#another thing to add is that names have power
Explore tagged Tumblr posts
Text
No grave can hold my body down; I'll crawl home to her
chapter 6
Chapter 7
âSevika, slow down!â you demand, your legs straining to keep up with her broad strides. Sheâs storming through the street towards the grocer, weaving through people and dragging you behind her.
She huffs, slowing her pace marginally, still practically stomping toward the grocer. You eye her with concern â she had been fine a moment ago when she found you, granted she had been grumpy then, too, but not this grumpy. If she notices the weird look youâre giving her, she doesnât call you out â in fact, she doesnât say anything at all. She just keeps on power-walking to the grocer, dragging you along behind her by a hand around your arm. If you were more fool-hearted, you would almost call her jealous. Not that youâd call her out on it; youâre fairly certain if you did, her anger would come to a head, and sheâd tear a strip off you in public. Or make you sleep in the Last Drop.
Youâre not quite sure which is worse.
There arenât many people in the grocery store, which puts you at ease. The street is swarming with people, and the quiet relief of the store feels like an oasis in a desert. Taking your time, you pick out everything you can think of without Sevikaâs help (the most input she gives is when you ask yes or no questions about her cooking implements). Various breakfast items, what youâll need for dinners, and, of course, tonightâs dinner. You decided to cook with steak, baked potatoes, baked beans and roasted carrots. Much to your delight, the baked beans had been canned by a local resident! You were beginning to doubt if canned beans really lasted longer than nine years.
Sevika remains silent and stormy throughout the entire grocery trip. Even as youâre marvelling at various canned foods, jerky, farm-fresh raw meat and vegetables you thought youâd never see before. No matter how many potatoes you shove in her face, grinning from ear to ear, Sevika continues to grouch. At least she carries the shopping basket for you.
Then, you grab a jar of honey off the shelf⊠or at least try to. She snatches it out of your hand and places it back on the shelf.
âWe have honey at home, darling,â she growls, glaring down at you.
âOh, so she can speak!â you huff, not quite willing to cave and let her smooth the last twenty minutes over. She canât just sulk in silence for as long as she wants and then tease you with the pet name Grayson used! Â
âDonât need to waste my money on my own honey,â Sevika mutters, pushing you forward by nudging your back with the edge of the shopping basket.
You huff out a sigh and keep walking, picking up a few more things as you head to the till. Mostly, some spices and garlic to add a little flavour to tonightâs dinner. The silent treatment takes two, and if she wants to be a grouch, you can match her level.
The young woman working the till isnât sure what to make of the two of you. She tries a friendly greeting, but when neither of you gives her a response more than a head nod, she fumbles, trying to make light conversation while awkwardly checking you out. When neither of you responds, she clams up and avoids making eye contact. The groceries are bagged and purchased in silence â a silence that follows you home.
Sevika puts away various groceries as you swipe back the ones you need for dinner. Her eyes sparkle at the steaks as if sheâd expected you to keep them for another day or something foolish. Yet, when you donât comment on her reaction, she storms off with a glass of whiskey as if sheâd been waiting for you to bridge the gap. You, of all people! You werenât the one throwing a hangry hissy-fit over nothing!
You place a chair in the entryway to the kitchen. Itâs not much of a deterrent, but it gets your point across.
Luckily, cooking requires love and concentration. The Sevikaâs grumpy attitude melts away from you like the butter in the carrotâs dish. Popping the window open, you let the chirping of birds and someone playing the guitar in the distance filter into the house. It lightens your mood considerably, giving you something to listen to instead of the tense silence of the house. Still playing the silent game, you resist the urge to hum along as you dance about the kitchen, grabbing spices, pots, pans and cooking utensils. A very generous spoonful of honey is added to the carrots and the baked beans, as well as the steak pan. Periodically, you hear banging as Sevika storms around the house restlessly. You shrug it off â if she really wanted back in the kitchen, she can come apologize.
It isnât until youâre adding the steak to the pan, letting it devour the bubbling butter, salt, rosemary, honey and garlic, that you hear a cough at the entryway to the kitchen. You tilt your head slightly to find Sevika standing just behind the chair. Sheâs clutching her barely touched glass of whiskey to her chest, shoulders shrunk forward, head bowed, and wearing clean clothes. A button-up plaid shirt with red and black stripes, a white tank top, a purple carabiner and a pair of blue jeans with more than a few holes in them. Sheâs definitely playing dirty â the unbuttoned plaid shirt draws your attention to her white tank top tucked into her pants. The same white tank top that does nothing to hide the fact sheâs not wearing a bra underneath it, her nipples pressing indents into the fabric. If she hadnât pissed you off so thoroughly, you might have jumped her bones then and there, potential rejection be damned.
âCan I⊠come in?â she mumbles, as if it isnât her kitchen, in her house, and youâre not cooking with food she bought with her money.
âWhy should I let you?â you bristle, your defensive attitude from earlier rearing its ugly head. You refuse to let her win â even going so far as to purposely fix your glare on her face and nothing else.
âBecause⊠Iâm sorry,â she spits like the words taste foul on her tongue.
âFor?â you push, minding the steaks so you donât overcook them.
She sighs heavily, staring down at her drink and swirling it in her glass. Thereâs a long, silent moment filled only with the hiss of the steaks before she looks up at you, eyes wet around the edges and her lips pursed into a mournful frown.
âFor giving you the silent treatment. I shouldnât have done that â I know how you are with crowds and people and all that. I know better than that,â Sevika whispers, barely audible over the steaks as you flip them over. Your heart aches at her words despite your brain screaming at you to be upset with her. Sheâs extending an olive branch, are you really petty enough to cling to anger after an apologyâŠ?
You scrutinize her for a moment longer than you should, letting her squirm under your gaze until she ducks her head again. It satisfies the prickly thing in your chest that is still upset at her. Finally, you relent and ask: âHow do you like your steak cooked?âÂ
âRare,â she grunts, moving the chair aside. When you make no move to stop her, she steps into the kitchen, sighing a little that sheâd read between the lines correctly.
Her fingers cradle your hip as she looks over your shoulder, glass set off to the side. You can feel her press against your back, the lightest touch that consumes you like wildfire as she hums with approval.
âThat looks perfect, sweetheart.â
âIt better be, took me so long that itâs dark out now,â you say, nodding your head to the window where the stars are twinkling. âIâm sorry, Sevâ, we might not be able to see your bees tonight.â
âNah, Iâve got two headlamps, weâll be alright. The bees wonât care much if we take a little peak at them when the sunâs not out⊠unless youâd prefer to wait until tomorrow? We could always go before my patrol â if youâre alright with getting up before my patrol, that is. Itâs pretty early in the morning.â
âHow about we smoke something tonight and see the bees tomorrow? Iâll have to get up with you anyway. Vander and Silco told me to partner up with you until my printing press is ready,â you inform her, plating the steaks. They donât need that long, especially if Sevika wants hers rare.
You let the wording hang in the air, unintentional connotations lacing your poor choice of words.
âPrinting press?â Sevika asks, skipping over the accidental bait entirely. You groan internally â she can press her boobs against the back of your neck, but she canât take the hint that even your subconscious wants to eat her pussy?!
âI used to be an archivist before the apocalypse. Iâm already trained in preserving old texts; itâs a fitting job to reprint old books and make new ones. Mostly survival guides and the like ââ you take the carrots out of the oven â âGraysonâs making me a printing press for free if Iâll reprint her romance novels.â
Sevika nearly chokes on the sip of the drink she had dared to take. âYeah, uh, printing press is a good idea,â she chuckles awkwardly, face flushed red.
âI think so too â it will be nice to have something new to read! I miss books⊠though finding lesbian romance books was always way too difficult. The market was always oversaturated by straight romances, but finding a good lesbian one felt like a needle in a haystack,â you continue, plating the carrots, beans and baked potatoes.
âRight,â Sevika coughs, scratching the back of her neck. âHad better luck finding a book than a girlfriend, though. Lot of casual, not a lot of commitment back then.â
You nod your head in agreement as you pass her a plate. âNot like itâs much easier to find a girlfriend now,â you giggle, pilfering the silverware drawer for a spoon, fork and knife.
Sevika mumbles something too low to properly make out. You only catch âIâ and âchange.â The clatter of the silverware as she grabbed herself a set didnât help either.
âWhat was that?â you ask innocently.
âSaid we should eat outside, back porchâs got a table on it,â she says, face remaining impassive as she nods her head to the door.
âWeâve got to get you a dining table,â you sigh, shaking your head as you step outside.
âDidnât need one before. Canât cook,â Sevika grunts, following you outside.
You find an old table outside with a few chairs around it. Theyâre plastic lawn chairs â the kind that wonât break down for thousands of years. They look to have recently been hosed off, scrubbed down and âredecoratedâ with various spray-paint colours. You recognize Jinxâs handiwork from a mile away, giggling a little as you take a seat. At least the table is wooden, so it doesnât buckle under your knife as you cut your steak. Far better than you would have fared trying to cut a steak on your lap in the living room.
Sevika sits down across from you, tucking into her steak. You donât even notice youâre watching her with bated breath until she freezes, a spoonful of beans halfway to her mouth and furrows her brow at you.
âWhat? Something on my face?â
âOh! Shit â sorry! Itâs⊠been a while since I cooked for someone. I guess I wanted to make sure it didnât taste like ass,â you confess, ducking your head a little to shove a carrot into your mouth. You have to bite your tongue to hold back a moan â your carrots really have been missing honey for the past few years.
Sevika is quiet for a moment, the only sound between the two of you is the clacking of silverware. You shove steak into your mouth to prevent yourself from devolving into a rambling mess of apologies pre-emptively in case she doesnât like youâre cooking.
âCan you cook dinner every night?â Sevika practically moans, and you blink at her with wide eyes. âI, er, your cookingâs really good. Better than my shitty attempts. Way better. If you get your own place, I might just come over every night for dinner.â
âWell, Silco did say the printing shop will take priority over a house of my own⊠so I can cook dinner as long as you keep buying the groceries.â
âCareful making promises like that, or I might not let you leave,â Sevika jokes, chuckling to herself as she takes another bite of steak.
You try not to fixate on the fact she said, âif you get your own place,â or how she doesnât even try to weasel her way out of sharing her house with you. Youâre pretty sure if you do fixate on it, it will end with you stripping down to your birthday suit and crawling across the table⊠which would be super embarrassing and definitely get you kicked out of her house. In a desperate bid to distract your brain, you shove more steak and beans into your mouth, doing your damndest to focus on the taste of your delicious cooking and not the sight of Sevikaâs nipples poking out from under her shirt.
Sevika does the dishes without even being asked. You try to help by drying them, but she shoes you away, instructing you to take a seat on the couch and relax. You find yourself fidgeting in your seat, wanting to do more. Dishes clatter in the sink as Sevika rinses them off, putting them away in their various homes. It comes to a head quickly â you bolt from your seat and dash upstairs. The least you can do is change out of your clothes into something more⊠comfortable (as a little payback for Sevika dressing down). You throw on a sundress that complements your skin and almost reaches your knees, paired with knee-high socks you usually wear under your long underwear in the colder months and a cute but nonchalant hairstyle that frames your face. Satisfied with your little ensemble, you head back downstairs and take a seat on the couch.
It's much easier to wait when youâre giddy with anticipation for when Sevika walks through the door rather than worrying if you should have insisted on helping. You fidget with the dress, adjusting it so that it rides up slightly on your thighs and that the sleeves hang off your shoulders. Maybe itâs a little much⊠maybe youâre still trying to get some payback after her silent treatment.
When Sevika finally does come to join you in the living room, she freezes in the doorway. For a long and tense moment, she doesnât speak, and youâre worried you somehow crossed a line. Then her lips split in a smirk and she crosses over to behind the couch. The barest touch of her finger tilts your head back as she looms over you.
She opens her mouth to speak and then a nervous tremor passes through her. The smirk falters into a smile, and she asks: âDo you want to go out for a smoke? Iâve got some stronger stuff than you had last night.â
To say youâre disappointed would be an understatement. Yet, you try not to let her see it â the nervous tremor lingers in your mind, making your heart ache. If she feels more comfortable playing this game of cat and mouse, who are you to force her to move faster? Especially when the game is oh-so fun.
âIs that a promise? I havenât been able to afford the stronger stuff in ages,â you giggle, resting your head against her inner arm as she continues to tilt your face back.
ââCourse it is. Do you take me for a liar?â Sevika gruffs, and you giggle again, kissing her inner wrist gently before standing up. She swallows thickly, pulling her hand back to her side slowly.
âWell? What are you waiting for then?â you ask before flouncing your way to the back porch.
Sevika takes a minute before joining you, making you wait outside in the cool night air, watching the stars in civilizationâs warm embrace. You get comfortable on the porch swing, letting it rock back and forth with a soft smile on your lips. The backdoor creeks open, and you barely lift your head as Sevika sits down next to you tentatively. Glancing to the side, you realize why; without thinking, you had only left enough space to your right, forcing her to sit with her most vulnerable side facing you. Her amputated arm doesnât bother you at all. However, this is clearly bothering her. In an effort to reassure her, you squish closer, resting your head on her shoulder. She freezes for a moment, eyes flickering down to you with a pinched brow, dubbie held between her frozen fingers.
âYou going to light that or what?â you grunt, hoping normalcy will smooth the tense moment over.
âImpatient, are we?â Sevika chuckles, placing the dubbie between her lips. The lighter flickers in the dark night, illuminating her face in a warm glow for the briefest moment.
She takes the first drag, blowing it out through her nose. You take it from her fingers as she passes it over to you, pulling a long drag that curls up into the sky upon your exhale. Sevika slowly starts to calm down, relaxing into the porch swing as you melt into her side. Eventually, her head slumps to the side and rests on top of yours as both your bodies become tingly and light. When the dubbie burns out, she squishes it into the ashtray and closes her eyes with a satisfied hum. You mimic her, swinging your legs over top of hers so you are partially sitting in her lap. She chuckles and rests her hand on your legs, thumb stroking your bare skin. Worming your arm along the back of the porch swing, you play with the hairs growing at the base of her skull, twisting them around your fingers.
