (human) following suit. 

[monstersflashlight]

The hydra's pet (Day 6/8 of 10k follower's event)

Fem!Hydra x gn!reader || oral sex, overstimulation, inapropiate use of human pet, dub-con, degradation (lowkey)

It all started with a bad idea, like every other sexual encounter you had before her.

As the king’s guard, you are obligated to follow his rules and commands, you don’t like it most of the time, but you can’t argue with him either. So when he asks you to chase a hydra and bring back at least two of its heads, you can’t do shit but comply.

You get to cut two of her heads before she overpowers you, making you submit under her paw as she laughs maniacally over you. You are scared for your life, but she doesn’t end you. She grabs you and flies away. She brings you to a big cave, ornamented with all kinds of treasures and fancy silks. She tells you she’s going to keep you, you are her new human pet.

And you hate it.

But after that, you start to like it. You start to like her. It comes to you gradually. At first, the danger she represents scares you, but deep down you know is more than that. Deep down you know the spike of anxiety inside of you is not because of fear, but because of arousal. She’s so big and so imposing, and you can’t ignore how her pussy glistens when she takes flight over you. You are a bit obsessed with her. And when you touch yourself at night… You can’t stop yourself from thinking about her, screaming “mistress” as you come.

The next morning she has a knowing smirk on her faces, all five of them predatory as you approach. “Come here, pet.” She pats the ground next to her huge body and you can’t do nothing but to comply.

“Yes,” you agree as you approach slowly, not knowing what’s going to happen.

Her smiles get even more dangerous, a spike of anxiety growing inside of you when she says: “Yes, what? You didn’t doubt what to call me when you touched yourself last night, pet. Don’t be shy now.” You blush hard knowing she was listening, she was probably looking, you don’t know if she can see in the dark, but it could be. She could have been watching… Why does that make you hot?

“Ye- yes, mistress,” you finally say, heat pooling in your lower abdomen.

“That’s a good little pet.” She literally pats your head as she manhandles (woman-handles? hydra-handles?) your body and brings it close to one of her heads.

You know better than to struggle, but to be honest, you wouldn’t want to struggle either way. You know what that is about, you know how it’s going to end… With you making a mess out of you as she laughs cruelly, you can picture it perfectly. It doesn’t matter that’s the first time she tries something with you, you know without a doubt that you are going to get hooked to the feel of her.

She makes you come in less than five minutes, but she doesn’t stop there. She makes fun of how pathetic and eager to cum you are. How cutely your hole twitches when she pushes her long tongue inside, stretching you and pinching your abdomen with her teeth while doing it. The danger shouldn’t be a turn on, but it is, good goddess it is.

She tongue-fucks you with each one of her heads, her tongue impossibly deep every single time, and your body oversensitive after more than one orgasm. It’s the filthiest and most amazing feeling you’ve ever felt. And then she uses more than one head at the same time, tongues intertwining inside of your hole as you scream and cry out. She just laughs it off, and keeps making fun out of your needy human body.

And you love it. You are eager for it. It makes you cum even harder.

And it only grows from there. One day, when she’s bored, she uses your body as her personal grinder. All your body. Her pussy is giant and enticing, and you could stare at it for hours, so similar to a human one but so very big. You are amazed by it, by her in all her glory. She gets wet so easily, you rub her clit with both your hands and it’s almost instant. She always growls at you and orders you around, but in that moment… You are the one with the power to make a mess out of her.

And you love it. You love the power trip that brings you, you love how wet she gets, how loud.

You love being able to bring her to a babbling mess, her giant body squirming as she grabs you by the waist and uses you to grind against her pussy. Your whole body gets wet and sticky, and you are enamored by the feel of it. She comes messily, drenching you in her juices, just to lick you clean after, making you come at least twice before helping you back into clothes.

It’s just like that when you realize. You don’t only love the feel of her, the exhilarating feeling of her giant body against yours, her long tongues inside your needy hole...

You love her.

Some people would call you out and say you have Stockholm syndrome, but you know better than to believe that. That syndrome is, after all, just the product of misogyny and stupid men. You and her, on the other hand…

Are just perfect for each other.

[saetoru]

✩ ‧₊˚ ✩ FATHERLY COMPETITION — GETO SUGURU.

contents. non curse au, girl dad! suguru ft the twins, fem! + mother! reader, satoru is megumi’s father <3, silly lil family shenanigans and suguru having a one sided rivalry w satoru bc he’s a bum like that

suguru loves being a father—it’s just as they say it is. one day, you’re free and young and opposed to the idea of being tied down, and then the next second you’re cradling two newborns that make you want to dig to the earth’s core with your bare hands, all for the tiny humans in front of you.

he loves his two girls—they make the world go around and the stars come out and they make something as bright as the sun look dull and lifeless compared to those sweet smiles. but sometimes, he’d really appreciate being able to sleep in on a saturday morning.

“daddy, wake up,” there’s a poke to his cheek. mimiko is at least gentle with her disruptions—nanako has simply taken to jumping on the mattress by his feet.

“daddy, you promised,” nanako whines—it’s makes you stir with a soft groan, eyes opening to peer up at the two (very cute) troublemakers in your bed.

“what’d you promise this time, suguru?” you raise a brow, making him sigh as he rubs the sleep from his eyes.

“said i’d take them to the zoo,” he grunts, “but it’s not open for—” he looks at the time on his phone. seven thirty two am. “for another two and a half hours.”

“girls,” you start, “we have to wait a bit. why don’t you go back to bed—”

“we can stay here, mommy!” nanako brightens, squeezing between you and suguru to wrap her arms around your neck.

it’s cute, you suppose. it’s always endearing to be snuggled up by one of your little girls, but something tells you that you won’t be sleeping again any time soon. so you sigh, turning towards suguru and wrapping nanako in your arms as suguru does the same with mimiko and gives you an amused grin.

“i think we spoil them,” he murmurs, making you scoff.

“you spoil them. i’m the voice of reason in this household.”

“so now it’s a crime to give your kids fun family experiences that not everyone is fortunate enough to have—”

“you know what the not so generous parents out there probably have more than us? sleep.”

“that’s probably true,” he mutters, yawning before he presses a gentle kiss to mimiko’s forehead. “but at least we’re the world’s coolest parents. right girls?”

“megumi is going to the beach today,” nanako says as a matter of factly, “his dad is super cool.”

“and funny,” mimiko adds.

suguru’s face sours at that—you try your best not to giggle.

“oh so now satoru is cooler than me? he shouldn’t even be trusted near the ocean with children, they’ll drown—”

“satoru is careful,” you chuckle, “well….most of the time.”

“okay,” suguru raises a brow, looking expectantly at nanako, “but has satoru ever taken megumi ice skating? bet he hasn’t done that—”

“yeah they did,” nanako says instantly, “that’s why we asked to go.”

“well have they gone to the zoo?” he asks petulantly. she nods, and his lips curl into a pout.

suguru looks positively fumed at the idea that his best friend seems to be cooler in the eyes of his own children. you can practically watch the gears work in his head before he looks smugly over at the blonde girl curled up against your chest.

“okay, but have they ever been to a petting zoo?” he raises a brow, “there’s a difference.”

the two girls exchange a look before slowly, the excitement creeps up on their faces as they look at him in disbelief. suguru looks hopelessly smug with himself.

“you mean we can pet the animals?” nanako asks in wonder.

“yup,” suguru nods, grinning widely. you snort at his petty one sided competition.

“can i pet a giraffe?” mimiko asks, poking his arm as he nods excitedly.

“yeah, and you can feed it too.”

they squeal at that—and if suguru throws you a look of pure victory on his face, you decide not to ruin his moment just yet. because you already know it won’t last long until—

“what about whales? can we pet those too?”

“and a shark?”

“i wanna pet a tiger!”

“well, i don’t think those are really the safest options for a petting—”

“daddy, you’re so cool,” they gasp. suguru gives you a look that screams for help, but you only giggle, pecking nanako on the forehead as you send a sly wink to your husband.

“you are so cool,” you agree, “i can’t wait to see the tigers we can pet.”

he looks at you with betrayal in his eyes as the pout returns on his lips. “i trusted you,” he huffs.

“that was your fault,” you grin cheekily. it’s all a bit funny at his expense—but you also can’t help but be endeared at the way suguru does his best. for your girls. for you. for your sweet little family. so you take mercy on him, turning to your daughters as you murmur, “i think you’re a bit too young for those animals right now. let’s start small, yeah?”

they nod along, and you and suguru share an amused look. and then—

“make sure you guys tell megumi all about your trip next time you see him, okay?”

suguru be bragging to satoru like “my kids went to the petting zoo” and satoru’s clueless ass is like “oh !! that’s so nice !! i’m taking my kids to disney !!”