The night chitters and stretches on, coyotes howling in the distance, horses braying in the stables, and crickets chirping. You sigh with relief, shutting your eyes and letting the safety of Zaun wrap around you. Sevika hums in agreement, kissing the top of your head absentmindedly. In your chest, your heart flutters at the gesture, wanting to push up and meld your lips against hers until your bodies become one. Instead, you remain cuddled up against her side, hand slowly snaking around her torso to hold her waist.
âSevika,â you start, and she hums in acknowledgement. âI know this is a personal question â so you donât have to answer if you donât want. But⊠everyone keeps avoiding me about how you lost your arm ââ Sevika stiffens against you, her thumb ceasing â âYou donât owe me an explanation. Honestly, I wonât bring it up again if you donât want me to. Iâm here to listen if you do, though.â
âJeez, you really know how to ruin a perfect high,â Sevika jokes, huffing out a forced chuckle.
âSorry, you donât ââ
âNah, itâs alright. Kinda one of those things I donât like telling people, and I donât like being asked, but youâre cute, so Iâll let you get away with it. So long as you promise not to tell Jinx.â
âWhy?â
âBecause she thinks I lost it in the explosion saving her and Viâs asses, and thatâs how sheâs going to remember it until sheâs old enough to not feel guilty about what actually happened. This is something her dads and Vi decided on â Iâd tell the little shit if I didnât think they were going to murder me for it,â Sevika explains soberly, squeezing your knee.
âI wonât tell her, I promise,â you murmur, continuing to play with the tiny strands of her hair.
âGood,â Sevika grunts, nodding her head. âI lost it back when the world went to shit. I was working at the bar when a few of the patrons turned into the gone. Back then, we didnât know what an incubator or stumbler even was â people came in sick or ravenous all the time. They paid their tabs and tipped well, who were we to turn them away? But, then that ravenous hunger turned from any food to anything and all of a sudden, Silco was screaming because a patron just tried to eat his leg. Vander got his gun; I ran upstairs to get the kids. That message came through just moments after Iâd gotten them from their beds. Powder saw it â er, Jinx used to go by Powder⊠itâs a long story â anyway, Powder saw the message and started freaking out. I was so focused on her breakdown that I didnât notice Milo and Clagger wereâŠâ she trails of and reaches for another dubbie, her fingers shaking.
You help her light it, your heart aching in your chest. You hadnât heard those names mentioned before. If this story is going where you think you arenât sure, you want to know. The infection had two stages before it got bad: incubators and stumblers. Incubators are just sick â fighting off the infection but not yet succumbed. They canât turn anyone. Stumblers are trapped in their own bodies, ravenous and eating anything (even garbage) with the exception of flesh. It wasnât until they worsened into âthe Goneâ that they started eating flesh, with many widely speculating that the person they once were no longer existed.
After a beat, Sevika continues, passing you the dubbie: âMilo and Clagger had been sick for a while before then. We had thought theyâd gotten better when their appetites returned. It wasnât until⊠it wasnât until I was up there, too distracted by comforting Powder, that one of them lunged at me, and I knew. Vi helped me fight them off, but I could see in her eyes that those were still her brothers â adopted be damned. We hadnât even noticed that Powder had grabbed one of her experiments until she had lugged it at the âpeopleâ attacking Vander downstairs. Then it all went to shit. I grabbed both of them, trying to shield them from the blast as the bar went up in flames. Vander and I barely got everyone out in a frenzy of adrenaline. Grayson showed up with a police van and shouted us to get in â we didnât think twice; the bar was burning, and the world was ending. Thought it was a police evacuation at first, until she admitted sheâd stolen the van to get people to safety when the police system crumbled. We drove all day and night to get out of that city, the car deathly silent until we were sure it was safe to breathe.â
Sevikaâs voice starts to waver, and she breaks off, taking another heavy drag before continuing: âWe stopped at an abandoned town for supplies. My arm was killing me, so I rolled up the sleeve and found a fucking bite mark sprouting purple veins. Silco caught me, and the two of us shared a horrified look â we used to watch old zombie movies together on the barâs shitty little TV during slow days. He kept the kids distracted while Grayson and Vander cut my arm off. We didnât want to worry them that I was going to turn and they were going to lose yet another family member. So, we told them my arm had been too damaged from the explosion to keep without putting me at risk. Over the years, Powder interpreted that as meaning sheâd blown my arm off while saving everybody. We let her think that â it felt cruel to tell her that sheâd gotten me infected. Especially when we caught it in time.â
âIâve never heard of someone preventing infection through an amputation,â you mumble, unsure what to say to that. You know Sevika would not appreciate you saying, âIâm sorry that happened to you,â but you didnât want to seem like you were avoiding her story.
âGuess Iâm just lucky,â Sevika shrugs, offering you the dubbie. You take it and inhale a small drag. âThanks for listening, by the way. Not many people around I can tell that story to. Not many I want to tell. It feels good to tell someone who wasnât there when it happened⊠I swear, sometimes Vander still looks at me as if I could have saved Milo and Clagger. Itâs not as if I chose to leave them there! They were infected, and taking them with us would have meant endangering Jinx and Vi! Itâs justâŠâ she trails off with a frustrated sigh.
âYou wish you could have done more for them? That youâd know before and helped them in some way?â you finish for her, passing her back the dubbie.
âYeah. That.â
âI know how you feel⊠my parents were infected. They were â they would have had a better chance out here than me. Mom knew about plants, gardening and survival skills. Dad knew about building, camping and hunting. Some days, it feels like it should have been them instead of me. Some days, I wish I hadnât circled back to their house and found themâŠâ
Sevika squeezes your knee: âIt isnât either of our faults. Life just happens. Things go to shit and thereâs not much we can do about it.â
âWe can keep living, thatâs a start,â you point out, resting your head on her shoulder again.
âYeah⊠thatâs all we can do,â Sevika murmurs, exhaling smoke. âYou got enough ammunition for tomorrowâs patrol, or do we need to stop by the arms storage before heading out?â
You giggle at how she breaks the tension once more with a non sequitur. âDonât worry, Iâve got everything I need for tomorrow. Thanks for checking.â
âWould be pretty fucked up if you got bit tomorrow after all that,â Sevika grunts with a light shrug.
22 notes
·
View notes
Text
some people in this fandom really need to get their posting privileges taken away cause every post i see is all about TRAGIC JEGULUS
LIKE I GET IT, THEYâRE THE POSTER CHILDREN FOR TRAGIC SHIPS BUT I DONâT NEED A CONSTANT REMINDER
cause wdym james is a starchaser, chasing a star that is much too far away from where he is standing, trying to get close to it but only being forced to admire from afar because whatever he does isnât enough. that the cosmos, the fates, destiny is what gets in way???
wdym regulus is a sunseeker because he seeks for the warmth and comfort the sun emits as all heâd known in his life was the cold⊠how he seeks the sun even though it could burn him, damage him, engulf him in burning flames which he would never recover from???
#yes iâm one of the people who needs their posting privileges taken away#THEYâRE JUST SO TRAGIC ITS SO GOOD#another thing to add is that names have power#haha i have another post for that#marauders#marauders era#dead wizards from the 70s#regulus black#james potter#jegulus#starchaser#sunseeker#starlitthoughts
128 notes
·
View notes
Text
Lan Wangji goes to Lotus Pier (No relation to the AU of the same name)
[First] Prev <â-> Next
#poorly drawn mdzs#better drawn mdzs#mdzs#lan wangji#wei wuxian#Another split type comic because I decided to be ambitious.#This flashback is currently beating my ass. There are so many timeskips within the flashback! My flow and pacing are wheezing!#I loved how this scene starts with the crowd's point of view. The observations and gossip add a lot.#And it helps reposition us to what the external perspective is on these two. Namely that 'they don't get along.'#Tensions are known! Even here in Nouveau Lotus Pier.#Ah...Lan Wangji never got a chance to see the Lotus Pier of Wei Wuxian's childhood and adolescence...did he?#It's not the same. He's not the same. Call them by the same name and people will know what you mean...#...but the first version - the one with the fond memories - is gone for good.#It's sort of interesting isn't it? How names can hold so much power and still be hollow?#We often get stuck over past versions of things. Be it ourselves or other people or places.#Change is scary but the truth is nothing ever stays the same. It's always moving. You're always moving.#It's okay to mourn the past. Maybe it's people you lost or the person you hoped to be. Let yourself feel the grief.#And then? Then you grow around that pain and keep on going. If you feel like you can't - remember you don't have to do it alone.#A side note: Listening to the tossing flowers extra is so essential for this scene. It's cute and gives us more of [redacted]#What's [redacted]? You'll see in the next comic!
1K notes
·
View notes
Text
I'm really out here developing a full backstory for the Warren line from the time they claimed the manor for good to the time of Penny's birth...... as if I would ever fully flesh out and write it..... like I've got all these ideas and I just want to ramble on about them but WHY when in a week's time I'll move onto something else and forget about this
#what should p Baxter's fathers name be lol#i havent bothered giving any men names bc most of them arent around lol#like the bowen surname i have carry down for like 3 generations#but p baxters dad is a g he sticks around and buys the manor#yes i have given all the cousin girlies names#as well as their mothers and grandmothers#they're not all first cousins bc im doing exclusively women line to make it make more senae#to me anyway#like im making a whole thing where men genuinely cant be born to them#to make Wyatt's birth more shocking yk?#yes i know the show has that family tree which HAS men on it but that piece of paper is literally not canon have you SEEN it?#so every male born in the family dies very young before their powers could even come in#so no one knows if men in the senior warren line is actually possible#and thats another thing im exploring#where the charmed ones are actually the senior most descendent of melinda warren#and the witch blood does get more dilute by seniority#since that would add to the idea of a first born witch being the strongest#AND on that i just rewatched which prue is it anyway#and decided brianna stopped gabriel last time for revenge on killing her big sister#hence why she is an aunt not a direct line ancestor bc her line is a junior warren branch#the halliwells are descended from briannas older sister#anyway if anyone wants me to ramble on about this more i will gladly do so#someone anyone please surely you can see i have a lot to say based on the length of these tags#i have EXPLAINED why penny was born in boston is that not enough#bri rambles
2 notes
·
View notes
Note
CAN YOU PLEASE, PLEASE ON MY KNEES WRITE ABOUT BITCHY!READER X RAFE AND IT'S SMUT?? I FEEL LIKE YOU'LL DO IT JUSTICE!!! thank you
you literally read my mind because i was just thinking of this prompt that works so well with bitchy!reader!! hope you'll enjoy <3 (if itâs bad, look away!!)
WHATEVER SHE WANTS | Rafe Cameron
MASTERLIST (Blurb) | x Bitchy!Kook!Female Reader
Content â 18+, power/dominance play, p in v, doggy style, orgasm denial, and dirty talks
Word Count â 2.2K
lıllılı Whatever She Wants by Bryson Tiller
You always wanted Rafe.
It's your right. Since you were a child, you demanded the best in everythingâtoys, clothes, boyfriends. They had to be perfect. Had to be yours. And yes, it may come off a little superficial but who cares? It's what you deserve, and it'll be hell if you don't get it.
Since the first look, when you caught Rafe lounging on a chair with his friends, tipping the rim of his beer onto his lips, while his eyes scanned over the room in an attractive lazy way, you knew you had to have him. It didn't help that you were competitive, and Rafe garnered attention with women. They flocked to him and begged for a minute of his time. It became a game to you, and that heightened your need.
Everything was calculated. The makeup you wore, the outfits you curated, the glances. You always timed your arrivalsâwhen you knew Rafe would be watching the doorâand marked your exits. You knew exactly what to wearâdresses that tantalizing exposes your ass, but only as a previewâand the cosmetic style he liked. Rafe's the type of man who believes he wants a bare-faced woman, but truly, he wants something natural that enhances your features.
You came with friends. You left alone. You drank enough to loosen your nerves and danced with the crowd, but not enough to make a fool of yourself. You knew your tolerance and knew Rafe didn't like a messy girl.
At least, in public.
You caught his gaze a couple of times, flashing a flirtatious smile over your shoulders, but never lingered longer than three seconds. Rafe can't know how easy he can have you, because Rafe, like most boys, loves a chase. You're not easy, you're spoiled. He had to come to you.
And he did.
Rafe tried to introduce himself on several occasions. On those nights when you're leaving earlyâas plannedâRafe would cut to the door to pay a parting remark. "You're leaving so soon?" he would ask, "Alone? Again?" He would add. You always told him it was because no one caught your eye, and Rafe took that as a personal challenge. He would then try to tell you his name, as if he were different, to which you nodâdetachedâas if it didn't matter.
It drove him insane.
Because you didn't offer the same courtesy. You kept him guessing. He had to finally ask around to learn your name, which he would use to tease you the next time he saw you. And he did. And you laughed. But you acted like you didn't care. Like all the trouble he went through didn't prove a thing. That's when Rafe knew he needed you.
Tonight's no different. Just as you're about to leave, Rafe catches you with another smooth pick-up line. You just giggle. He studies how your eyes crinkle with amusement, the curve of your lips painted in his favorite shade of lipstick, and the lithe tilt of your head to the side as you ask him with your gaze, is that the best you got?
It isn't. But Rafe's determined to get further with you tonight. He continues to talk, asking about which men disappointed you and the reasons for your constant disappearances from these parties. And, for once, you're answering his questions with little resistance. Perhaps, it's because of the amount of cheap wines you consumed, or maybe youâfor onceâare tired of the games and want it to come to a fruitful end. Because when Rafe finally asks to take you home, you don't say no.