[wonhes]

WARNINGS: ….. angst 😺👍 + cursing

☁︎ — JUNE 24TH, 2024 10:58 PM

blinking to try and comprehend what they heard, they all blankly look at each other as anton’s words continue ringing in their heads. trying their best to put into words what they were all thinking, they continue staring at each other in complete disbelief. shotaro is the first to break the silence by loudly scoffing at his younger friend.

shaking his head at him, he takes a step forward towards anton. bringing the back of his hand up, he smacks anton’s chest causing anton to let out a small “ow.”

“and what the actual fuck posessed you to say that?” shotaro asks, disapproval written all over his tone.

“it was a joke!” anton quickly yells back as he rubs his chest.

“look around,” eunseok states as he moves to point at the rest of the boys. “is anybody laughing?”

“i panicked, i’m sorry!” anton sighs, bringing a hand up to nervously chew on one of his fingernails. “i was just trying to lighten the mood,” he mumbles to himself.

“you said sohee was going to get a restraining order against her!” wonbin quickly yells back. “in what world is that funny?”

“okay, i did not say it like that!” anton immediately argues back, shaking his head at wonbin’s words. he doesn’t understand why everyone is making such a big fuss. anton swears he has jokingly told sohee that before and it didn’t result in him crying. he genuinely does not understand why him making that joke towards you led to you crying and locking yourself up in your room.

“if anyone should get a restraining order is yn but on this guy over here,” eunseok sighs shaking his head as he uses his index finger to point towards seunghan’s direction.

rolling his eyes at eunseok’s comment, seunghan brings a hand up to flip eunseok off; this instantly causing eunseok to flip seunghan back with both of his hands.

“she literally texts him everyday! i was just trying to be funny,” anton continued on defending himself, ignoring the two boys bickering.

“god,” shotaro sighs once more. “anton, do you not know how to read a room?”

“your sister is in love with sohee,” shotaro states. with wide eyes, anton quickly looks at your friends for confirmation. when getting the confirmation he needed, he awkwardly shifts in his spot.

“she texts him every day probably hoping he’s going to magically unblock her one of these days– she wants to work things out with him but he refuses to hear her out,” shotaro sighs, shaking his head at sohee’s way of handling the situation. “you told her he was out of town so that most likely caused her to believe you’re still in contact with him–” shotaro continues explaining. “you made a tasteless joke about sohee getting a restraining order against her so she most definitely believes that came out of his mouth.” shotaro finally concludes.

“do you now understand why your sister is crying or do i have to dumb it down some more?” shotaro speaks up once more causing eunseok to let out a small snicker at his choice of words.

“wait—” eunseok’s eyes immediately go wide. “yn,” he says, turning to his friends as they all instantly gasp and make their way up the stairs to go to your room and comfort you.

from up the stairs, eunseok turns back for a brief second and points down at seunghan. “and don’t you dare step foot upstairs,” he states before turning back to continue walking up the stairs.

rolling his eyes at eunseok’s comment, seunghan lightly pats both shotaro and anton’s chest to signal them to follow the rest up the stairs.

JUNE 24TH, 2024 11:13 PM

“baby, open the door,” wonbin sighs as he continues to knock at your door. turning back to look at sungchan and eunseok, he shakes his head at them.

“pretty girl?” sungchan tries now, jiggling your doorknob.

“sugar plum, please!” eunseok desperately yells out, wanting nothing more than to be there for you.

“baby? sugar plum? pretty girl? what the fuck?” seunghan mumbles to himself, confused on the sudden pet names you were receiving.

shaking his head at seunghan, wonbin couldn’t help but roll his eyes at him. “platonically, asshole.”

“you’re just mad yn didn’t like it when you called her pretty girl,” eunseok quickly shot back, turning to smirk at the shorter boy.

gasping at his words, shotaro and anton bring a hand up to smack their friend. “you called her ‘pretty girl’?” shotaro asks in full on disbelief.

“you fucking called my sister ‘pretty girl’?” anton angrily asks.

“ow–” seunghan states as he begins rubbing his head and arm. “sungchan just called her that and nobody fucking cared!”

“she’s my best friend!” sungchan quickly reasons back. “besides, it’s platonically. yours on the other hand was not.”

“eunseok, what else has he done.” anton asks as he continues to angrily eye his friend.

“oh, i’ll gladly tell you–” eunseok begins as he turns to look at seunghan’s panic figure shaking his head at him, pleading him to stop.

“yn,” shotaro randomly speaks up. at the sound of his voice, everyone shifts their attention towards him and watch as he brings a hand up to knock at your door.

“what the fuck are you doing?” anton whispers out towards his older friend.

“trust me,” shotaro quickly answers back before softly knocking once more. “i know you don’t know me like that but it’s shotaro,” shotaro quietly says.

“i’m really close to sohee,” he adds as he continues speaking to you against your door. “you-” at the sound of the door unlocking and swinging open he closes his mouth.

“i didn’t kiss seunghan,” you quickly state, looking up at shotaro with tears spilling from your eyes.

softly smiling down at you, he nods his head at your words. “i know,” he reassures you.

“please tell him that,” you desperately plea with him.

as you watch him shake his head at you, you feel your bottom lip start to quiver. looking up at him once more you try to plea once again.

“i’m not going to tell him because you are,” shotaro says, sending you a warm smile as he takes out his phone to text sohee.

“i’m going to text sohee and tell him i’m coming over so he’ll know to expect someone over,” shotaro tells you as he finishes typing on his phone. “but instead of it being me, it’ll be you.”

shaking your head at his words, you couldn’t help but let tears spill. desperately running to whichever one of your friends was closest to you for emotional support.

“oof,” wonbin softly says, taken back at the sudden contact. quickly snapping out of it, he brings his hands to your frame to hug you back.

“he’s going to get a restraining order,” you sob, hiding your head on his chest.

hearing your words, eunseok annoyingly turns to anton as he brings a hand to slap the back of his head. “you fucking see what you did?”

“baby, he’s not going to get a restraining order,” wonbin lightly laughs to try and reassure you. “do you know how silly that sounds?”

“sohee told anton,” you mumble, hugging wonbin tighter to try and calm yourself down.

angrily turning to look at your younger brother, it’s sungchan’s turn to slap the back of anton’s head. “you fucking see?”

“ow— it was a fucking joke!” anton whispers back.

“he’s not going to get a restraining order, i promise,” shotaro states, side eyeing anton in complete annoyance. “sohee never said that, i swear.”

“i can even show you our texts–” shotaro continues trying as he takes his phone out of his pocket. “he wouldn’t do that.”

“he wants to talk things out, trust me. he’s just hard headed.” the older boy tells you.

“very hard headed,” seunghan mumbles to himself, agreeing with shotaro.

discreetly nodding his head at their words, eunseok slowly makes his way to where you and wonbin were standing.

“move. my turn!” eunseok pushes wonbin off of you and quickly takes over, hugging you gently as he places a quick kiss on the top of your head.

“what the actual fuck is your problem, eunseok!?” wonbin groans, shaking his head at his friend as he dusts himself off.

“what? i’m just trying to be here for my best friend,” eunseok reasons, causing you to let out a small chuckle at their banter.

“okay! now, it’s my turn,” sungchan says, making his way towards you.

smiling at the sight of you no longer crying, anton begins walking towards you as well. “i’m sorry you have a stupid little brother,” he sighs as he sends you a sad smile.

“i got nervous and made a dumb joke,” anton admits to you as he nervously scratches the back of his neck. “i’m also so fucking sorry for the way i spoke to you the other day, you didn’t deserve that all.”

“i don’t know what i was thinking. i was just so angry and instead of taking it out on seunghan– like i should’ve– i took it out on you,” anton sadly states, completely ignoring seunghan reaction at his sudden words. “i-” anton continues once more but stops at the feeling of your arms wrapped around his torso.

“it’s okay toni,” you softly smile up at him.

“not trying to interrupt anything,” shotaro speaks up, taking a step forward as he looks down at his phone “sohee texted back.”

at the sound of sohee’s name, you instantly turn to look back at shotaro. sending you a small smile your way, he nods at you. “go.”

“go get your sohee.”

☁︎ — JUNE 25TH, 2024 12:26 AM

with a shaky breath, you close your eyes to try and calm yourself down before bringing a hand up to ring his doorbell. at the sound of his doorbell ringing you feel your heart hammer against your chest even faster— if that was even possible. now or never, you keep quietly mumbling to yourself as an attempt to calm down.

“taro-” sohee tiredly says as he opens his door. at the sight of you in front of him, sohee does a complete double take and stares at you with wide eyes.

“h-hi,’ you quietly mumble, nervously playing with your hands.

staring back at you, sohee couldn’t help but take notice on how red your eyes were. have you been crying? sohee sadly asks himself. he feels himself wanting to reach out for you to reassure you everything was okay. but instead, he quickly shakes his head at his thoughts, forcing yourself to snap out of it. you’re with seunghan, he reminds himself.

“go home yn,” sohee sighs as he tightly grips on the door handle.

“baby, can we please talk?” you desperately ask, taking a step closer to him.

“don’t-” he closes his eyes to try and calm himself down. “don’t call me that.”

“pretty boy-”

“is this funny to you?” sohee groans out as he steps outside while looking at you with tears in his eyes. “stop teasing me and go home.”

“i’m not-” you try but get interrupted by sohee’s scoff. “sohee, please.”

“yn, what do you want to talk about?” sohee asks, shaking his head at you. “if you wanted seunghan, you could’ve told me, you know?” he sadly states. “i would’ve backed off.”

“i don’t-”

“i heard you and anton talking that day,’ sohee cuts you off, not wanting to hear any of your lies. “god, i’m so fucking stupid.”

“baby, you’re not,” you quickly move towards him to comfort him causing him to take a step back, away from you. sadly looking down at the space between y’all, you try and swallow your tears despite your heart breaking by the second.

“please, go home.” sohee tries again, gesturing you to walk away

“i’m not going anywhere until you listen to me,” you firmly state, shaking your head at him. “bab-”

“don’t call me that!” sohee brokenly stops you. “you lost the privilege to call me that the second you decided you wanted my best friend,” he angrily brings a hand to wipe away his tears.

“i don’t-” you try talking once again but are once again stopped by sohee talking over you.

“i’ve been so fucking in love with and i thought-” sohee gulps. “i thought you were starting to feel the same way too. i thought it was finally mutual.”

“sohee,” you sadly say as you take a step forward to grab his hand. not having it in him to move once again, sohee lets you grab him. letting out a small sniffle, he brings his attention back towards you. at the sight of his tear stained cheeks you feel your heart break all over again.

“d-do you like seunghan?” sohee hesitantly asks as more tears begin to cloud his vision.

“baby, no,” you gently say, as you bring a hand to cup his cheek and wipe away his tears. “i like you.”

“then why did you kiss him?” he sniffles.

“i didn’t kiss him,” you begin, causing sohee to shake his head at your words and take a step back away from your touch.

“baby,” you desperately try to reach out for him. placing both of your hands on his cheeks, you try and get him to look at you. “look at me, please.”

listening to you, sohee hesitantly removes his focus from the ground and makes eye contact with you.

“the thought of you and seunghan together hurts me so fucking much,” sohee admittedly whispers out. shaking your head at his words, you bring a hand down and place it against his, intertwining his fingers with yours. “it hurts— it hurts so much,” he repeatedly mumbles.

“i didn’t kiss seunghan.” you reassure him.

“but, anton said-”

“i didn’t kiss seunghan but anton did walk in on seunghan trying to kiss me,” you hesitantly told him. processing your words, sohee finds himself letting go of your hand and creating distance between you two.

“baby, wait. please listen to me,” you say, catching his hand before it fully slipped away.

“were you gonna kiss him back?” sohee asks, looking down at you with watery eyes.

“no.” you immediately reassure him. “i only ever want to kiss you.”

“have you ever had feelings for seunghan?” sohee sadly asks, still trying to piece together the whole situation. “please don’t lie to me.”

☁︎ — JUNE 25TH, 2024 1:48 AM

sitting down on his bed, you nervously chew on your bottom lip as you wait for sohee to speak up. you were finally able to explain everything and he’s been quietly processing the situation ever since.

“why didn’t you tell me he was pursuing you?” sohee breaks the silence, looking at you with hurt written all over his eyes.

“i didn’t want to hurt you,” you try reasoning with him. “i thought i was protecting you—”

“bab- yn” sohee sighs. “that’s not protecting me, that’s leaving me in the dark.”

“my best friend was going after my girlfriend, don’t you think i would want to know that?” sohee bitterly laughs. “i would’ve loved to know that my girlfriend once had feelings for him too.”

“baby, it was just a tiny crush.” you quickly jump to your defense. “i was in denial—”

“you still should’ve told me,” sohee lets out one last sigh as he brings his hands up to rub his eyes.

“i should’ve,” you nod your head at him and shift your focus down to your hands.

“it’s getting late you should go-”

“that’s it?” you sadly ask, looking at him with wide eyes.

“are we still-”

“we can be friends,” sohee cuts you off, offering you a small smile. “i don’t think we should date.”

“ever?” you quietly ask. “never again?”

“c-can i fix this?” you hesitantly ask. scooting closer to him, you take his hand in yours. “i can fix this, i promise.”

“yn,” sohee mumbles, wiping away your tears with his thumb.

“this was all just a big misunderstanding,” you desperately plea with him.

“pretty girl, you still kept secrets from me,” sohee softly states. “i’m not mad at you,” he reassures you. “we can still talk but as friends— at least just for now.”

“friends,” you defeatedly state, scared that if you continue pushing he might completely pull away from you again.

not being able to help himself, sohee leans forward and places a gentle kiss on your forehead. there’s no denying that he still holds— and will always hold— strong feelings for you but truth be told, he’s terrified to try again. so, he’ll settle for a friendship instead, at least just for now. “friends.”

☁︎ — CLOUD 9

CHAPTER 44 — friends

summary !! after years of constant pining after his best friend’s sister, yn finally takes notice of sohee and sohee swears he’s on cloud 9. or in other words, loser sohee finally gets the girl.

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CLOUD 9 MASTERLIST

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[blacknight1230]

Healing Touches

(Y/n) is suffering from one of the worst migraines they had ever had, but luckily she has two wonderful partners to help her feel better.

poly!Halsin X Reader X Astarion

Everything hurt. Why does everything hurt? That was the first thing you were thinking of when you woke up that morning. The sounds of the birds singing their morning song, the sunlight breaking through the slit in your tent's opening, the reverberating throbbing of your head ... it could only mean one thing. You were suffering from a migraine. You tried to get up to try and find something to help you with your pain, but the slightest movement made a wave of dizziness and nausea to overcome you. Spots danced across your eyes, even when they were closed and your back teeth were even in pain. This is by far the worst migraine you have ever experienced, and you've suffered from quite a lot. This is what I get for not having my medication with me, you thought. Yet another thing you took for granted when you somehow managed to transport yourself from the modern world to the magical and chaotic world of Faerûn. How you did that, you still did not know.

The vertigo you were dealing with made it impossible for you to physically get help. So, you did the only thing possibly in this situation; you used your tadpole to connect with one of your companions. You psychically reached out to one of your nearby companion's tadpole, latching onto the first one your worm felt. You struggled to maintain the connection and formulate proper thoughts to convey your need for help. Before you were able to identify who you were connected with, said connection broke as you lost concentration, your head now pounding even harder. Everything felt numb as blood rushed in your ears and spots danced behind your eyes again.

The opening of your tent flap and sunlight pouring in signalled that someone had entered your informal abode. You sheltered under the layers of your bedroll and hissed at the brightness, not able to see who came to your rescue. "Are you alright, pet? I felt you reach out to me," a sauve cool voice asked. Astarion, you inwardly cooed. The silver haired vampire noticed your aversion to the light, closing the tent flap behind him as he shuffled closer to you. "Darling, please say something," he worried. You peaked an eye over the edge of your bedroll cover, met with the handsome face of your vampiric lover. His usual lustrous saccharine eyes were soft with concern, furrowed brows showing the hidden wrinkles of his forehead. "Migraine," you managed to say, voice coming out raspy and low. The slight movement of your jaw did not help the resounding pain in your back teeth, which in turn made your head worse. "Oh, my sweet little love," he cooed. He reached a hand out and brushed it across the apple of your cheek, the slightest touch of his cold skin providing you with relief. "Let me go get, Halsin. He'll surely know what to do."

"No, stay," you whispered, wanting nothing more than for him to wander his icy hands over your head and neck. Astarion let out a sad chuckled, kneeling over you to place a gentle kiss to your forehead. "I'm sorry, my love. But I'll be right back, I promise." His icy touch left you as he careful made his way outside without letting any light disturb you.

You laid there, in silence and pain, for who knows how long. Time felt slower as the throbbing continued in your skull. Sleep refused to take you under its wings, and there was no way you could sit up and read a book. When the hulking frame of Halsin appeared in your tent's entrance way, you swore it was a godsend.