The walk to his truck is brisk. His arm wrapped around your waist, directing your path, while his fingers trail over the backless cut of your dress, producing a buzzing feeling beneath your skin. He's whispering something in your ear, but all of it is incomprehensible as you revel in the feeling of his touch and his touch alone. The feeling of your game coming to a conclusion.
And, just as you're about to reach the car, Rafe slams you into the side of the vehicle with a searing kiss.
His mouth catches yours and everything feels perfect. As if the buildup leading to this precise moment had been worth it, and every needy emotion rises to the top. His hand travels down the length of your body, to your hips, pulling you closer, and needing to eliminate all the space and wait you made him do.
Rafe's movements are swift and controlled. One of his hands props open the backdoor of his car, pushing you inside, and laying you against his leather seats. All without breaking the kiss.
"You don't know how long I wanted this, wanted you," Rafe blubbers between wet kisses. "Seeing you at every party, in these tiny dresses, not being able to touch," he rasps, bundling the hem of your dress into a tight fist. "Tell me you wear them for me."
"And if I did?" You say with a moan, tipping your head back to grant him access to your neck. "Did you like them?"
"Of course I did," he murmurs against the curve of your neck, the vibration of his words sending heat straight to your core. "You dressing up for me like my own perfect doll."
You want to retort that it's him who's in the palm of your hand, but Rafe sucks on a sensitive spot, causing your eyes to roll back and a whimper to escape your lips instead. He grabs your wrists with one hand, throwing them over his shoulder as he pulls you flush against his chest.
"So pretty, so fucking untouchable," Rafe kisses down the length of your throat, his fingers collecting the spaghetti straps of your dress before sliding it down the slope of your shoulders. "I'm going to fuck you so good."
His words snap you out of your haze. And while Rafe continues to expose more of your body, lamenting each reveal of flesh with a kiss, you withdraw enough to grab his attention.
"You're not fucking me in a car."
"What?" Rafe breaths, unable to snap out of the trace you had him in. Delirious with want, his mind warped around the idea of you being so close to attainable, that all rational manners left his system. He tries to kiss you again, to resume the moment, but you pull enough to send him a deadly glare, pouty and spoiled.
"Rafe, take me somewhere nice or we're not fucking at all."
He can't believe what he's hearing. He can't believe he's contemplating it. But Rafe doesn't understand that you have it all planned out to result in a perfect moment. You won't let it be disrupted just because Rafe can't drive the extra mile to take you somewhere nice. You'd rather leave him with blue balls.
"Are you serious?" He asks slowly, his eyes drawn to your swollen lips, the little pout, and the desperation to have them back on his. Sure, Rafe's had girls who wanted something more than a casual fling. He had them ask him for a better spot, but he never obliged. He never cared. But you're different. He wants you, and it's been a hell of a chase to get you here. He'll be damned if he lets it slip away because of a pretentious standard.
"Does it look like I'm joking?" You cross your arms over your chest, pushing your breasts further up. He nearly groans at the sight. "We're not having sex here."
"The nearest place has to be at least a fifteen-minute drive," Rafe argues. And it makes you upset, brows pinched together. "We can justâ"
"I don't care," you snap. "Take me somewhere nice or I'm leaving."
You're serious. He sees it on your face. Rafe can't risk that, despite wanting to protest, because he knows he if he messes this up, he won't have another chance. Swearing under his breath, he drags himself out of the backseat and into the driver's side, pulling the car out of the parking lot.
Dangerously, Rafe speeds down the road, while you're sitting in the backseat with a self-satisfied demeanor, fixing your makeup through the rearview mirror. Occasionally, Rafe spares a glance through the same reflection, connecting with your gaze, and while there's subtle bitterness coiled in his chest, he recognizes the bigger prize at hand.
And what he can do with it.
Because, despite your bratty attitude, Rafe is a person who wants control. You want perfection. You two can have both.
That's how you find yourself in a newly-booked penthouse suite at one of the bougie hotels in Kildare, your head digging into the soft comforter of the bed, your ass in the air, as Rafe drills into you from behind.
When you reached the room, everything moved frantically. Rafe slammed you against the nearest wall to kiss you againâneeding your lips, needing your tasteâwhile his hands roamed over your dress and pulled down your cleavage, revealing your tits. Your hands wandered down his pants, unbuttoning them hurriedly, needily, and he assisted you by pulling them off alongside his boxers. His cock was big, slightly red with a pearly bead of pre-cum that rolls off the tip. And you could tell by the look on Rafe's face that he wanted you to suck it.
But you told him, "I don't do blowjobs."
So fucking pretentious.
It didn't matter. He hauled you over to the king-sized bed and pushed you onto the mattress. You landed with a soft thump, while Rafe hauled you up to your ass, pushing up your dress, until it became nothing but a bundle around your waist. His movements were urgent, and he wantedâno, neededâto be inside you because a bratty girl was going to be a great fuck.
And he was right.
You're perfect. The way you wrap around him, the way he sinks inside you. He doesn't know if it's because of the delirium of wanting you so desperately, of chasing you for so longâbut he never had better pussy. And it doesn't help that your moans are sweet, breathy, and loudâbegging him to go faster.
"Such a pretentious brat," Rafe grabs your throat, hauling you upwards till your spine rest on his chest, airway constricted by his harsh grip. "Making me wait this fucking long."
"RâRafe," you mewl, eyes rolling to the back of your skull at the way he's angling his cock deep into your cervix, bullying the sensitive spot over and over again until you're seeing stars.
"Had to get the princess treatment, did you?" He murmurs hotly into your ear, nibbling a spot on your neck as you rest the back of your head on his shoulder. His thrusts grow more erratic. "Had to make me earn you, didn't you?"
"You weren't going to fuck me in a car," you persist, and despite how cockdrunk you became, and how much of an attitude you're willing to sacrifice to feel good, you were still adamant about receiving what you deemed enough. He respected that. "I'm not one of your whores."
"But I'm fucking you like my own personal slut. Is that any better?" He bites the lobe of your ear, and his other hand wanders up to grab a handful of your breast, squeezing the fat before rolling your perked nipple between his fingers. You moan louder. "What does that make you?"
You can't seem to answer him, can't seem to find your senses. The words Rafe uses are vulgar, but thereâs still no regrets about this entire thing. Rafe wanted you so badly, that he was willing to spend hundreds of dollars on a hotel he probably won't even stay the night in. All because you demanded it.
You win.
"Shut up," you stammer, your stomach tightening. "Shut up and just fuck me, Rafe."
Rafe grins. The hand playing with your tits slips between your thighs to assist, finding your clit easily as he rubs it with his thumb in sync with his thrusts. Breathy moans escape you as you arch into his palm, while he pistons deeper inside of you, bottoming out.
"You sound so pretty, doll," Rafe murmurs against your heated skin, "Come on, take my fucking cock."
Everythingâs so dirty. The way he handles you, the way your wetness drips down your thighs, the way his words breathe onto your skin and tighten your core. But you love it. You do, but you're not willing to give in so easily. No matter how good it feels. No matter how much he feels like a prize.
"You don't deserve me." You whisper with a mewl, body tightening with the familiar wave of your undoing.
Yet, Rafe merely grins.
"But you're sucking in my cock like you need me," Rafe taunts, pleasure coursing through his body at the way your walls grip him in a vice. The way your words spark challenge and invitation. He knows, despite your spoiled attitude and pretentious demands, he'll do anything to get another chance like this. "Now, behave like a good girl or you're not coming tonight."
IMPORTANT: if you want to follow my fics and updates, follow @zyafics-library and turn on notifications!
tagging @starkeysprincess bc she saw it first <3
#rafe cameron#rafe obx#rafe x reader#rafe outer banks#rafe imagine#rafe smut#rafe fic#rafe x you#rafe fanfiction#rafe cameron fic#rafe cameron smut#obx fanfiction#obx fic#obx x reader#obx smut#rafe cameron x reader#rafe cameron x y/n#obx#rafe cameron x female reader#outer banks#rafe cameron x you#rafe cameron and you#rafe cameron and reader#rafe cameron and y/n#rafe cameron fanfiction#rafe cameron fanfic
4K notes
·
View notes
Text
So with the terrible Minecraft movie trailer dropping,
I've seen a lot of people bringing up better stories in the world of Minecraft, like Story Mode or the books or the SMPs, but may I add another option that would be a way better use of your time and money than the Minecraft movie (esp cuz its free)?
Animation Vs. Minecraft
(Note: contains out of context spoilers for this series to give you a sneak peek of what's waiting for you)
There's a good chance you've seen the first video, since it's one of the most watched minecraft videos on youtube, made by the same guy who did Animation vs Animator.
youtube
But did you know that the stick figures pick the game back up and continue the series?
There are now three completed seasons packed with fun episodic content that naturally blossoms into a larger, engrossing story that amounts to /several hours of animated content/. It's got fun characters, gorgeous fight scenes, and even musical numbers, all told with next to no dialogue!
The whole thing is a love letter to Minecraft, with way more passion and knowledge of the game than WBS.
New episodes would show off the latest updates, like when the main characters explored the ancient cities and lush caves before they were officially released.
There are even homages to the Minecraft animation community, such as the episode featuring Monster School (my favorite part of this is the way they purposefully imitate the old janky animation in Herobrine's movements)
Not a fan of piglins always being villains? While there's certainly some bad piglins in this series (though I'd argue they're under duress), the main cast also befriends some, include this adorable piglin child.
Still not over Reuben's death from MSM? Well they've also got a pig (named Reuben by the community), and it both doesn't die, and occasionally does some badassery himself!
Speaking of the action, this series doesn't just reference minecraft's world and creatures: it expands on the mechanics and worldbuilding, creating avenues for some truly incredible action that can only be achieved within minecraft. It takes full advantage of the medium and world.
My personal favorite example of this is the team's expansion on the Lucky Blocks mod, exploring the idea of a "randomizer" power to its fullest extent.
The action scenes are the kind where you have to watch them five times over because each character is doing something completely unique and fun.
Here is all the episodes of season 1 compiled in one video to get you started, though there are also playlists out there:
youtube
All in all, this series is funny, gripping, and adorable, and is worth your attention far better than some corporate schlock.
2K notes
·
View notes
Text
delirium
bucky barnes x reader (sex pollen trope)
word count: 4.1k
summary: stranded in the middle of the alaskan wilderness with no means of communication after being exposed to a foreign drug, you're reluctant to accept help from the one person who has a shot at saving you.
warnings/tags: sex pollen, dub con, unprotected sex, oral, masturbation, angst, descriptions of physical pain, language, friends to lovers, avenger!reader, no use of y/n, reader is afab, 18+ only
flashbacks are in italics
Sometime in the near future, there would be a case study conducted on how long a human being could burn from the inside without dying.
They would refer to you as exhibit a.
Doctors and scientists would lay your cold corpse on a colder table and use a scalpel to cut you from your thorax to your belly button. They would scribble notes about how your lungs had turned to ash and your esophagus to molten lava.
They wouldn't say it, but they would think it's a shame, because your driver's license states that you were an organ donor.
A harsh gust of wind snaps you out of the twisted fantasy and back to your reality - standing barefoot on the rickety front porch steps of a small cabin in Sitka, Alaska. You've only been outside for a few minutes but the snow is pouring down at a brutal pace, already covering the tops of your exposed feet.
The razor sharp chill of the ground below you and the air that surrounds you are the only things tethering you to what little remains of your sanity.
You never thought that you would be so thankful for your feet to be going numb, but after feeling like every fiber of your being is getting melted with a hot branding iron for - what? Ten? Twelve hours now? You had to resist the temptation to submerge your entire body in the multiple feet of snow that had accumulated since nightfall.
You hear the front door of the cabin creak open from behind you. You don't have to turn around to know that he's standing in the doorway with the same look of pleading desperation that he's been giving you since the two of you had realized what was happening.
âYou need to come back inside,â he says delicately. His voice is muffled by the roar of the snowstorm, but right now with heightened senses, you hear him just fine. âYou're going to get hypothermia.â
You don't respond. The mere sound of his voice makes you grit your teeth together so hard that you're surprised the tiny bones don't shatter.
He keeps to the doorway, scared that if he takes one step closer, you'll flee into the miles of thick woods that surrounds you in only a pair of old sweatpants and an oversized t-shirt. He murmurs your name in a tone that begs you to come in from the below freezing temperatures.
âWhat time is it now?â You barely recognize your own voice - low and strained, it sounds like you haven't had anything to drink in days.
You clear your throat, though you doubt it'll make any difference.
âJust after four o'clock.â
Eleven hours into this hell, then. Best case scenario, another half a day of this. Worst case scenario, close to two.
Either way, you knew that these symptoms had yet to hit their peak. This would undoubtedly get worse before it gets better.
You stare out into the endless thicket of snow covered hemlocks and spruces. The illumination from the full moon makes the white powder on the branches glisten in the darkness.
Daylight was still hours away, and with it, hope for some means of communication with the rest of your team back in New York. The snowstorm had brought a widespread power outage across the city. Cell phone signal was nonexistent right now.
âGo on back to your room,â you tell him. âI'll come back inside in just a moment.â You continue to watch the blizzard before you, knowing that he's still just a few feet away from you. âI promise,â you add, hoping that heâll believe you and return to the bedroom you'd been forcing him to keep to.
The drug coursing through your veins had amplified every one of your five senses. Even with him behind the closed door of the bedroom, you could still smell faint traces of the earthy musk of his deodorant and something warm that is uniquely him.
You wouldn't chance coming back into the house until his scent has dissipated from the entrance - not unless you want to feel as though all air is being stripped from your lungs.
Even simply standing here, with him behind you and the wind blowing his scent in the opposite direction, is nearly intolerable.
You hear footsteps retreat into the house, growing quieter and quieter as he makes his way back down the hallway, until you finally hear the click of his bedroom door. You exhale a breath that you weren't aware you had been holding in.