"Oh, my heart," the druid cooed when he laid eyes on you. "Halsin," you whimpered out. Tears were brimming at the corner of your eyes, but you wouldn't let him see them cascade down your face. "I've got some natural remedies to help you with your pain, my heart. But first you need to tell me where it hurts?" Halsin softly told you, kneeling down beside you. "Everywhere. It hurts everywhere," you told your hulking lover.

Astarion quietly shuffled himself into the privacy of your tent, situating himself to sit on the blanketed ground facing the other side of Halsin. "Darling, you need to be more specific so Halsin can help you? Can you do that for us?" he coached you, taking his hand to gentle rub away the furrowing of your forehead. You audibly let out a sigh of relief at the coldness of his fingers, losing yourself in his touch. "It looks like she enjoys that, Astarion. I suggest you continue while I prepare the appropriate remedies," Halsin cooed.

You just groaned in pleasure as Astarion's lithe fingers continued to massaged away the stress in your forehead muscles. You felt them relax, and in turn you stopped scrunching your eyes shut as the pain slightly lessened. But the back of your head, right where your spine meets your skull, was still throbbing in pain, so you grabbed Astarion's other hand and brought it to the spot. The vampire spawn seemed to understand what you wanted, slowly but firmly rolling the sore tissue under his pale fingertips. A small gasp was brought to your lips and the pounding of your heartbeat in your ears lessened to the point you could now hear Halsin grinding some medical herbs in a mortar and pestle somewhere inside your tent.

Liquid sloshed in a container as Halsin returned to you, having finished what he was doing. "I made you something to help with your migraine. I need you to sit up so you can drink it. Can you do that for me?" he informed. You mumbled out a small yes, struggling to prop yourself up on your elbows. Astarion wrapped an arm around your torso and gently pulled you to lean up against his chest. You placed a chaste kiss on his hand as a thank you. You were able to open your eyes now, though you still squinted due to not being used to the light, still somewhat sensitive to it. But you were able to make out Halsin kneeling beside you with a glass bottle filled with some reddish liquid inside held in his large hand.

"Here you go, my heart. Drink as much as you can," he said as he brought the glass rim up to your lips. You opened your mouth, humming as the first drop of the medicine hit your tongue. Mmm, chamomile, you thought. There was a hit of sweetness to it, as if Halsin added spoon of honey to the mixture., that craffy bear. You hummed in enjoyment at the taste, signalling to Halsin to tilt the bottle some more so you could drink more its contents.

When you almost finished the mixture, Halsin pulled the bottle away. "Not too much, my heart. There will be plenty more for you later," he teased. You mewled as you leaned further into Astarion's chest, eyes starting to feel droopy. Astarion let out a light chuckle at your affections. "I see the herbs are already working. Would you like us to stay with you while you nap, my darling?" he playfully ask. You nodded, looking up into his ruby eyes with a child-like pout on your lips. "Please. I want some cuddles," you pleaded. "Oh, darling, how could we ever say no to a face like that," Astarion cooed, placing two light kisses against your eyelids.

You repositioned yourself so you were laying on your stomach with your head on Astarion's chest. The vampire wrapped his arms around your middle and laid a kiss on your head, before settling himself back onto your sleeping pillow. Your druid partner threw an arm over the both of you as he laid on his side, his muscular chest warming your side while his chin rested lightly on Astarion's white locks. You could feel the tangling of your legs with your partners, a smile making your way to your face. "Sweet dreams, my sweet," Astarion whispered in your ear. "Rest well, my love," Halsin purred, rubbing soothing circles into your back. The scent of your loves and the sound of their rhythmic breathing lulled you back to sleep, the pain that once plagued you moment you woke up long forgotten as you laid within their loving embraces.

[toxycodone]

Chimera!Falin x Reader

an. separated w/ general sfw and nsfw hcs. reader is an adventurer who happens to catch the Red Dragon’s interest….

tw. monster fucking, predator/prey dynamics

sfw.

Now…being a lone adventurer is difficult. Especially in your case. Not only are you prey to almost anything in the dungeon, but you’ve found yourself prey to its most apex predator—The Red Dragon.

Well, at least you think? Oddly enough…for a dragon, it’s very pretty. You don’t remember hearing about it having a human head and torso. With pretty blonde hair and golden eyes…Gods, she’s beautiful…

That’s what you’re thinking in the back of the mind while the Dragon pins you down with one hefty paw. It’s insane how large it is compared to you. One look to the side and you can see the large claw is longer than the length of your head. However, despite this position…it doesn’t hurt, per se. She has enough weigh on you to make you hesitant to breathe too deeply, but, she isn’t killing you….which is odd.

When you finally look to the dragon, you’re shocked to see her so close to your face.

“Not Delgal…” She whispers in a hoarse voice. You don’t know who that is, or why the Dragon or all creatures is looking for this person but…okay. As you brace yourself for what’s next, the Dragon grasps your face in her human ones. They’re soft and plush.

She brings her face to yours and licks a long stipe up it with her forked tongue, cleaning off some semi-dried blood of your companions. Her breath smells slightly coppery as she does so.

“Still good.” She nuzzles into your face, her feathers tickling your skin.

It's fucking weird. And you're not sure if you hate it or you love it. But hey...at least you're alive?

Since then, you've basically become the Dragon's little pet. She doesn't speak much, and you figure it must have something to do with her being some sort of chimera monstrosity, but she at least has the decency to introduce herself to you as Falin.

You also get confronted by Thistle...you thought the elf might help you. But no. He just sighs when he sees Falin drag you along with her. If it makes her happy, he's not arguing against it. Sorry. You're trapped.

But at least Falin is a good caretaker. She watches over you like a hawk. A big, scary, red dragony hawk. Even if you're just sitting around, enjoying the scenery...she just stares. with that disgustingly cute little smile of hers.

When the two of you travel together, she likes it when you ride on her back, but she also stores you in her thick plumage on the front of her body too. Her favorite is to carry you in her own human arms and walk around with you like you're some sort of stuffed animal. It's...kinda adorable. Maybe more cute if you weren't lowkey kidnapped.

If any adventurers dare harm you...it's over for them. You learned quickly to either look away or hide somewhere, because Falgon shows no mercy. As cute and sweet as she can be, she's equally deadly.

And you don't hide very far away...escaping is futile. Plus it becomes a fun game for her. It's literal cat and mouse. She can smell you. Sense you. It doesn't matter. She'll crush walls and buildings to get to you.

And if you run, it makes it worse. She'll catch you like a bug, her scaly front feet cage you in as she pounces on you. Then she just...dangles you and plays with you like a mouse.

She feels bad afterwards. It's hard for Falin to know her own strength in this form. She often accidentally scratches or bruises you. To make up for it, she'll sing a little lullaby and use her healing magic on you. It always lulls you into the most restful slumber you've had, no matter how much pain you're in or how scared you are.

After a little time, things do become oddly? Domestic?

Falin bathes you as often as possible. She likes to help get you clean as a bonding activity. She's really gentle and calm in these moments--the two of you just bathing in a nice dungeon waterfall or somewhere in the golden kingdom.

In return, you help her preen! You gently pick out pin feathers and brush off feather dust while she trills in happiness and coos at you. It's probably one of your favorite things to do as she just hums sweetly and lets you do it. She also likes it when you do her hair (adventurers are definitely left wondering why the Red Dragon has braids or double buns)

She also forages and hunts for you. Little berries? Snack for you! Is there a nice fruit tree on the floor you're exploring? She's hopping up there and picking you enough to eat all day.

Falin also uh. will hunt. After you scold her for dropping a giant monster carcass on you she learns not to do it again but hey? it was kinda funny. From then on she only brings you things she knows you can cook

And as typical...she has a nest. It's not anything crazy, but it's a cozy little thing made of foilage, her feathers, and other soft materials she found in the dungeon. When it's time to go to bed, she lets you lay down first and cuddles around you like a cat. Or she'll let you lay on her and cozy into her feathers. Her soft down feels like a cloud and you just sink in <3 it's adorable.

nsfw.

I'M ON TEAM FALIN CHIMERA DICK.

Since you're her prized treasure...her everything...naturally she views you as her mate.

That means, she gets into ruts. It's only natural for her to want to breed with you, right? Plus, she likes to make you feel good.

However...she is WAY too big to even begin to think to fit inside you. You could probably fucking grapple her if you wanted to. So sex between the two of you is pretty...interesting.

When she trills, the vibrations are intense. If you're sitting on her front and preening her, it's extremely difficult for you to keep your composure while you're doing this. She knows it, and does it on purpose. The vibrations run from her chest, to your thighs and up your spine. Eventually, a simple preening turns to you desperately humping her chest while she just smiles and watches you.

One of her favorite things to do though is hold you in one paw and give you oral. You're distended in the air, held tight by her claws. Then you feel her soft, warm human hands spread your thighs open and lap at you. It's enthralling to knows this creature that could easily snap you in half could just. Do that. And she makes the sweetest little moans and hums while she tastes you. You almost forget she's a chimera with the soul of a literal dragon.

You can fuck yourself on one of her claws or the tip of her tail. She'll round out a claw (just in case, Falin doesn't wanna hurt you) so you can ride it like a dildo and see how much you can take. Same with the tip of her tail. Falin just lays down and moves it in and out, slowly but surely stretching you out while you cry out. Her face is almost as red as her body while she watches you do this with hungry eyes.

Even though it's impossible to fit her cock inside you, goddamnit, you try. You can barely even get 3/4 of the head in, but it's cute to watch your tiny body give it an attempt. Awww, you're that desperate for her? Cute. When she gets too pent up from all the teasing, though, Falin just grasps you with her claws and slides you up and down her length. Grinding against her is heavenly. It coats your body in slick and your own cum and eventually....hers. She cums enough that you need a bath afterwards. But if you don't have time, she'll happily lick you clean. (And spend extra time between your thighs, making you cum again on her face)

And she is...a biter. She can't help it. You're her mate. Falin sinks her teeth into the soft flesh of your thighs, your ass, and your shoulders the most. She loves the taste of your blood, the primal part of her desires it, and she likes seeing the marks on you. It's insanely sexy for her to know SHE did that. And its a sign that she owns you. <3

[flamingpudding]

I had a crack idea that I was thinking of so you know in Dan is Klarion au I was imagining a au based off of that one where all of Danny's children are Klarion is like the robin thing for Batman it started off with Danielle when nabu insulted Danny as the Ghost King and Balance

Ever since Ellie decided that she needed to get back in blood so she made the chaotic antihero Klarion and and her suppose it familiar 'cat' Teekl the way to help out her mother and mess with Dr Fate/Nabu Teekl is actually a bear with an illusion on that makes him look like a cat in the human's eyes

Whatever since the anti-hero Klarion in The Phantom family has been passed down each of them giving their own flair to the persona of Klarion with a different animal every time that they had pretending to be a cat

Tell her to finally passed on to Dan it is an honorary sibling thing each of them has their own antihero name once they passed down the title of Klarion

Diana's query and takes after his father's style of dressing and his tickle is a phoenix

First of Thanks for the Ask! Inspirational as always! Helps with my writers block [insert awkward laugh]

Either way because this is split in two asks... you get two version! One focused on how it started and the other on the reveal! Though the might be some little Shorts... Also there is something really funny to me about a giant bear letting Illusionen into a cat... So Enjoy!

(BTW still thinking over the other ask... and working on it don't worry!)

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

Ellie huffed as Danny reprimanded her for her actions. She just huffed crossing her arms. She was just helping Danny. Her mom got a lot on his shoulders and she as the sort of oldest saw that the best. Sure technically Dan was older then her but, he shrunk down to kid level again and now she was the oldest.

Well if she ignored her other brothers but they were only saved recently and still in treatment with Frostbite. So she was the oldest. End of story.

"Ellie you can't just go off like that you know that messing with an Ancient is not-"

"Mom, That Nabu-Guy was being a pain in the a- " - "Ellie!" - "A PAIN, babbling on to much about Order here Order there. How keeping Balance means keeping Order and bla bla bla!" She cut in stopping her mom before he could go on another rant about the Ancients, she needed to treat with respect.

"He doesn't respect you, the Ancient of Balance! You are the literal Symbol of Balance between Life and Death! Aside from being the Ghost King. So of course I had to mess with the one HE mentors!" Ellie added huffing as she crossed her arms.

Danny pinched the bridge of his nose. "Ellie, you created an entire alternate persona!"

"Yea so?"

"You used an illusion spell on Fluffels!"

"And? Any good Anit-Hero needs a Mascot." Ellie shrugged once more looking up at her mom before looking over to Fluffels, her pet ghost grizzly that was pretty much double maybe even tripple her size and the fluffiest ghost grizzly you could find in the entire Ghost Zone, and the cutest.

Danny on the other hand groaned, wondering if he had done anything wrong while raising Danielle. Sure he had been a teen himself but good damit why the hell did Ellie decided messing with the Ancient of Order or rather his mentee was a good idea. "I am calling Jazz! You can explain to her what you were thinking!"

He was definitely to overworked and stressed to deal with Ellies mischievousness right now. Well she did call her alternate persona Klarion, Lord of Chaos. Nope! He was not dealing with this right now, so Danny did the sanest thing he could think of. Turning on his heel and walking away. Where to? Who cares maybe he would check in with his old man Clockwork and see what Ellie had actually been up to, instead of just reading through Nabu's complains.

Ellie on the other hand blinked watching her mom leave before calling after him. "Does that mean I have to stop, being Klarion?"

"Mom?!"

"MOM!"

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

"Well hello my lovely Amadillos! Long time not seen!"

Ellie shouted cheerfully as she twirled into appearing hair styled into a horn like form, black suit and she might have over done it a little with the black eyeliner but hey it was an iconic look wasn't it. She smirked as Fluffles growled which translated into a meow for the mortals before her thank to the illusion spell.

The mortal teen looked up at her surprised as she floated down her hand glowing with red ectoplasm (a color change from her usual green ectoplasm that had taken a while to learn from Pandora). Young Justice was currently transporting something of interest to her. Well of Interest for the Justice League, really but Doctor Fate was involved which meant Nabu was involved, which naturally meant she would get involved. It didn't hurt that she would also get to try to try some new tricks.

"You got something interesting there... and I want that." She grinned. Ellie didn't give them long before she acted using the new tricks she had learned.

"Woah! Hey there, watch the pointy and sharp thowies!" She laughed making a quick shield as she blocked some batarangs and arrows before blinking.

"Hey they look different. Robin, did you change equipment? Did you get a new haircut too?" She asked curious but didn't really receive an answer as they ignored her questions and shouted something about distracting her while the others continue the transportation. Still she bend down to pick one of them up twirling it between her fingers. "What gives didn't they have a different design before?"

In hindsight it was probably not a good idea to just abandon her original goal but Robin was making her curious. And she could always find a different way to mess with Nabu. Her mom had given her an indirect okay years ago anyway.

"Teekl!" She called out and only her eyes could see how Fluffles jumped at the call growling in response as he swatted away some of the more annoying Young Justice kids. To the mortals it probably looked like Teekl was using ectoplasm, or well magic, in their eyes.

She used that change to go up into Robins face smirking widely as she looked at the other more closely, trying to get a read on him. "You are different! You aren't the same Robin I meet before!"

She ducked in time avoid Superboy as she hopped back excited with a new idea for her family.

But first she would have to deal with the little chaos and mischief she was creating.

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

".....and that is how I learned that the Robin title is getting passed down. So I was thinking of doing the same!" Ellie broadly stated looking at all her younger siblings before her. "We all get pretty annoyed with the way Nabu treats Mom so there always has to be a Lord of Chaos to 'balance' Nabu out!"

She grinned at her siblings expecting the same kind of excitement she had and they didn't disappoint. Danny had been there for all of them, even going so far as in to find a way with Clockwork to save some of their lives. So of course they all would jump at the change to mess with the one Ancient that was badmouthing their Mother just because Balance didn't entitle Order the way they wanted.

After all Chaos was needed to Balance Order out.

This was going to be fun...

[Follow up part Linked here]

[being-worthy]

Venom & Eddie Brock headcanons - Part II

I know I said that all my writing was on hiatus, but the job search is not going well and I want to avoid falling deeper into my desperation/depression...

I had this interview for a really cool role, but they offered $15/h and not only is the rate unfair compared to the work they ask you to do, but the platform also takes a huge cut from it and after they take their cut, I'm left like with $10 and it's way under what I'm comfortable working for. When I see shit like this, I ask myself 'Why did we bother with abolishing slavery, if, now, in every job, they want you to work for a salary that was okay back in the 1850s when nothing is affordable with such salary?'

So, here's part 2 of my Venom & Eddie headcanons (part 1 can be found here). Comments and reblogs would be highly appreciated!!

Please help me with my goal on my Ko-fi! 💕

Image found on Google. Credits to the creator Dreaming_Oor.