You have no doubt that he'll try to drag you back inside by the ankles if he has to, so you make good on your promise and return to the sweltering interior of the six hundred square foot log cabin.
A sharp, stabbing pain radiates from the center of your body at that thought - the exact kind of thoughts you were actively trying to avoid having. Thoughts of his hands digging into your thighs, his wet mouth on your throat, his bare chest pressed against yours as he fucks you into the likely thirty-something year old couch - those thoughts. Dangerous territory thoughts - the kind you didn't trust yourself not to act on if dwelled upon for too long.
Apparently, the thought of him putting his hands around your ankles and dragging you kicking and screaming falls into that category.
You settle onto the couch, pulling your knees up to your chest in an effort to alleviate the ache in your lower belly. You notice that Bucky has crammed more wood into the fireplace, which currently serves as the main source of light for the cabin, save for a few candles that have been placed sporadically throughout the small space.
Sweat begins to bead across your skin within seconds of sitting down in front of the fire. You know that Bucky is just trying to keep the temperature of the house from dropping below zero while also providing enough light to see during the middle of the night while you are in too much discomfort to sleep, but you feel like you are locked in a sauna after running five miles.
You think back to all of the times that you've given Sam shit for taking ice baths after his workouts. Now nothing sounds better than an ice bath.
Almost nothing, anyway. The only thing that could possibly feel even better is laying down behind a closed door less than twenty feet away.
And he'd offered - begged, actually, to take this pain away from you.
âPlease,â he whispers, kneeling on the ground next to the couch, where you sit hunched over in pain. He's so close to you and it's fucking suffocating. He places his hand on your knee and you have to dig your nails into the suede upholstery to keep from whimpering. He notices the reaction and retracts his touch.
âSweetheart, look at me,â he says louder, the pet name finally getting you to meet his gaze for the first time since you dropped the glass jar of the firetruck red powder in the former HYDRA warehouse two hours ago.
Big mistake. Looking at him is a big fucking mistake. From the way his blue eyes bore into yours with sincere concern to the way that his plump, pink lips are slightly chapped from the cold weather -
âNo,â you say firmly, shaking your head into your hands. âI can't ask that of you. I can't make you do that. I would never forgive myââ
âYou wouldn't be asking or making me do anything,â he tries to reason with you. There's sincerity in his voice but you're too delirius to hear the truth of his words. âI'm offering. Because I care about you. Because I don't want to see you in any kind of pain if there's anything I can do about it. Because I think you'd do the same for me if the situation wereââ
âBucky,â you cut him off in a strained gasp. âYour voice is making this so much worse right now.â
âThen let me help you. Let me make you feel good.â
His words alone are enough to have you clenching your thighs around nothing but the thick material of your sweatpants. You can feel your cotton panties becoming more drenched with each word he speaks.
âNot like this.â You're on the verge of tears - from pain, from anger at the entire situation, from how goddamn badly you need to feel him inside you. âIt can't happen like this. I never wanted it to happen like this.â
His features soften, a look of understanding spreading across his face.
âWhen we fuck, I want it to be because we want to fuck,â you say as you jump up from your position on the couch, desperately needing to distance yourself from him before you do something you can't take back. âI don't want it to be because we feel like neither of us have a choice in the matter.â
âBut we do have a choice,â he murmurs from where he's still kneeling on the floor next to the couch. âAnd I'd choose to go back to that HYDRA facility and infect myself with this shit, too, if it means you'd feel a little less guilty about saying yes.â
Your answer to that was, of course, a big, giant absolutely fucking not. The snow started pouring down shortly after, making his irrational proclamation an impossibility, anyway.
Almost half a day later, here you are. Surrounded by miles and miles of snow and ice in a town with no power or semi-functioning cell phone towers, just trying to endure the fire coursing through your veins until the effects of the HYDRA made drug have worked through your system.
You're coming up on the twelve hour mark now, and there's no denying that you're desperate for relief in one way or another.
Worth a fucking shot, you think.
You prop your feet up on the glass coffee table in front where you sit on the couch, spreading your thighs apart by a few inches.
You hesitate for a moment, listening for any kind of indication that Bucky's no longer in the confines of the cabinâs singular bedroom.
Dead silent, except for the crackling of the wood burning in the fireplace.
You snake your hand down the front of your pants, past the waistband of your underwear and to your center that's been aching for hours now.
You stroke your fingers up and down your folds, stopping at the apex of your core to massage your clit in circular motions.
Your head rolls back on the couch at the sensation, immediately feeling the slightest sense of relief. You dig your teeth into your lower lip to keep from moaning - hard enough to draw blood, the taste of iron flooding your mouth.
You slip two fingers past your entrance, not requiring any foreplay to plunge them to the hilt. It feels good - the way you're working yourself with rapid scissoring motions. Really fucking good, actually. Better than fingering yourself has ever felt.
But only a mere minute into the ministrations, you fear that it won't be enough to satiate you in the way that the drug requires.
Still, you try. You yank your t-shirt above your tits, bringing your free hand to paw at your breast as you continue working your pussy with your fingers, the heel of your palm putting pressure against your clit.
âThat's not going to work, you know.â
You yank your hand out of your pants, snapping your head to the side to see him leaning against the frame of the small hallway. You had been so immersed in attempting to find some amount of relief that you hadn't heard him exit the bedroom. He's looking at you with sympathy and concern, not judgment - you don't think you'd be able to find it within yourself to feel embarrassed even if he were. Not in your current state of discomfort.
âHow do you know that?â Frustration is evident in your voice. You look away from him, back to the fire in front of you as you pull your shirt back down. The floor creaks as he steps out of the hallway and makes his way over to the opposite end of the small couch. He sits a foot away from you, close enough so that his scent and warmth invades your senses, sending a fresh wave of arousal to your core.
âBecause I've been through what you're going through right now.â
Your eyes break away from the ember that you've been staring at, your gaze snapping to him. You don't know why this comes as a surprise to you. It shouldn't, not with every other form of torment that HYDRA had inflicted upon him for over half a century.
âWhy didn't you tell me?â you ask, your voice barely above a whisper.
âI was embarrassed,â he answers with a small half-shrug, breaking your stare. âI didn't.. handle it as well as you are,â he continues, shame in his voice and cheeks rosy. âYouâre doing everything you can to fight something that you didn't ask for. That's more than I can say for myself.â
âYou were brainwashed, Bucky,â you remind him delicately. It's a risky move that makes your skin burn and belly clench, but you scoot closer to him on the couch - your outermost thigh brushing against his knee. If the two of you weren't both wearing sweatpants, the minimal touch might even aid in bringing you some relief. Instead, youâre left feeling desperate for more of him.
But you push the feeling down, wanting to do what little you can to comfort him - wanting him to know that you don't think poorly of him for what was forced onto him, and what is now being forced onto you, too.
âI would never judge you for anything they made you do,â you assure him.
âI know you wouldn't,â he murmurs, turning to face you again. His blue eyes glow in the low lighting of the fire. The closeness between the two of you is dizzying, and electrifying, and -
âAnd I want you to know that I would never judge you for giving into this torture,â he adds.
You snort a laugh. âI'm starting to think you want me to give into this.â You mean for the statement to sound light-hearted, but a sharp pang in your gut makes you wince in pain and your voice goes shrill. You clutch your lower belly, hunching over at the pain.
He leans in closer, putting one hand on your lower back and one on your thigh. You whimper at the pressure of his fingers against your spine and inner thigh. Even through your clothes, the contact feels like heaven compared to hell you've been enduring for the last twelve hours.
You lean into his touch - you don't even think about it, you just do it. You rest your head in the crook of his neck, your forehead nuzzling the warm skin of his throat.
You take a deep inhale, attempting to steady your breathing, and you realize quickly that is a mistake - his scent is so euphoric, it feels like inhaling flames.
âWould it make it easier for you if I said that I do want you to give in?â His voice is low, his breath fanning across your face from his position above you.
âFuck, Bucky, you can't say that to me right now,â you whine. You fist your hands into the fabric of his t-shirt, your eyes squint shut.
âLook at me,â he commands. You force your eyes open, pulling your head back enough to look up at him through your eyelashes.
âI want it to be your choice.â He brings a hand up to cup your jawline. His thumb skims the outline of your bottom lip. âBut I would be lying if I said that I'm not relieved that I'm the one here with you, or that I wouldn't enjoy every second of helping you feel better.â
He brings his hands to yours, pulling them away from where they still clutch his shirt. You release your grip, allowing him to hold you by your wrists. He pulls your right hand up to his face, stopping just under his nose. Your brows furrow in confusion, until it dawns on you what it is he's doing.
He inhales deeply, then lowers your hand to his parted mouth. He slips the tips of your index and middle fingers past his lips, and then swirls his tongue around the two digits.
The exact two that had been inside your pussy not even five minutes ago.
Right now, you think you could come from him sucking on your fingers and nothing else.
You don't even try to stop the groan that slips past your lips as you shove your fingers deeper into his mouth. He moans around them as he finishes cleaning them off, the sound sending vibrations up your arm and throughout your body.
You pull your fingers from between his lips and immediately crush your own lips to his in their place. You feel the drug surging through your veins, but this time it's less excruciating - it now feels like pure adrenaline bubbling under your skin, spurring you on.
He opens his mouth to you, your lips and tongue moving with his in synchronicity. It's hurried and messy, and maybe not as romantic as you had imagined it in your head before this night - but it's exactly what you need right now.
He maneuvers you so that you're laying down on the couch, and nestles himself between your thighs. You can feel the hard outline of his erection through the thin material of his sweatpants. He ruts against you, dragging the bulge across your clothed center as he yanks your t-shirt up and over your head. He tosses it somewhere behind the couch before attaching his mouth to one of your nipples and palming the other with the cool metal of his left hand.
You wrap your arms around him, pulling the full weight of his body down against you. You stick your hands up the back of his t-shirt, scratching your nails down the skin of his back.
âI need more,â you gasp out as he pinches your nipple between his teeth, rolling it in his lips. The clothing that separates the two of you feels like a prison. âI need to feel you.â
He pulls away, leaning back to perch on his knees between your legs. Your eyes roam down the chiseled planes of his chest until they land on the defined âVâ shape that disappears into the waistband of his low-hanging pants.
He hooks his fingers into your sweatpants and underwear and tugging them both down past your ankles, then throwing them somewhere across the room with both of your long-forgotten shirts.
His eyes trail your body from your breasts to your thighs, his pupils dilating in the firelight. He splays his hands across the meat of your inner thighs, pinning your legs open wide for him. He lowers himself back down on the couch, belly down so his face hovers just above your pussy.
âBucky, I swear if you don't put your mouthââ
He laughs, a deep, throaty chuckle before his tongue slips between his lips. It darts to your hole, licking a soft strip up to your clit. You exhale a sharp hiss of pleasure, your hands shooting to lace your fingers through tendrils of his hair. You arch into his touch, meeting the thrusts of his tongue with thrusts of your hips. He eats like you're the best thing he's ever tasted - like he's wanted this for way longer than this drug has been in your system.
You're coming on his face in an embarrassing amount of time, really. Thanks to the influence of the pollen, you currently have the stamina and endurance of a teenager losing their virginity. Your thighs are clenched around either side of his head, writhing above him as you ride out your orgasm on his face.
The relief that you feel as you come down from your high feels like years of pent up frustration leaving your body all at once.
You don't quite feel entirely like yourself - there's still a dull ache in your core, and your skinâs still feverish - though that could be due to the fire that the two of you are just feet away from. But you're now able to see the light at the end of the tunnel.
âCome here,â you whisper, your voice low and honeyed. He crawls over you, his chest brushing against yours as he centers himself above you. His skin shines with a thin layer of sweat that mingles with your own. You reach a hand between your two bodies, palming his erection through the sweatpants that he has yet to shed. You keep your eyes locked on his face, watching as his eyes roll back into his head and his teeth clamp down on his bottom lip as you massage him through the fabric. Your other hand juts down to the waistband of his pants and you tug them downwards, far enough to help him shimmy them down to his knees.
His cock springs forward and he takes himself in his flesh hand, pumping his length several times before teasing your folds with his tip. He collects your slick along his length, lubricating himself before nudging his head just past your entrance.
You're more than ready for him - hours of desperation in addition to already having come on his face leaves you needing no further preparation before he's filling you up with his impressive length and girth. There's a slight burn at the sheer fullness of it, but there's also a wave of relief that your body has been craving for hours.
He pulls out halfway, then rocks back into you. He starts slow - trying to hold back for his own sake or for yours, you're unsure. Gradually, he increases his speed, hitting your cervix at that sweet angle that not everyone knows how to work. You lean forward, raising your head enough to capture his lips in yours once more.
You taste yourself on him - a dichotomy of sweet and salty mixed with something entirely unique. He brings his flesh hand in between your bodies, lowering his fingers to your clit where he begins rubbing pressured circles. You moan his name into his mouth and he responds by biting your lip between his teeth, his movements becoming messier.
âYou gonna come on my cock?â he asks in a low growl when he feels your pussy clenching around him. âGonna fill you up and make you feel all better.â
His words send you tumbling over the edge for the second time - that telltale warm coil in your belly bursting at the same time that he begins spilling his warmth into you.
He collapses, pinning you between his body and the couch beneath you. Starting at your shoulder, he peppers kisses along your collarbones and up your neck until heâs finally eye-level with you.
âWe can do that again,â he says in a breathy voice, still inside you. âIf you need to, that is. Or if you just want you.â There's a mischievous grin spread across his face and a twinkle in his eyes. It's the most carefree you've seen him since the two of you left New York to come here for this mission. You put your hands on his chest, jokingly attempting to shove him away from you.
âOh, I don't think I need to,â you jab at him. âI'm feeling pretty great now, but thank you for your services.â He laughs, pulling out of you and sitting back against the couch. He pulls you up with him, wrapping his flesh arm around your waist and tucking you into his side. âBut I think I might want to again. You know, now that I'm no longer in excruciating pain.â He hums in agreement, stroking his flesh fingers across the side of your stomach.