It took a while for you guys to get together, mostly because you were pushing them away, not because you didn’t feel something for them, but because you didn’t think you were good enough for them.

“What do you mean you’re not good enough for us? If someone is not good enough for you, it’s Eddie.” “Venom is right. Wait, what did you just say?!”, Eddie rebutted in offence. “Face it, Eddie, out of the two of us, you’re the bigger loser. I’m still cooler than you and she’s cooler than both of us together and more than enough for us," Venom answered smirking.

Once things got serious between you guys, and after many sweet, sometimes weird dates, you guys moved in together.

Their pet names or names you call each other:

How Eddie calls you: baby, babe, sweetheart, love.

How Venom calls: morsel, little one, nibble, sweetling.

How you call them: love, handsome, V, Ed, Eds, Edward (if he messed up), Edward "Eddie" Charles Allan Brock (if he messed up big big time!)

How Venom calls Eddie: Eddie, loser, love.

How Eddie calls Venom: Venom, love, parasite (he avoids this as much as possible because Venom breaks his nose when he calls him this and fixes it afterwards, only to break it again).

There was an adaption period for all three of you and getting to know the ins and outs of each of you and your relationship.

Both Eddie and V love to cuddle with you, it’s one of their favourite things to do with you.

They both like to be the big spoon with their backs towards the door because if some dangers comes through it, you'll be protected no matter what.

If they're having a bad day, they also love you being the big spoon because it makes them feel extra loved and safe, and you are their safe haven.

V’s favourite place to cuddle you is laying his head close to your neck (he sometimes will softly nibble at it). He also particularly loves to lay his head between your boobs. This leads to him and Eddie arguing as it’s Eddie’s favourite spot as well. He’d argue that he was there first, leaving you to devise a compromise for them. If Eddie doesn’t get to cuddle your boobs, he’ll be grumpy and pouting all day, but you always make it up to him.

V especially likes it when you pet him, he’ll end up sounding like a purring machine, although he’ll reiterate in all seriousness that he’s not a pet and does NOT purr as he's the Lethal Protector!

This also means they like to join you whenever you take a nap. For example, if they come home and see you napping, they’ll join you, or if you tell them you’re going to lay down, they’ll join you, you ask them if they want to nap with you, they’ll join you no matter what, even if V doesn’t require sleep.

You always always will wake up with some of V’s tendrils on and around you making sure you’re close to each other. It’s heaven during a scorching summer or a freezing winter as V can regulate Eddie’s body temperature accordingly and you’ll always have a deep comforting sleep thanks to this ability of his.

There are times when Eddie has to work because he’s got a deadline for an article and he’d like nothing more than to join and hug you close to them, but he likes his job and you love him for that and completely understand it. However, this leads to him and V arguing, as V wants to snuggle you and thinks work is dumb.

On the other hand, there are also times when they wake you up with their bickering and you just tell them to either join you or to take it outside and not come back until they’ve made up. This ends with them joining you 9 out of 10 times. Eddie will end up asking for an extension for whatever deadline he’s got.

The one time when V doesn’t get his way, he’ll curse Eddie to infinity and beyond and even go as far as detach himself from Eddie and make his way to you. Once he’s almost completely attached to you, he’ll stick out his tongue at Eddie blow raspberries his way and join you in the arms of Morpheus.

To be continued...

Comments and reblogs are always appreciated! Do not copy or translate my work plz!

💫 My Ko-fi page

[channieskies]

Pairing: Lee Know Reader (Fem) Bang Chan

Summary: Your joke turns into you and your boyfriends gift to his good friend for his birthday.

WC: 3920 {Reading Time: 16 Min}

♱‧₊˚. Kinktober: Day 25, [Bondage, Choking, Oral Fixation, Threesome/Multiple Partners]

Genre: Smut, PWP

Nets: @neverendingdreams-net & @mirohs-aurora-society

Warning(s): Dom/Sub Dynamics, Threesome, Vagial penetration, Oral, Anal Play and penetration, gagging, BDSM, Unprotected sex (This is a work of fiction, please protect yourself in real life), Vaginal and anal creampie, Cum swallowing, Pet names (Baby, Dirty Little Slut, Dirty Girl), Please let me know if I missed any!

Authors Note: Happy Birthday to our lovely Cat Daddy, Lee Know. I originally started writing this (last year) for a joint birthday project, but never released it. Even though it's the last hours of his birthday, I still wanted to post this. It's also Kinktober, so why not join the festivities with a very filth filled fic? This has not been beta read or thoroughly proofread. I hope you all enjoy this!! Thanks to @saradika-graphics for the dividers.

Disclaimer: This story does not reflect the real lives or personalities of Stray Kids. I do not know them personally. This is purely a work of fiction.

You exhaled deeply, your main focus was on not choking on your own saliva. You were bound and gagged, laying on the expensive rug of your boyfriend's downtown apartment. The panoramic view of the city was your backdrop to the filthy scene that was playing out, with you as the main character. Guess you could say you were in a festive mood, all things considered. You honestly looked like a turkey with the way your legs were tied. Bent at the knee and tied in two places, once at the ankles and once at the thighs to prevent you from moving your legs in any way your boyfriend didn't like. 

There was a spreader bar attached to the ropes that kept your legs open, your pussy on full display for anyone to watch. Even the people in the high-rise across the street would be able to see any and everything they wanted if their hearts so desired. Your hands were cuffed with the same material your legs were and were connected to the bar that kept your feet apart. You also had a nice ball gag in your mouth, because why the fuck not at this point? You were stuck, but the longer you sat like this, under the careful watch of your significant other and his friend, the more you liked it.

“And you were really up for this? For me to.. fuck her too?” Your boyfriend nodded at the other man's question. 

“She wanted this to be your birthday present.” He sighed, “I normally would object, since I don't like to share, but just look at how she looks.” He stuffed a hand in his pocket as he took in your appearance. 

“She almost looks like she should be the centerpiece on a table, no?” His friend chuckled.

Chris took his bottom lip between his teeth and chewed on it. “You ready baby?” You whimpered and nodded. You were wet and exposed, but thankfully the fire that burned nearby kept her warm and toasty. “You can start, Minho. I kinda want to watch.” Minho was thankful to his hyung for inviting him into his home like this, presenting him with such a beautiful and pliant present. He wasn't one to pass up a good time when one was offered so generously. He stepped closer, his slippers mere inches from where you lay. 

“I heard you've been thinking about this for a while now. Such a dirty little whore, lusting after another man's cock.” He kneeled right next to you and pulled up a little by your neck. “I hope you enjoy all that's coming to you.”

This had honestly started off as a joke. You really didn’t think he would take you seriously when you said it. It was a joke. A bad joke, but a joke nonetheless. You were just going to get a cute cat tower for Minho’s birthday, one he had mentioned he wanted in passing. He was your boyfriend's friend, so anything too extravagant looked a little weird on your end. So when he asked, you jokingly said, “How about I give him some head for his birthday?” You hid your joking smile behind the wine glass you had in hand. But when he seemed to really be thinking about it, you almost told him you were joking until he answered. 

“Okay. I think that would make his birthday. He deserves it after the year he’s had.” You were in shock, your wine almost choking you as you took a sip. It took more than a moment to compose yourself after his unexpected answer. 

“Wait- are you serious right now?” He nodded, “You really want me to give him head? Minho?” You could admit that there was something about Minho that really made you curious as to how he would fuck. You'd heard the rumors about how talented he was with his hips, and it went without mentioning just how much damage that silver tongue of his could do. You'd even had a friend that told you of a girl passing out from the sheer pleasure she felt while fucking him. But head was head and you truthfully shouldn’t be thinking of anything deeper than that. He’s your boyfriend's friend after all.

“Just head? Are you sure?” His lips curled into a smile as he looked at you from the other end of the couch. “Because… we could make this a full blown threesome and make his year.” Just the look he gave you, sent chills up her spine. You’d never seen your boyfriend in this light. He was usually very selfish with your time with him. That was in no way a bad thing, you loved it actually. Due to his line of work, you couldn’t see him as often as you’d like. So his monopolization of your time was seen as sweet and not an act of pure control.

“Huh?” You were unsure. “Threesome? Chris… I was jus-” He cut you off, pulling out his phone.

“I'll contact him.” And that's how You ended up like this, laying in the living room like a stuffed Thanksgiving turkey.

Minho didn't bother unbuckling his belt, he just unzipped his trousers and reached his hand in, pulling his member out of the hole in his boxers and through the unzipped opening in his pants. 

“You said she's good with her mouth, right?” Chris smirked proudly as he took a seat on the sofa, legs spread wide.