âI'm glad you were the one here with me too, Bucky."
thank you for reading! i know sooo many people have done this trope, especially for bucky, but it's truly one of my all time favorites and i just needed to get this out of my system so i hope you all enjoyed
comments and reblogs are always appreciated!!
other works by me: oil & water âą down bad âą acquainted âą
#bucky barnes x reader#bucky x reader#bucky barnes#bucky barnes smut#bucky barnes x you#bucky x you#bucky barnes one shot#bucky barnes oneshot#bucky barnes one-shot#bucky barnes imagine#bucky barnes fanfiction
3K notes
·
View notes
Text
bolted - sylus x reader
three weeks after you had broken up with sylus, you run into each other at a gala. his issue, however, is the fact that you came with a date.Â
!! nsfw, smut, fem!reader, exes to lovers, pwp, 18+
!!! not set in l&ds universe, reader not mc, pet names, cursing, might be angsty idk, jealousy, semi-public sex, multiple orgasms, cunnilingus, mirror sex, dirty talk, teasing, hair pulling, creampie, unprotected sex, fluff if u squint really hard, lightly proofread
wc. 2.4k
reblogs appreciated!
nsfw under the cut. minors dni
For the months you were dating Sylus, every one of your Friday nights had been reserved. Your own weekly ritual of being dressed in matching designer brands and attending various events: corporate galas, charity balls, and black-tie parties, to name a few.Â
For the past three weeks, every one of your Friday nights has been spent alone, completely free of plans.Â
Three Fridays have passed since you have shown your face at the social gatherings you so frequently attended. Three Fridays have passed since you officially broke up with Sylus.Â
Admittedly not your wisest decision. Sylus was a man of endless wealth, influence, and power. Your own status in society is not at all insignificant; but there is a part of you that still feels inferior.
Because you heard the cruel gossip about your relationship behind your back: whispers of she doesnât belong here and Sylus would be better off with me. Because you felt as though you were holding him back. Because you were scared that he would be the one to leave first. And though you love him, you left because he deserves someone better.Â
But for the first time in three Fridays, you finally allow yourself to regret leaving. You allow yourself to miss your comfortable routine: Sylus buying an entirely new outfit for you to wear, sneaking out of parties together long before they were set to conclude, and ending the night on your couch with whichever takeout meal and show fit your mood that night.
The only reason you have the strength to drag yourself out of your weeks-long slump now is because of the invitation you received not long ago from some gentleman in your network, asking you to accompany him to tonightâs event: a fundraising gala at one of the cityâs many national museums.
Of course, you have absolutely no interest in entertaining the man who invited you, you only know for certain that you would see Sylus tonight.Â
It doesnât take long for you to lose your date. As adamant as he was about getting you to go with him, he proved himself to be quite inattentive now that he had gotten your agreement.Â
You are by yourself now, in spite of the crowd of event-goers drifting around where you stand in the extravagant ballroom, moving from one conversation to another.
The heels you wear add a few inches to your height. Not enough, however, as you can hardly see over the head of whichever wealthy socialite is in front of you.
Youâre embarrassed to acknowledge the growing disappointment brewing in your chest as you fail to spot a familiar head of white hair.Â
Never mind the embarrassment of admitting that you are here for Sylus in the first place. You were the one that ended things, after all. What would you even say to him if you do happen to run into one another? Maybe seeing him would be enough. Enough for what? This was a bad idea, you begin to think.Â
That is, until you are suddenly very aware of Sylusâ presence.Â
It is first the undeniable heat radiating from something, someone, behind you. Itâs then the penetrating scent of bourbon and cinnamon invading your senses. Rather, the scent of trouble.Â
âLooking for someone, Kitten?â It is finally his rich, husky voice that breaks through the crowd. Your heart skips a beat.Â
You donât give him the satisfaction of turning to face him just yet. âIâm not your kitten.â
âOh? But you are, donât forget.â His voice becomes dangerous, and his sly hand sneaks itself around your waist from behind, âDone running away from me yet?âÂ
Sighing, you turn, simultaneously facing him and shifting just enough to make his hand slip away.
âWhat do you want, Sylus?â
"You've always given me so much attitude.." He ignores your question. If he notices the desperation in your tone, he doesnât show it. âAre you having fun going about your night with your arm around that moron?â
âHeâs not a moron. And yes, Iâm having plenty of fun, not that itâs of your concern.â You donât know why you feel the need to defend your date or why you feel the need to lie to Sylus. After all, you werenât having fun.Â
âLies,â he immediately accuses. âDo not think that I have forgotten what you look like when you are being dishonest with me. Especially when you are doing so in an outfit that I bought you myself.â
The low purr of his voice easily sends shivers down your spine. He had gotten nearer as he spoke, his face now mere inches from your own, his eyes bearing into yours.Â
âEverything you do concerns me.â He comes impossibly closer, speaking directly into your ear now. âBesides, anybody here can tell, Sweetie, you are too out of that idiotâs league. Not your wisest decision.â
Sylus is right. No one can miss how your dateâs eyes unfocus, zoned out, whenever you speak. Or how he never introduces you when he goes to greet the other party guests. He hadnât even noticed you leaving his side and blending into the crowd just moments ago.Â
âI could say the same for you.â You counter. He pulls back, curious, âyou donât seem all that interested in your date either, and sheâs your type, isnât she.âÂ
You donât hide the fact that youâve seen the various magazine articles and social media posts, all featuring Sylus and the new woman by his side as the main image. Sheâs obviously gorgeous. And, you discover with a quick web search, is also from an extremely well-off family with much more influence than you could imagine.
Though you hadnât seen her tonight, you donât need to be a genius to figure out that Sylus is here with her tonight as well.Â
âI have no romantic feelings towards that woman, if thatâs what youâre worried about.âÂ
âBut youâre still here with her.â
âShe isnât you, you know.â
âI didnât know that mattered.â
Now itâs his turn to sigh at you. His turn to be the defeated one.
âCome home, Y/n,â his voice nearly begging as he gets straight to the point, âitâs always been you.â
How could you bring yourself to deny him like this?
You donât know if it was Sylusâ persuasiveness or your own willingness to go back to being his that brought you to where you are now: locked inside one of the museumâs many private restrooms, the noises of music and chatter from the party now a distant murmur.Â
Youâre also: bent over the bathroomâs sink, thanks to Sylus, with the skirt of your dress hiked up to your waist and your underwear pushed down around your knees.
âSylus,â you whine, your legs feel weak with each lick he makes to your pussy.Â
âKeep still.â He commands, tightening the grip on both of your thighs that both kept you in place aa well as spread out for him.Â
âYou taste so fucking good, Baby.â He doesnât move away to speak and the breath from his hot mouth stays directly on your cunt as he does so, the heat eliciting a loud moan from you.Â
His tongue fucks into your hole from where he is crouched behind your open legs. The squelch of your arousal on his tongue and your moans fill the quiet atmosphere of the bathroom.Â
You feel him chuckle behind you before feeling the cold air hit your wet core at the sudden loss of contact.Â
âYâknow, for someone who was just playing so hard to get, youâre really enjoying this arenât you, Kitten?â He teases, and though he stopped eating you out, his hands keep their position on your thighs, massaging them up and down.Â
âShut up.â You push yourself back so that you were practically sat on his face. He, thankfully, doesnât object and gives your clit some much needed attention, sucking hard.
You can feel your climax sneaking up on you and so can Sylus, recognizing the way your moans got breathy and the way you clenched around him when he inserts his fingers into you, intensifying the pressure between your thighs.Â
He continues sucking your clit, lightly grazing his teeth on your sensitive bud. The stimulation startles you at first, heâs never done this before, but it soon turns into euphoria as the pain mixes with pleasure.Â
It all becomes too much for you and your walls finally come crashing down on Sylusâ tongue. He takes you through your orgasm, making it last as long as possible, until you couldnât hold yourself up any longer.Â
Heâs quick to get up on his feet behind you. You immediately come to his understanding and slouch against him, letting him hold up all your weight.Â
âLook at us,â he gestures to your reflections in the mirror. Youâre a mess: your dress straps cling to your upper arms and your face is covered in bliss. Sylus nonetheless towers tall behind you, annoyingly put together as he always is. âItâs like nothing ever changed between us, hm?âÂ
You have to agree with him. The sight is not new to you, and youâre overcome with a sense of fondness for all the times youâve stood like this before.Â
On the outside, your physical states are pure opposites. However, you know that right now, Sylus is as aroused as you are. Youâre suddenly aware of the fact that he has yet to come.Â
Still in your post-orgasmic haze, you try your best to reach behind you to where you assume his crotch is.Â
âAlready canât get enough, Dear?â He teases you but even so, he moves back and pulls out his dick from his pants, simultaneously guiding your body so youâre bent over in the same position you were previously in and sliding his erection between your folds from behind.Â
âRelax. You can take it,â he coos before slamming into your walls without warning.Â
âSylus!â You gasp at the intrusion. Itâs a miracle that you even have the effort to scream his name, it was as if all your breath was taken away.
âStill so goddamn tight as I remember, Sweetie, I thought I told you to relax?â He begins to hammer his dick into your pussy, not sparing you and your sensitivity at all. You squeeze your eyes shut, and your moans and yelps with each thrust fill the room.
âSy, âs too much!â
âYou can handle it. After all, you wanted this.â His tip finds your g-spot and hits it at that same brutal pace. âAre you still thinking about that asshole that you came here with? Hm? Even as im fucking you like this? Have you forgotten him yet?âÂ
In the midst of being fucked, it takes you a second to figure out what, or who, heâs talking about. The truth is that you had forgotten all about the other man once you entered the seclusion of the bathroom you are now in. You donât get a chance to reply before he continues.
âCan he fuck you like I do? Do you think of me when heâs this deep inside of you?â
Your eyes widen at the crudeness of his words.Â
âI- never- we donât-!â Youâre quick to deny his accusations, albeit struggling to get the words out between moans.Â
âSpit it out, Princess. Are you saying he doesnât fuck you at all?â His hips smack against yours, hard this time. âOr are you saying that his dick canât go deep like mine can?â
As he interrogates you, a hand reaches down between your thighs and begins circling your clit. The stimulation is all too much, and youâre still unable to properly speak.Â
âSylus-â
He takes a fistful of your hair and nudges your head up, forcing you to face the incriminating scene reflected in the mirror. âAnswer me.â
You watch yourself shake your head rapidly, still being held up from your hair. âNo! Itâs not like that.. He and I never did it..â
âOh yeah?â He still has the same smirk from earlier in the night on his face, but now his eyes are shrouded in a devious darkness. âThatâs a good girl. If I had found out that he fucked you I mightâve had to kill him.â
He snorts, seeing your shocked expression. âIâm kidding sweetie,â he clarifies. Sylus then lets go of his hold on your hair and your head falls forward with more of his thrusts. âNow keep being my good girl and come for me.â
The exchange is pushed to the back of your mind and youâre reminded of the physical situation that youâre in.
Your eyes roll to the back of your head as your whole body jerks up and down from bouncing back from his.Â
You uncontrollably spasm as you cream around Sylusâ dick, squeezing around him just right. Overstimulated, your jaw hangs open as screams burst from your throat. Afterwards, you become fully limp in his hold.
âFuck. So fuckinâ noisy, huh? Youâre doing so good for me, sweet girl..â
You feel the exact moment he reaches his climax. He thrusts himself one last time into your sore cunt before youâre filled with his cum.Â
You stay there for a while, neither of you bothering to move.Â
After what feels like hours of standing still, Sylus finally pulls out of you. And last moan escapes your lips as he does so.Â
He kneels, pulling up your panties from their bunched up state around your ankles to over your sopping hole before any semen could leak out.Â
âYou think you can keep it inside until we get home?â He asks before leaving a kiss on your clothed cunt and standing to fix your dress, erasing any evidence of your sexual encounter.Â
âAnd when are we getting home, exactly?â You donât comment on the fact that he said âhomeâ as if it was the same place for you. As if nothing had happened between you two. You donât comment because you want both of those things to be true.Â
âNow.â It isnât a suggestion, nor a question, but a statement.Â
âWait, youâre not staying until the gala ends?â
âNo, Sweetie. Weâre not staying until the gala ends.â He laughs as if itâs obvious, âwe both know that I could buy out this whole fundraiser if I wanted to.â
âWhat about our dates?â
âI donât know what youâre talking about. Youâre my date, and Iâm yours.âÂ
#sylus x reader#sylus x you#sylus smut#lads sylus#love and deepspace#love and deepspace sylus#lads x reader#lads#lnds x reader#lnds sylus#sylus fluff#sylus angst#sylus fic#lads fic#l&ds sylus#sylus#sylus love and deepspace#lnds#l&ds#sylus qin#love and deepspace fic
2K notes
·
View notes
Text
Danny, at 17, did not have the best love life. This is partially because two of his must haves in a partner are " Will protect me with their life" and "Will commit unspeakable acts of violence for me" or at least beat someone up for his honor.
Naturally, this doesn't always result in the most stable of partners.
His first girlfriend, Valerie, became an anti-hero and broke up with him for his safety.
He finally got with Sam in sophomore year only for the feds to come into class one day to arrest her. To his surprise, her crimes had nothing to do with ghosts but rather an incident where she went too far and committed a few acts of economic terrorism. Danny and Tucker never really learned the specifics of the crimes, and her parents hushed up as many news outlets as they could, so there wasn't much info to go around. All they knew was that she saved thousands of lives by doing it.
In the end, she was sentenced to eight years, and she broke up with him so that he wouldn't wait around for her to get out.
His third partner was a guy named David who was really sweet. Unfortunately, Danny got kidnapped one day by David's arch nemesis, who was some villain with a corny edge lord name. Yeah. David had become a a super hero after they started dating.