“Yes. She actually gets pleasure from it. She aims to please.” He leaned back, getting comfortable, so he could enjoy the show.

“You really have no idea just what He says about you in the group chat, do you?” He kneeled next to your head, taking care not to sit on your hair. “All the little nasty things he's said you've done. All the photos he sends us to make us jealous. And now I get to have my turn.” He gently moved your hair from your face, before unbuckling the gag that your boyfriend so lovingly put in your mouth.

Your lips were swollen, mouth tired from being wrapped around the toy ball for quite some time.

“There's that pretty little mouth.” He tossed the gag somewhere behind him, having no use for it now. His thumb traced your lips, smearing the saliva that had settled from the gag.“That pretty little mouth he loves to show off wrapped around his cock.” 

Chris had your permission to show off pictures to his friends. Most of them were faceless anyway, they could imagine anyone they wanted to, it didn't have to be you. He slipped his thumb into your mouth, watching carefully as you sucked the digit. You kept your eyes on him, feeling almost like you were incapable of looking away.

There was a fire that burned in his eyes, one that told you he wanted to do unspeakable things to you.  “Open that pretty little mouth for me.” You did as told, without an ounce of hesitancy. You stuck your tongue out to accept whatever it was he was going to offer next. He slipped his thumb out and quickly replaced it with his cock. 

Minho was longer than you expected. His girth slid into your wet mouth, inch by inch. He placed a caring hand on your cheek as he started down at you, watching you take him in. He paused halfway, head tipping back with a loud groan passing his lips. “Fuck… I se-see why you always show off how well she takes you.” His head tipped forward again. “Her mouth feels amazing.” 

Chris chuckled from the couch. “Yeah, well wait until you feel her tight cunt.” His words made you clench around nothing. You really weren't expecting to get this far, let alone far enough for him to actually fuck you.

Minho started to pull back, before thrusting slowly back into your mouth. His eyes traveled down your body to your glistening folds, the crackling fire adding just the right amount of light to illuminate it. He had the perfect view of it in the strange mirror Chris had set up in the middle of the living room. Just the thought of finally getting to fuck you, made him want to blow his load. 

He'd been curious about you since the first time his hyung introduced you to him. He could honestly detail every second of that moment without missing a step. From the thigh length, form fitting, black dress you wore. To how you smelled like vanilla, tuberose, with a light hint of arousal tied right into what he could recall as being the most sensual scent he's ever had the pleasure of inhaling. 

Even to the smallest detail of the hickey on your neck from what he would assume to be a quick, yet steamy makeout session with Chris before you both entered the restaurant. He couldn't blame the man, you were drop dead gorgeous. He had to applaud him for even making it into the building at all. Because If he was given the chance, he would have fucked you in the parking lot while all his friends waited for his arrival. Nothing wrong with being fashionably late to your own birthday party. 

One particularly hard thrust and the sound of you gagging pulled him back into the room. Your wet mouth had sent him into a daydream, he could see how easy it would be just to drift off until he'd come crashing back down to earth with a soul crushing orgasm. He pulled back, taking his member in his hand, rubbing the tip against your lips in an attempt to ground himself in the moment. He'd seem like a bitch if he came less than five minutes in. 

But you were relentless, even with just him tracing your lips with his tip, you still took the initiative to slot his member between your lips, sucking the underside of it as best you could, given the fact that you were completely bound. 

“She isn't made of glass, you know? I guarantee you she's thinking that right now. She doesn't like being treated like she's fragile. Trust me, she tells me that all the time.” Chris mumbled the last part, but Minho still heard him loud and clear. His eyes met yours and you nodded. Neither of you knew he was taking his time for his own sanity. He resigned himself, taking in a deep breath, then exhaling. He grabbed a fistful of your hair with one hand and led his cock back into your mouth with the other.

He'd have to fuck your mouth like he'd wanted to do all these months. Liked he'd imagine he was doing every time he fucked his fist to the pictures his hyung sent. He'd tried not to fap to them at first, but what else were these benevolent gifts for if not for high quality spank bank material? With a tight grip on your hair he resumed thrusting. Letting you get adjusted, before slamming his cock into your mouth like you clearly wanted him to. It was something about the way you hollow your cheeks. Something in the way you glide your tongue on the underside of his stiff cock. Something in the way your moans sound for him as he fucks your throat. 

If mere pictures could make him unravel, what would happen now that he got to feel you? You constricted your throat, making him groan, causing his hips to stutter. “Fuck…” You kept doing with every other deep trust, making him spiral. Minho came undone, his seed slipping down your throat, despite his best efforts not to cum too soon. He let out a guttural moan, grip on your hair tightening as he came hard. You continued to suck, not wanting a drop to go to waste. “Sto-stop, stop.” He had to pull away, if not, he'd risk overestimation. With the prospect of being able to fuck you he couldn't risk that. 

“Now you know why I always show off, yeah?” Minho felt like he'd gone deaf in one ear and blind on the same side, because he didn't hear or see Chris get up, nor did his words register until after he'd gotten to his side. All he could do was nod, his brain wasn't functioning at a high enough level to form a response. “Scoot. It's my turn.” Minho obliged, crawling a few paces away to give his friend room. Only then did he notice his friend had undressed. It felt like maybe he'd blacked out for a moment, that was the only way he could explain the unexplained time jump after he'd nut.

“You doing okay, pretty girl?” Chris gently wiped a tear that had fallen from your eye. You nodded. You were more than okay. How many other girls could say they were lucky enough to participate in a threesome with their boyfriend and his very handsome friend? Probably not many. You were soaked and ready to have more than just your mouth fucked. “Good. Because I want your best, yeah? You know how I like it.”

He knew you knew exactly what he liked and you were more than happy to indulge him. It was Chris's turn to kneel next to your head. He was even closer than Minho, practically straddling your neck. He bypassed his dick entirely and grabbed his balls, fisting the sack. “Open wide for me baby.” The words barely left his lips and you eagerly did as told, opening your mouth as wide as you could.

Minho waited with bated breath, to finally get a chance to see just how well you took his friend. Pictures, as he'd recently found out, don't do you justice. While they were beyond hot, to feel you for himself took things to a whole different level. Chris was already hard. He wouldn't admit it, but seeing you like this did something to him that he couldn't quite explain. Now, he wasn't saying that the situation would ever happen again, but he could say he was enjoying himself.

You took His balls into your mouth, sucking on the skin as he stroked his length. “You're so fucking good, baby.” He tipped his head back. The combination of your mouth on his balls and his skilled hands working on his own length was euphoric. Minho watched on, in awe of just how well you worked together. You knew your boyfriend well and even without you being able to touch him, you could still lend a hand in pleasing him.

He noticed how you clenched around nothing, wetness already dripping from your untouched cunt. His eyes finally focused on the plug that sat snugly in your ass. Your wetness had dripped over the shiny heart-shaped diamond. God, how he wanted to taste you. Your wetness tempted him, begging him to come closer. He didn't even realize he'd moved until he was face to face with your pussy. He took a tentative lick, unsure if he was even allowed to do it. You moaned, squirming underneath him, alerting Chris to what was happening between your legs. He looked back, an amused smirk on his face.

“Just couldn’t resist, hmm?” He chuckled as Minho glanced up at him, mouth busy between your folds. You could feel him smirk against you, too occupied to answer your boyfriend's question. He went back to work, getting the confirmation he needed from both you and Chris. Was this your birthday or his? Because this was some extreme wish fulfillment here. Your boyfriend's balls in your mouth and a handsome man enjoying his birthday gift between your legs. What more could a girl ask for? 

Clearly you could ask for more. Chris leaned back, pulling his balls from your mouth, just to replace it with his thick cock. You clenched again as you gagged, much to both Chris and Minho’s delight. You pushed even more wetness on the man between your legs’ tongue, making him groan. How could Chris not talk about how good you tasted? How sweet your pussy was to devour? He dove in even more. He wasn’t afraid of drawing, even if he couldn’t swim. His moans and smacks are what alerted your boyfriend as to why you were shaking, why tears were pricking your eyes. He smiled to himself. Glad you were getting pleasure out of this for yourself. While he loved to use you, he didn’t want you to feel used. 

Your hands were balled into fists. This was almost too much for you to take. Your mouth was full, your ass plugged, Minho had just stuffed two fingers inside of you, all while he mercilessly toyed and sucked on your clit. Your legs were shaking, you couldn’t help it. What was a girl like you to do? Chris pushed his dick in as far as it could go. Reaching between his legs, thumb on your throat to constrict your breathing. Your body tensed. This was it. This was how you reached heaven. Your vision blurred, tears beginning to stream down your face as you came. He pulled his cock out of your mouth, allowing you a little room to breathe. Thick strings of saliva connected you to his member as you choked out a long wonton moan.