And if you guessed that he freaked out and dumped Danny for his own protection, you'd deserve a cookie.
Danny was noticing a pattern here. One that continued with everyone he dated. They always became some kind of hero before dumping him for his own protection, and it was infuriating. Sure, danny could defend himself, but he was never deep enough into the relationship to reveal his phantom half, and frankly, his hero career was something he left behind when he left Amity and destroyed the portals.
He met Tim at a skatepark after Tim fell off his board cause of some jerk speeding out in front of him on his own board, forcing Tim to stop or else hit the guy. The guy was unrepentant and Tim calmed him down (this did not stop him from melting the guys wheels with an ectoblast when no one was looking).
Tim then asked him to coffee. Danny, noticing how cute Tim was, agreed.
Danny was up front with his parents being mad scientists in Illinois. He always was with all the people he dated. It was better not to hide these kinds of things or worse, wait until you're already attached and afraid of losing them. So he always told potential partners as early as possible. Tim seemed a bit put off by this but was calmer about it than most, and they continued chatting.
Tim didn't seem like the type to turn to heroism or anti heroism so he felt safe on their later dates. It was only after he had known Tim for a while that he put the pieces together.
Tim was always covered in bruises that he hid with his clothes and make up, he had complained about batman over the phone when he thought danny couldn't hear, he was rich, he knew how to fight as revealed by his stances and footwork dispite trying to pretend he didn't, and lastly he held a lot of political power and influence being Bruce Wayne's son. Power he had no reservations using when it suited him or he was just feeling petty (that pettiness was part of why danny was falling for him harder than he thought he could)
No wonder Tim was so okay with his parents being rouges.
Tim was a villain!
At least Tim wouldn't leave him like all his exes. Danny doesn't think he could handle it if he did. Another good thing about this is now he can talk more freely about the more villainous and morally gray ideas and inventions when he was alone with Tim.
Tim didn't see anything wrong with Danny's idea to use something similar to cloning pods to make synthetic meats like rump roasts and steaks as a way to end world hunger and was eager to add to the conversation.
#dpxdc#prompts#fanfiction prompts#brain dead#deadtired#danny phantom#danny fenton#tim drake#red robin#yum#red robin dc#danny: i love my villian boyfriend#imagine when tim finds out#imagine when tims FRIENDS find out they'll never stop teasing him#batman#does danny assume the reast of the waynes are villians too?#danny tells Tim about Phantom after they had been dating for a few months and they've said thier first I Love Yous#sorry ive been gone for like a week ive been having A Time#stressed#some people find cloning immoral even if its just body parts so idk#tim is probably hiding danny from the bats in this lmao#i got a new phone#and it has spell check! can you tell? lmao
3K notes
·
View notes
Text
Demon Brothers as Doms Headcanons
Here it is, as requested by anon! I don't know if these are better or worse than the demon bros as subs version... I honestly can't tell lol. But hopefully you guys enjoy them. I will be doing the side characters, too, so stay tuned for that.
GN!MC x the demon brothers
Side Characters as Doms Bros as Subs
NSFW MDNI
Note: We got another paragraph of warnings. Some of them are a little more detailed, but most of them are just mentioned.
Warnings: Sub!MC, bondage, blindfolds, gags, multiple orgasms, edging, orgasm denial, overstimulation, manhandling, begging, praise, degradation, dirty talk, spanking, collars, dacryphilia, tailfucking (and related tail stuff), drooling, jealousy, cockwarming, mirror sex, exhibitionism, toys, aphrodisiacs, magic stuff, blood kink, biting, size kink, food play, somnophilia, wet dreams, semi-public sex, after care, cuddling, and kissing. HOO BOY. I hope that's all of it, if not lemme know and I'll add stuff.
Lucifer
He has intense dom vibes and he knows it. He will be strict and harsh with you if thatâs what you want, but if left to his own choices, Lucifer becomes a pleasure dom. All he really wants is to make you come over and over and over again. He doesnât care what it takes, heâll use his cock, his fingers, his tongue, anything and everything as long as it makes you cry out his name in ecstasy. He likes the way it makes his pride swell.
Heâs a strong and powerful demon. If he wants you in a certain position, he will put you there himself. He has no problem manhandling you a little, but heâll be careful about it. He very much enjoys tying you up and heâs a master at shibari. His other favorite thing is blindfolding you. He likes when you arenât aware of when heâs going to touch you.
Lucifer is absolutely the type of demon that will do subtle things outside of the bedroom to make you crazy. A hand on the back of your neck, a brief squeezing of your arm, a whispered âbehaveâ or even just a look that says everything. Theyâre all warnings - be careful, MC, or heâll be dealing with you later in private.
He likes to be called sir, but heâs willing to discuss other options. Heâs very bossy, though, and will give you orders constantly. If youâre good and compliant, heâll reward you to the point where youâll probably forget your own name. But if youâre a brat, he wonât hesitate to punish you. He likes to make you wait, so he might tie you up in his office and then not touch you while he works on his stacks of paperwork. He wants to see how long it takes you to start begging.
And begging does him in every time. Because the minute you break down and beg for him, his pride takes over. Heâll smirk and likely tease you and say something about how heâs not surprised that it didnât take long.
But in the end, Lucifer likes to make you moan and cry and come, which means heâll do whatever it takes to get you to do that. Do you have a praise kink? He will shower you with it while heâs deep inside you. Do you have a degradation kink? He will make a point of finding the words that make you clench around him in pleasure.
Mammon
Surprisingly good at being a dom, but far less restrained than Lucifer is. Heâs going to do all kinds of things to get a reaction out of you, but the second you moan his name, heâs moaning right along with you. But not before he takes the time to get your full consent and makes sure you know all your safe words. He wants to go all out, but he wants you to feel safe with him.
Mammon is a bit too impatient to do things like tying you up intricately. Heâs going to go for things like handcuffs or gags. He finds he likes the way you moan low in your throat when your mouth is otherwise occupied. Similarly, he loves when you suck on his fingers. Heâll remove them sooner than he expected, though, because he wants to listen to you beg.
Heâs cautious at first, giving you easy orders to test the waters. If youâre generally obedient, heâll push a little harder, go a little further, see just how much you can take. He will absolutely become a brat tamer, though, so if youâre more inclined to mouth off, you can expect swift punishment. He canât take too much disobedience and heâll get impatient with you quickly. Punishments can range from spankings to orgasm denial depending on how irritated he is. But they donât last long because he just really wants to fuck you silly.
Heâs constantly buying you things to wear. He obviously has a preference for gold, but whatever he just likes to see you on display in something nice. If youâll wear a collar, he will absolutely be thrilled to buy you the nicest one he can find. It makes him a little crazy any time he catches a glimpse of it outside the bedroom.
The King of After Care. When things are calm again, he gets very clingy. Heâs going to want to cuddle you all night, whispering in your ear about how good you were for him, asking you if youâre doing all right. If you endured punishment or any kind of pain, heâll make sure youâre recovering from it. He just loves you so much, MC.
Leviathan
Surprises both you and himself by being a really good dom. Itâs like he flips a switch and suddenly heâs all confidence, but itâs only possible with you. However, it can also get really intense really fast and he might not realize how far heâs going. Communication is key with Levi. You need it to even get him to start being more dominant to begin with, but then you also need it when heâs a little lost in the sauce.
Because he finds that dominating you makes him lose his whole mind. When youâre whimpering or begging, he just wants more and more. He loves to hear you whine his name. He likes it when you cry, so he will try to make it happen. Heâll use pain or insults or anything else he can find that will work. But if it does happen, heâll get soft when he sees the tears on your cheeks. Then heâll start praising you and telling you how perfect you are and how much he loves you.
He likes to use his tail for all kinds of things. Heâll wrap it around your body, pinning your arms to your sides, and put the tip of it in your mouth until youâre drooling around it. Heâll use it to spank you if he thinks youâre in need of punishment. But his favorite thing is just to fuck you with it.
To nobodyâs surprise at all, Levi is a jealous dom. If you so much as look at someone else, he will notice and make you pay for it later. His favorite punishment method is orgasm denial. Heâs trying to make you forget about anyone but him and heâll ask you while heâs edging you who youâre thinking of. He wants to hear you cry and tell him that heâs the only one you ever think about.
Levi will definitely start out with degradation and some dirty talk - heâs likely going to tell you how much of a whore you are for him - but by the end of things, heâll switch to praise. He starts to come out of dom mode and then he actually feels bad. Depending on how you react, he will likely apologize before pampering you to make up for all the nasty things he said. If you laugh at him about it, heâll just blush. He gets embarrassed about how much he can lose himself. Donât hold it against him, MC! Heâs just obsessed with you.
Satan
By far the most balanced dom of all the brothers. Heâs always so careful about keeping his wrath under control, the very last thing he would ever want to do is give in to it during a scene with you. Itâs a tricky balance, but he manages to find a good middle ground. He focuses on you the most, but donât think that means heâll be lenient with you.
Satan is really good at interpreting how youâre feeling in the moment based on how you react to him. Heâs able to tell when he should get more intense and when he should back off. As for himself, he prefers to control you with words. Heâll tie you up if you want him to, but heâs more interested in simply telling you what to do. And heâs clear about what will happen if you disobey.
Although heâs careful about keeping himself level headed when heâs punishing you, just know that he wonât hold back. There really isnât any kind of punishment he isnât willing to employ and heâll find the one that has the most impact on you while still getting his message across.
Definitely prefers praise over degradation. He will be rambling the whole time heâs doing anything with you and itâs all romantic poetry. It starts out really flowery, but eventually kind of devolves into how perfect you are, how good you feel, etc. This is the guy who will spank you and recite sonnets to you at the same time, probably timing his swats with the iambic pentameter.
Satan also really enjoys cockwarming. Heâll have you sit in his lap while he reads, just to see how much you can take. Scolds you gently any time you move too much. Be good and hold still for him, MC. In the end, heâs the one who canât take it, but he frames it as taking pity on you. Youâre both probably aware of the truth, but neither of you will say anything. And anyway, youâre content to let him bend you over and pound into you if it means finally feeling that sweet relief.
Asmodeus
The most versatile of doms, he can be anything you want. You want him strict? Done. You prefer a soft dom? Easy. You just want him to make you come as many times as possible? It would be his pleasure.
If youâre too shy to tell him what you want, thatâs okay, too. Heâs able to feel out what will make you react the most. And thatâs what he goes for. He just wants to experience you losing your mind over him.
He really can do it all, but heâs also going to bring his own flare to the situation. You have sooo much mirror sex. If youâre willing to try exhibitionism, he will really push the limits of that, too.
Asmo will also have a lot of toys, accessories, and clothing items. Heâs always suggesting something new and interesting. You just won't believe what he found, MC! He likes to explore with you, to see what youâll tolerate. This also includes things like aphrodisiacs or magic related things. Heâll always take care of you after you use something like that, but heâs often finding new things to try.
If you donât really give him any guidelines and let him run the show entirely, he will step up to the challenge. It turns out he really enjoys making you submit to him. He finds he has a fascination with your blood. He loves the way it looks against your skin. He also loves to see it on his own lips, so you can be sure heâll be drawing it by biting you.
Asmo really loves to tie you up and have his way with you. He enjoys sensory deprivation - blindfold, gag, etc. - he likes to keep you guessing. He wants you to react to his touch the most, loves the way you shiver in anticipation of what heâll do next.
Mixes pleasure and pain so effectively, you almost canât tell which one youâre experiencing. Heâll be using his fingers masterfully on your sensitive spots at the same time that heâll be digging his nails into your back.
This is his area of expertise, so thereâs no way heâs going to let you go with only one orgasm. Heâs going to make sure you have multiple before he's done with you. He loves overstimulation. If you start crying, heâll coo at you and wipe your tears, but he wonât stop.
Always doms in demon form. He canât help it, heâs fully embodying his sin. No matter what heâs doing with you, he wants you to remember that youâre being dominated by the Avatar of Lust.
Beelzebub
The softest of soft doms. Heâs not really into degradation, so heâs going to shower you with praise instead. Heâs just going to mumble into your skin about how amazing you are and how lucky he is and so on and so forth. But donât think that makes him a pushover.
Beel is a big strong demon and he will manhandle you. Probably his favorite thing is to just sit you in his lap and move you himself. Youâre riding him, but heâs doing all the work.
Heâll tie you up if you want him to, but heâs more likely to use things like blindfolds or gags. Only one at a time, he doesnât want you completely helpless. He secretly likes it when you struggle against him, so he likes to keep your hands free.
Beel has a bit of a size kink where he likes his partners smaller than him, which works out because heâs just generally much larger than most people. Even if youâre larger for a human, thatâs still just a lil cutie to him. This kinda ties into the manhandling thing - he likes to pick you up and move you around himself. And he can do it, too, because of his size and strength. You might as well get used to it at this point.
He doesn't really enjoy inflicting pain. He's far more likely to use positive reinforcement than punishments. But if he has to get serious with you, it's going to be stuff like edging, orgasm denial, or overstimulation. If you're crying it's because of how he's making you feel, not because he's hurting you or insulting you. He finds it's just as effective, too.
If you ask, Beel will do pretty much anything you want. He'll work through the discomfort of hurting you if you enjoy it.
As always, Beel loves food. He'll involve any kind of food play he possibly can because he really can't help himself. It's like the ultimate expression of his sin - to involve food in these intimate moments with you.
Another one who will be incredibly attentive during after care. He wants to make sure you're okay. He will stay beside you as long as you need him. Probably brings you drinks and snacks, too. He's already been praising you all night, but prepare yourself for even more. You are everything to him, MC.
Belphegor
Kinda lazy for a dom, to nobodyâs great surprise. He enjoys being one, but he tires out quickly. If he can make you do all the work, he will. Expect him to give you a lot of orders.
He really loves when you beg. He wants to see you on your knees and if you beg enough, heâll fill your mouth with his cock. You look so good, MC.
Heâll leave you tied up and unattended, too. Heâll just sit there and watch you, see how much you can handle before he does anything.
Belphie is, of course, into somnophilia. If you give him the go ahead, itâs going to be any time he wakes up with you in his arms. If youâre still sleeping soundly, he wants you to stay asleep, heâll just take care of things himself. But if you do wake up, he'll probably whisper quietly in your ear about how he's just making all your wet dreams come true. In fact, we also know Belphie can go into dreams, so⊠you can expect your normal dreams to become wet dreams if he shows up.
He likes exhibitionism and semi-public sex. He likes fucking you in places where youâre right next to other people, but youâre still trying to stay hidden. So heâll use his hand to cover your mouth, trying to muffle your noises. But itâs only because he likes the way it feels to gag you that way. He doesnât actually mind if youâre discovered.
He likes dirty talk and degradation. He will absolutely call you all kinds of filthy names. Itâs not all like that, though, heâll also throw in some praise. Especially when youâre whimpering beneath him and he's losing control because he feels so good. That's when he starts telling you how good you are.
Belphie is kind of an after care guy by default. After he's had his way with you, even if he was really rough (which he probably was), he just wants to snuggle and cuddle and sleep. He'll also kiss you slowly and softly and lazily because he likes the way your lips feel.
side characters as doms | bros as subs | side characters as subs masterlist | Thank you for reading!
#I think you can tell I'm getting more comfortable with my own debauchery lol#it was only possible because y'all encouraging me#obey me#obey me nightbringer#obey me smut#obey me lucifer#obey me lucifer x reader#obey me mammon#obey me mammon x reader#obey me leviathan#obey me leviathan x reader#obey me satan#obey me satan x reader#obey me asmodeus#obey me asmodeus x reader#obey me beelzebub#obey me beelzebub x reader#obey me belphegor#obey me belphegor x reader#obey me x reader#x reader#misc naughty times#misc writes
2K notes
·
View notes
Text
So you know how in Percy Jackson, Amazon the company, is actually the Amazons, the group of warrior women.
That means Jeff Bezos isn't real in Percy Jackson and is just a fake person the Amazons made up to be their CEO.
So now I have this image in my head of a bunch of Amazons huddled around a table trying to come up with the concept of Jeff Bezos.
"Make him bald!"
"Ooh! And make him evil, as all men are!"
"What evil things does he do?"
"Oh um..."
"Uhh..."
*Voice from the back * "He doesn't let his workers use the bathroom?"
"Oh that's awful."
"Quick add it to the list!"
"What should his name be?"
"Hunter?"
"No, that's not quite right."
"Steve?"
"No, another ancient power has already made a false figurehead for a company with the name Steve. They may accuse us of copying them."
"How about Jeff?"
"It's perfect!"
Just a couple of badass warrior women trying to come up with their corporate mansona.
#percy jackson#percy jackson and the heroes of olympus#percy jackson heroes of olympus#heros of olympus#amazons#the amazons#pjo#hoo spoilers#pjo hoo#hoo#pjo universe#pjo headcanon#percyjackson#percy jackson and the olympians
2K notes
·
View notes
Text
Daddy Can Fix It
handyman!Joel Miller x fem!plus size!Reader
Word count: 5.4K
Summary: All the housewives in your neighborhood rave about the local handyman. And with very good reason.
WARNINGS: 18+ Only! Explicit. Reader is plus-size, wears dress and lingerie, has hair and body hair, and manicure. Reader's age not mentioned so there is only as much or as little of an age gap as you'd like. TW - fat shaming, food shaming, infidelity (by reader, and it's technically warranted) Pet names (daddy for Joel; sugar, darlin', baby, sweetheart for reader). Housewife/trad-wife vibes. Totally a bored housewife fantasy. Mention of female masturbation. Breast/nipple play, oral (f & m receiving). Fingering. Body worship. Pussy pronouns. Unprotected piv (Joel is snipped, but still.. this is fiction). Light spanking. Rough sex. Creampie. Joel's kind of a big ol' slut for the lonely housewives but is also really useful around the house, so you're definitely getting a good deal đ ïž
Author's note: it's been a hot minute since I've written a one-shot for Joel but it was impossible to resist. It all started because of this pic:
so yeah, Pinterest strikes again. How could I not write a Joel fic based on this? I hope y'all enjoy đ
JOEL MILLER MASTERLIST | FULL MASTERLIST
"He can come clean my pipes anytime."
Raucous laughter erupts from the group of ladies huddled near the cupcakes at the latest book club meeting. You listen from the other side of the room where one of the older members is asking you to help her with her Kindle. "I never know how to keep up with all this fancy technology," Marion huffs, adjusting her bifocals.
You're trying to be patient with her, but the conversation across the room is far more intriguing. "It just needs to be charged. Your battery is low," you say three times before Marion can even hear you.
When you've managed to extricate yourself from her, you go up to the ladies and, with a friendly smile, join in. "I couldn't help overhearing."
Some of the women exchange glances, as if deciding to let you in on their convo or not. "Becky's just showing us that she got her kitchen cabinets redone," someone finally pipes up.
"That's not all she got," another starts to crack up.
You look at Becky's phone screen. The before and after shots of her cabinets are nothing short of miraculous. "That's great, Becky! I know you've been asking Gerald for a renovation for awhile," you tell her, hoping she'll be pleased you remember the plight she droned on about for weeks.
"It is great," she says, eyeing you with something like suspicion. "I have a very good handyman."
"He does everything," a nicer girl, Isabelle, chimes in.
"Boy does he," another mutters, hiding her smirk behind her cup of lemonade while the others giggle behind their hands.
Amirah adds, "He varnished my dining room table, power washed my driveway, helped organize my garage," she counts on her fingers. "He's good for little things around the house, and his prices are decent."
"It's like he's just giving it away," Becky says with a smirk and this gets the group laughing again.
"Maybe you can give me his information later," you say politely. "I have a laundry list of things that I need help with now that Wesley's working so much overtime."
The women eye one another, and it's Amirah, the leader of the group, who gives the definite nod. "Of course, sweetie. After the meeting."
"Great!" Smiling, you try to make your way through the group, saliva pooling in your mouth at the tower of red velvet cupcakes on the table spread. You reach for a couple more.
"You've already had three," Becky reminds you, casting a not-so-subtle glance at your body. Her voice sweet as honey but her words carry poison. You know you're not as thin or as glamorous as the other women in this room. You dress the same as them, wear your hair perfectly coiffed and your nails are always manicured, but just because you're not a size zero they deem you unworthy to truly be one of them.
You hold your head high with what little courage you have in the face of Becky's bitchiness, your sinful little cupcake in your hand. "I actually had three. And right now I'm about to make it five," you say sweetly, licking a swipe of cream cheese icing before putting two cupcakes on a china plate and going back to your seat.
That night, Wesley doesn't ask about your book club. He doesn't ask how your day was. He doesn't do much except pour himself a drink when he gets home and sit in front of the TV to watch the news.
You're dressed for bed, a modest robe over a red silk babydoll chemise, a purchase you'd made on a whim in the hopes that you could spice up your sex life with him which, truth be told, has never been more than lukewarm from the start.
"Do you think we should.. go to bed?" you suggest, a naughty tone to your whisper.
"It's early," he grunts, barely giving you a glance.
"I just thought we could spend some time together.." you brush your hand across his knee but he impatiently swipes it away.
"Please, darling, it's a weeknight," he looks at you as if you'd just suggested a threesome with him and the milk man. As he leaves the room he looks back at you, but the hope that rises in your chest is soon shattered when he shakes his head upon seeing your lingerie. "Red is for streetwalkers," he tells you before he goes into his study.
Daddy Can Fix It
You run your finger over the business card Amirah gave you, with all the handy man's information. The card shows his white company van with the logo emblazoned on the side: Joel Miller, Handyman At Your Service so it says in black lettering. There's a phone number and a website as well.
You dial the number, expecting to hear a secretary's voice, but you're greeted with a rich, baritone "Good mornin', thanks for callin' Daddy, what can I fix for ya today?"
Jesus, the voice alone is enough to get you flustered. And Daddy? You weren't expecting that. "Um, hi, I got your number through a friend and I'd like to see if you're available to come mow the lawn today." You peek out your curtains, seeing how the grass has grown taller than you'd like since the last time Wesley has cared enough to cut it.
"You got a lawn mower, sugar?"
"Yes, I do, um.. daddy.."
You hear him chuckle on the other end of the line. "You can call me Joel."
"Joel. Yes, I do. Is there anything else you'll need?" New to the housewife lifestyle, you're still unsure of how to make such appointments. Before you met and married Wesley, you just mowed the lawn yourself, but your husband refuses to hear of his good and proper wife performing a menial act.
"Got any bushes that need trimmin'?"
You aren't sure why that particular sentence makes you feel the blood rush to your face. "I typically keep up with it on my own, when I'm tending to my garden."
Joel gives a small chuckle and it warms your insides. "That ain't no problem. Today around eleven good for ya?"
"Eleven sounds perfect."
"Pricing'll be about fifty, but we can come to an agreement once the job is done."
"Wonderful. I look forward to seeing you." You give him your name and address, hanging up with a sense of accomplishment.
His van appears in your driveway just a minute before eleven. You're impressed with his timeliness. What you don't expect is the gorgeous stranger on your doorstep.
Joel Miller is tall, broad-shouldered, skin bronze from working out in the sun, and his dark brown hair is greying handsomely. If you had to guess his age you'd say fifties. He's in a grey tee shirt and work jeans. What stand out to you the most are his eyes: almost black in color, appraising you as you wait in the doorway, prim and proper housewife, lips parted, eyes wide.
He asks for you by name and you nod, chuckling slightly.
"If you can show me where the lawn mower is I'd be happy to get started," he offers, and the voice you recognize from the phone makes you melt.
You lead him outside to the garage and he takes out the mower, filling it up with some gasoline first. "Is there anything else you need?" you ask politely.
"No ma'am," he looks over his shoulder at you as he pushes the machine to the front yard. "Get inside and get outta this sun. I'll handle it from here," he smiles and it makes you want to giggle like a schoolgirl.
From inside you watch him through the window, deftly maneuvering the lawn mower over, trimming the grass to a neat, short length. It's not yet the hottest hour of the day, but you see him sweating, and when he stops a moment to remove his shirt, you suddenly feel your pulse in the deepest part of your cunt. You wonder what it would be like to lick up every drop of sweat off his chest.
Like a slow motion scene from a movie, you watch the motion of his arms, the rippling of his back as he guides the machine over the lawn. Biting your lip you take in the sight of him, the determination on his face redirecting your thoughts to how he would look above you: hot, sweaty, hard, plunging into your drenched pussy.
How long has it been since you've had a man? Wesley prefers his Saturday nights like clockwork. But you want more. Stupidly thinking marriage was the best way to be treated right and fucked properly, you realized it was not the title but the man, and the particular man you chose was lacking in all area which mattered.
You aren't even sure you love him anymore.
But right now, watching Joel is a treat, and fantasizing about him is a little secret you'll harbor for later in the day when you'll inevitably find yourself using the showerhead attachment.
He finishes the front and back yards, and through the blinds you peep him putting his shirt back on, running a hand through his wavy curls before putting the mower away and coming to your door.
You answer it before he knocks. "Thank you!" is the first thing that comes out of your mouth. "Please come in and we can settle payment."
He cleans the bottoms of his boots on the welcome mat before stepping inside your home and following you to the kitchen. "You have a very nice home, ma'am."
"You're too kind," you're modest about his compliment, but it's thrilling to have someone say something nice about the hard work you put into keeping house. "Would you care for some iced tea? I've just made it fresh."
"I won't say no to that," he chuckles lightly, and you're happy to fill a glass with some of the fresh-brewed tea over ice.
Joel leans back against the sink, pouty pink lips pressed to the glass as he tips it back, opening just enough to take a sweet sip. You watch his Adam's apple bob up and down as he swallows, and you wish you could lick a stripe up along his the length of his delicious-looking neck to collect all the sweat that's beaded there.
"Is there anythin' else you need help with today?" he asks, his question carrying a hint of something more.
You blank for a moment, getting lost in the depth of his obsidian eyes, still caught up in your little fantasy. "No.. no, I don't think so." Taking a look around your eyes dart to every corner, taking mental stock of the upstairs rooms as well. "No," you finalize with a smile.
"If you're sure.." he says in that same low tone.
You give him fifty dollars and chat a little while he finishes his drink.
"If there's nothin' else I'll get goin'. Feel free to call me again if you need somethin' done, or looked at. Ain't nothin' I can't fix," he winks at you on your doorstep and you feel a waterfall in your panties.
Isabelle calls later in the day. "So? You had Joel over today, right? How'd it go?"
Dinner is in the oven and there's about an hour before your husband gets home. Phone on speaker, you start peeling potatoes. "It was fine. He did a great job. I'm sure I'll use him again."
Over the line you hear Isabelle sigh. "Isn't his dick beautiful? I swear, just thinking about it gets me so wet!"
You nearly slice a finger off, shocked by her words. Even though you're alone in the house, you pick up the phone and take it off speaker. "What are you talking about?"
"I think it's at least eight inches, and the way it curves at the end," Isabelle sounds like she's moaning.
"Okay, I'm lost. I hired the handyman that you and the others referred. That's who came over today."
"Exactly, dear! Did he fuck you? You don't have to give details of course."
Your brain is put on pause as only silence fills your throat.
"Oh dear," Isabelle continues. "You didn't know?"
"Know what?"
She sighs, possibly settling herself on her chaise longue out by her pool she's so proud of. "Joel Miller is a handyman, yes. But we also pay him a little extra for other services."
"Oh." You sink onto the living room settee, the closest thing to you.
"Mm-hmm. Mind you, it's not an all-the-time thing. But we've all had him. It's just something fun. You get some help around the house with your honey-do list, and then a good fucking after. Or whatever pleases you."