You couldn’t see the satisfied look on your boyfriend's face, but you knew it was there. Meanwhile, Minho happily ate to his content. He had tuned out anything but the soft cackling of the fire and your moans. He wanted to make you feel good. He knew this was the one and only time he’d get to do so, Chris had told him as much when he gave him the rundown for the night's events. So Minho wasn’t going to take this opportunity lightly. With your clit still in his mouth, he added another finger to your cunt, totalling them to three. He searched for the squishy little pad inside of you, pressing up on it, dragging his fingers back and forth on it. Luckily for him, you couldn’t move, because you seemed like you wanted to run, as overstimulation started to take over. You cried out, unable to do much else. 

“What's he doing to you baby?” Chris asked smugly, index and thumb grabbing your chin, lifting you. He forced you to look at what the birthday boy was doing between your legs. You almost came from the sigh alone. His face was smeared with your essence, eyes completely dark with lust, fingers stretching you out as he continuously hammered your g-spot. Your second climax hit you without warning. Your squirt forcefully being pulled from you, painting the man's face and fingers between your legs. You let out a scream that reverberates off the dark walls of the apartment. Thankfully you knew that the walls were well insulated and the neighbors wouldn’t be calling the cops to file a noise complaint. “Look at that…” Chris almost looked proud at the mess you’d made. “You’re spoiling my baby, Minho.” 

The man groaned against you, still licking up all of your juices, determined not to leave a trace behind. You were intoxicating. Minho was absolutely enamored with you. From the fucked out look that graced your face to the taste, smell, and aura of you. He could shamelessly say that the little crush he harbored for you, might be developing into something more. But he couldn’t think of that now. What would his hyung say if he ever found out his feelings? He pulled back, pushing thoughts of wanting you for his own, out of his head. “You ready, baby?” Chris ran a loving hand down the center of your chest, under your tied arms and over your stomach.

“Since it’s Minho’s special day, I’ll let him decide if he wants your tight little ass or cunt. Okay?” You nodded with wide sparkling eyes. Any bit of tiredness was washed away with the prospect of being fully stretched by two men. That made Minho painfully hard. He groaned as he sat on his knees, fingers finding their way to his member, tugging it to feel a bit of relief as he thought about what he wanted. If he was being truthful with himself, he’d admit he wanted to be shellfish and have you all to himself. But he couldn’t do that, not here. Not when his friend was so nice to share you with him. “What do you say, Minho?”

“Pussy.” There was a hint of desperation in his voice. He needed this. He needed to feel you wrapped around him.

“Pussy it is, then.” Chris undid your restraints, your hands going to each of your wrist to rub where the fabric had left behind little marks. Something to remember the beginning of the night by, at least until they faded. Chris stood and being the gentleman he was, helped you up to your feet. He made sure you were steady as he led you to the couch. First he had you bend over, legs spread, so that he could carefully remove the plug from your ass. But not without toying with it first, pulling it in and out, making sure your hole was nice and stretched for him. Next was the application of lube to both of your holes and his member. “Here,” motioned the bottle towards Minho, who was forced to peel his eyes away from the sight between your legs to take it. 

Chris was the first to lie down on the couch, leading you to lie with your back to his chest. Deft fingers, led his member to your waiting ass hole, and he expertly guided it in. Your head rolled back onto Chris’s shoulder as he filled you up, pushing you down slowly on him, making you take him inch by inch. Minho stood there, just watching as your face morphed into one of pure ecstasy. He was still tugging on his length, readying himself for you. Chris waved him over, letting him know it was his turn to slide in, and he honestly couldn’t wait. Despite not wanting to come off as too eager.

He swallowed the lump of spit that settled in his throat as soon as he kneeled on the couch between your legs. You were spread wide, lubed up, ass stuffed full of cock, while your pussy waited to be filled by him. Only him. He was still gripping the lube in his hand and used a bit more of it on himself before tossing it and lining his member up with your entrance. He slid the tips back and forth through your folds, making you jerk and squeeze your boyfriend. Chris’ grip on your thighs tightened, spreading you even wider. The sight made Minho dizzy. “Please…” The whine that fell from your lips nearly drained the man of his life force. “Please Minho…” You reached a hand between your legs, spreading your lips even more for him. 

He nearly crumbled. He wasted no time, sliding in, feeling your warmth envelope him. His eyes rolled back in the back of his head. This had to be the best feeling in the world. You were warm and tight, made even tighter by your boyfriend stuffing your ass. He took a moment to savor the feeling, before he started moving. That was Chris’ cue to do the same. You bit the back of your hand, to keep yourself from screaming. The feeling was indescribable.The initial pain subsided so quickly it scared you. Chris moved your hand. “Let us hear you, baby.” He dragged his nose along the column of your neck and pressed a kiss under your ear. “Let us know you feel good.”

You nodded, eyes focusing on the man in front of you. His eyes completely focused on where you were connected. Fixated on the way your walls pulled him back in every time he pulled back. The lube slowly mixes with your cream, and the sight would be one he’d remember for the rest of his life. What other birthday was like this? Has there ever been a gift given to him that was better? Nothing could top this. Well- unless he got to do this every year. He picked up his pace, loving the grip you had on him. Your eyes closed, mouth agape, but only long enough for fingers to be stuffed inside it. You felt spit coat your clit, causing your eyes to flutter open in time to see Minho rubbing it fervently. He wanted this to be a mind blowing experience for you too.

Your hand flew to his wrist, almost ready to pry it away. But the pleading look in his eyes made you pause. He angled his hips in just the right way, the tip of his member brushing against your spot, making your toes curl. Tears once again brimmed your eyes, the feeling of both men fucking you open was almost too much to take but at the same time you wanted more. Wanted to give them as much pleasure as they were giving you. You squeezed your walls, tightening around both of them. Chris’ hand that was still holding your thigh, moved to your neck, squeezing it in retaliation. Minho picked up his pace, fucking into you faster, using his years of dance training to further impress you. A few more flicks of his fingers against your clit had you coming undone. Shaking wildly between the two men. 

But that didn’t stop their thrusts, if anything that encouraged them to keep going, extending your hard orgasm. Minho did at least give your clit a break, reaching for your nipples, to pinch and pull on both. You let out a choked sob, feeling on the edge of hysteria. Chris' hand relaxed around your throat, the fingers he had in your mouth stroked your tongue. His hips gave a few more thrusts up into you before he unloaded right in your ass. You grabbed at his hand, nails, digging into the skin of his wrist. You could feel his seed seeping out of you as he stilled. He softly ran his fingers over your sweat slicked stomach, soothingly.

Minho was still going. He leaned in, kissing the parts of you he was allowed to. Your lips were off limits, but that didn’t mean he couldn’t get close. He littered your jaw with kisses and bites, then did the same to your neck and chest. Once again he was like a man starved, needing to consume every last bit of you. He left marks all over your skin. Hoping that you would cherish the small amount of time you could share together, because this was certainly going to be burned into his brain. This was now going to be a part of his personality, something deeply embedded into his psyche.

The way you were looking at him, like he had the power to unmake you at this very moment was making his head spin. “Minho…fill me up… please…” You reached a hand out, fingers brushing over his cheek as you looked him in his eyes. This was delusion inducing. He didn’t need you to look at him like that. What was he to do if he fell for your charms any harder than he already had. He shook his head, closing his eyes to break the searing eye contact you had with him.

Chris chuckled, reminding Minho of his presence. “Baby, I think you are fucking with his head looking at him like that.” Minho’s eyes shot open. What did that mean? “Don’t lead him on… tell him what you want.” He grabbed your chin to keep your eyes on Minho. “Tell him again what my dirty girl wants.”

Your tongue darted out, wetting your slightly parched lips. “Cum inside me, Minho….” You were pleading with him now and how could you not oblige? “Fuck it deep into this pussy… it’s yours for the night…” Could he get high off words? It felt like more than his lower head was about to pop. That was all it took for him to burst. He pushed his hips flush against yours, hands moving to your hips to keep them in places as his streams of cum filled you up. You reached for his face again, dragging your thumb over his bottom lip, as your eyes stared deep into his. He didn’t need a kiss if this was how you treated him. But if he had one wish, this night would never end. He’d repeat it over and over again until the end of time.

© ✐Channieskies 『MINORS DNI! This post contains nsfw material. Please do not interact with it if you are under the age of 18. Do not translate or repost here or on other sites. Please leave a like , comment, and reblog if you enjoyed this story.♥』