"And you.. you've.. slept with him?"
"I wouldn't call it sleeping, honey, but yeah I've been with him. It's all for fun. Nobody really takes it seriously."
"And everyone else at the book club?"
"Pretty much. Do you really think any of our husbands could compare to that god of a man Joel Miller?"
No, no you doubt any man could hold up to the stud who'd just helped you with the lawn.
He's on your mind constantly, but as tightly as Wesley keeps his wallet to himself, you can't validate having Joel's help every day. You make the choice to wait until the following week.
And what a long wait it is. Jealously you wonder whose house he's going to. Jackie down the street? Bitchy Becky with her face like a rat, no tits and no ass?
You consider calling Isabelle to beg for the details (which she'll probably give you without a fuss anyway). But a sordid part of you wants to find out for yourself. You already know he's well-endowed. He's at least twice as big as Wesley, who wouldn't know what to do with a big cock if he was blessed with one overnight.
A week to the day since he made his last visit, Joel comes back to replace the batteries in your smoke alarms. It's a job you've done yourself, perching on a stepladder, but it'll be more fun to have Daddy fix it.
The phone call to schedule him was practically foreplay. That smooth-as-chocolate voice had your panties drenched. When he's finally here, inside your home, inside your needy little cunt.
Your eyes rove over his form as he uses your stepladder, only needing the first rung. It doesn't stop you from staying right there with him, holding it steady on the other side. You hear his little grunts as he gets to work, watch his thick, strong fingers handle the batteries with a delicacy you can imagine he uses in other things.
Licking your lips, you realize you're face-to-face with the faded blue denim crotch of his jeans, those Levis hugging him tight in all the right places.
"I'm 'bout done here," he says, putting the smoke detector back in its place. "Anythin' else you need help with, lil' darlin'?"
Your hand presses to the bulge in his jeans, and you're delighted when you feel him twitch in response. "As a matter of fact, I do need your help with something else.."
"That right?" he murmurs, pressing your hand against him, letting you feel him grow hard under his palm. "Been waitin' to see if you'd ask.."
He steps down, keeps his dark eyes on you. "Pretty lil' thing like yourself don't get enough attention, huh?" he whispers, brushing his thumb across your cheek.
Softly you sigh, unashamed at how needy you've been for a simple touch. "No.. but I'd like you to help with that."
"That's what I'm here for, darlin'," he smiles, his thumb tracing your soft plump lips. "What do you want me to do, baby?"
"Everything," you answer quickly. "I'm not.. really sure what the usual is.."
His smile is kind as his hand traces down your neck, leaving goosebumps to rise on your skin. "You want me to fuck ya, give ya somethin' nobody else is doin'.. that it?" He places your hand back on his bulge and you respond by rubbing him, your own cunt pulsing around nothing in excited expectation.
"Yes.. I need to get fucked," you agree emphatically, pulling him into your bedroom.
Now he's here, in your room, and you think you're dreaming. He's letting you take the lead, completely at your service. All the women in your book club were probably more open with their desires, knowing immediately what they wanted and how to get it. All the fantasies about Joel you've created and harbored in the deepest part of your heart are now as impalpable as gossamer.
"You tell me what you want, honey," he drawls in that molasses-rich voice of his. His hands gently trace your waist, smoothing down your dress as he moves towards your curvaceous hips. "God damn, I bet you look fuckin' gorgeous outta this dress. Wanna show me?"
Biting your lip, you nod, tugging off your apron and dropping it to the floor. Not gonna be a damn housewife while he's with me..
A tiny smirk on your face, you gently push Joel back onto your bed, and he rights himself with an equally mischievous smile as he watches you. He palms his hard cock through his jeans as you do a little striptease, tantalizing him as you slip your prim flower-print dress off your shoulders.
"There we go, baby," he growls as the dress falls down to your hips, your scarlet satin bra revealed, your breasts practically spilling over the cups, making Joel's mouth water. You turn around for his help in unzipping the bottom part of your dress, finally feeling free as it falls away, pooling at your feet.
Joel lets out a wolf whistle as he takes in the sight of you in your ruby undergarments, the same you'd tried to seduce your husband in. Now they're finally being put to good use. "Red's your color, gorgeous," he mutters, his hands on your hips, mapping out your generous curves and the soft rolls of your belly.
You've almost forgotten what it was like, this power to entrance a man and make him see you as the only woman in the world. Marriage to an uncaring and unfeeling idiot had left you cut off from your sexuality. Now you're reclaiming it.
Joel's hands travel back up to your waist, fingers deftly unclasping your bra. He unwraps you like you're the goddamn Christmas gift he's been begging for for months. His tongue wets his lips as your plump breasts are revealed. With one hand on your lower back, the other palms your tit with a rough hand. Your nipple rises to his touch and he dips down to swirl his tongue around it, gently coaxing it further with his teeth. Your head falls back as the sensation zings straight to your cunt. "Fuck, Joel.."
He smiles against the softness of your skin. "Sensitive here, huh? Bet these ain't been properly played with in awhile. Gonna change that right now." And with that he gives another hard suck, his dick already leaking when he hears your needy moan. He treats the other breast with the same attention. You take one of his hands and lead it to the drenched front side of your panties, but he stops you.
"Not yet, baby. Want you to see yourself before I fuckin' ruin ya."
You lay on your side on the bed as you watch Joel undress. It's a sight you won't soon forget: skin tan from working outdoors, with a smattering of chest hair that's also showing some grey, chiseled arms, and a happy trail that leads from his navel to the front of his boxers, which are tented. He wears a little smirk as he pulls them off and your reaction is priceless.
Joel is fucking hung.
You've taken big cocks before, but his is formed of pure fantasy, like a dildo from your favorite sex shop. Isabelle wasn't exaggerating about his size. And his cock is so beautiful you want to cry. Watching as he gives it a couple strokes, all eight thick uncut inches, the rosy pink tip glistens with precum, the veins and ridges prominent. Even the curve Isabelle mentioned is sexy, bound to hit all the right places inside you. His balls, rounded and heavy, move with his motions.
Thank God I did my yoga this week.
You beckon him to you, pulling the boxers away completely and dipping your head to taste him. Your tongue laves across the salty slit of his tip, and you relish the hitch of his breath. He's not here for you to please him, but it gets you wet wrapping your lips around his cock, suctioning your mouth and stroking upward from his base. When you start to massage his balls he stops you. "Don't wanna shoot too soon, baby," he says breathlessly.
He pulls you up off the bed and into a kiss, his hands playing along the edges of your panties as his tongue tastes yours. His cock, still wet from your mouth, nudges against your soft belly. "You deserve to feel good," he whispers, tucking a strand of hair behind your ear, his tongue tracing the outline. At last he pulls your panties down, a rumble in his throat when he sees the sweet glaze between your thighs, glistening in your triangle of hair.
"Sit on my lap, baby. With your back to me," he orders in a soft growl.
His flesh is warm beneath yours, and god it feels good just to be touched again, to feel desired by someone. You haven't known it in so long. He sits back against the headboard, moving the pillows on either side. His arm instinctively wraps around your waist as he leaves soft, feathery kisses across your shoulder.
"So soft," he murmurs. "C'mon, baby, look at yourself," he nods to the mirror in front of you.
When you catch your reflection you're exhilarated at the sight: you, naked, with Joel behind you, kissing your neck, fondling your tits, thumb brushing over them and lightly pinching them to hardened peaks. "Spread your legs for me, baby," he whispers, getting started by brushing his hand from your knee to your petal-soft inner thigh.
It's lascivious, watching all this unfurl before you in the mirror. You're spread open, on full display. Your pussy is gushing over with need, and you trace your folds with your fingers.
Behind you, Joel's cock twitches, and he rubs himself lightly against your back. "Lemme do that.." he whispers, gently pulling your hand away, bringing your fingers to his mouth and sucking your juice off them. "So sweet," he murmurs, and your belly is hot with lust.
His touch is soft and careful at first, exploring you and figuring out what you like, what you need. It feels like he's memorizing every inch of you. His thick fingers glide over your lips, circling, teasing you so you'll beg him for more.
"Joel," you whine, lifting yourself to him, trying to get his hand to position itself where you need it most. But he evades you, a dark chuckle emanating from deep in his throat. "You're payin' me to do a job and I wanna do it right. Not fair to rush me."
Your eyes close in frustration. "Joel, please.."
"Nuh-uh. Daddy."
"Fuck," you whimper. "Please, daddy."
"That's more like it." His touch finds your clit, throbbing and needy, and you nearly see stars at the feeling. He presses once again before sliding two fingers into your warm, welcoming cunt. "Christ, she's really suckin' me in there," he grunts, shifting behind you as his dick becomes nearly impossible to ignore.
"Yes," you moan at the sweet intrusion, the easy glide of his fingers in your drenched pussy. "Just like that."
"So fuckin' tight," he says through gritted teeth. And Jesus, his fingers are thick, the calloused thumb swiping over your clit, making you twitch and your hips arch up for more. "She's pulsin' around me," he mutters, his rich voice in your ear, lips brushing against your lobe. His fingers glide in, stretching you as you coat him.
"Ah, she's gettin' all creamy for me," he coos as he pulls them out a moment, licking off one finger and giving the other to you. You taste yourself, salty and sweet, humming in appreciation as you release his digit from your mouth with a pop.
He returns to his work, his hand pistoning against your folds, the squishy sounds of your soaked cunt beautifully obscene to your ears. Your voice trembles as you cry out, a sweet vibrato that resounds throughout the room as Joel's fingers curl in on your g-spot. He adds a bit more pressure to your clit as he tries to get you there. Moaning, he nuzzles his face into your neck.
It feels like you break open under his touch, hips arching up, swallowing his delving fingers deeper inside you as you spasm uncontrollably around him, a string of curses falling from your lips.
You barely have time to recover before he's on you again, moving in front of you as you lay against the pillows, like Venus in a Titian painting. His hands lift your thighs, softly kneading their thickness as he plants kisses on either side, trailing up to your cunt, your scent all around him.
"My husband never goes down on me," you whisper, heart racing as quick as a hummingbird's wings.
"Ain't he a waste of fuckin' space," Joel grunts, a wicked gleam in his eye as he dives in, flattening his tongue to lick a stripe upwards to your needy, throbbing clit. Your hands grab at his hair, pushing him forward as his groan is muffled by your sweet, saturated pussy.
"God.. damn!" you gasp at the delicious feeling of his tongue on you, lapping up every drop, tracing your lips and tickling your clit. He's relentless in his pursuit of making you come, switching up the tempo, adding a finger and then another, praising you when you cry out again. "Squeezin' so hard on me.. she's just about ready, ain't she?" Before he finally suctions his lips around your puffy clit and sucks, humming around it.
It's as if your soul leaves your body for a precious few moments, muttering monosyllables in sweet relief. You've never come so hard before, ever. And when you look up at Joel you wish you could worship him.
"Like the sweetest tea I ever drank," he says, licking his lips.
"Fuck me, Joel," you whine, still not fully come down from your climax.
"C'mere," he growls, putting you on all fours so you're facing the mirror again. You look at your reflection: hair mussed, eyes shining bright, skin glowing from your orgasm. Joel lines himself up behind you, smiling as you watch yourself. "Got every right to look at yourself, darlin'.. someone as fuckin' hot as you, with these hips, this ass?" He grabs one cheek and gives it a slap. You gasp, jolting forward, then wiggle your ass at him, wanting more.
"You a naughty lil' thing," Joel smirks, teasing your folds with his tip. "Wanna get this pretty lil' pussy ruined?"
"Yes, daddy," you moan, pushing back on him.
"Fuck me, I like the way you say that." He bites his lip as he continues teasing you. "Once I fuck you, you'll never let that limp dick husband of yours touch you ever again, I promise you that."
Your reply is cut off when you feel him nudge inside, your walls breached by his thick cock. "Oh god... yes!" you exclaim, clutching the bedsheets. "Fuck.. your cock is so huge.." You can feel the tip just kissing your cervix.
"Yeah, you like it? Like gettin' fucked by this big cock? Gettin' stretched out? Gonna leave a big ol' gapin' hole for your husband to come home to."
He bottoms out, grabbing your ass cheeks with both big hands, watching the smoothness of your skin as your cunt clenches onto him. "God damn what a pretty sight.. you oughta see this. Pussy's barely fittin' me as it is. Only tighter thing would be your little ass.." and he pulls out all the way to slam back in, glorying in the way you scream his name.
"There she goes, gotta get 'er used to me," he grunts, eyes on your swollen pussy lips wrapping his cock in a vise with each steady thrust. "Jesus, sweetheart. So tight I gotta try not to blow my load."
The sound of his name on your lips, the way your body reacts to him, is like gasoline on an already raging fire. "That's it, sweetheart," he murmurs, his voice thick with lust. "Say my name, baby. I wanna hear it." He quickens the pace, pressing deeper inside you.
"Daddy! Daddy!" you shout in time with each delicious snap of his hips. "My god, you're so fucking deep.." you moan.
"That's it, take all of me. You like the way I fill you?"
"Yes daddy!" Your fingers clutch the sheets as the bed rocks with your movements. "So full of you.."
He presses a hand to your abdomen. "Feel me there, baby? All up in your guts. No one else is ever gonna fill you the way I do. No one's ever gonna come close. This needy lil' cunt's gonna be cryin' for me every day until I come back and give her what she needs."
His dirty talk is getting you wetter, your juices running down between your thighs, making his cock all sloppy, the sound of it making you feral for more. "Fuck me, Joel.. fuck me fuck me fuckmefuckmefuckmefuckmefuckme.." you mumble, face down, ass up, slack jawed as you drool on the sheets.
He speeds up, hips slamming against yours, balls thwacking under you. "Yeah? Want me to fill ya up, blow all this fuckin' load inside ya? Got snipped years ago, baby, 's up to you."
"Fill me up, make me dirty and messy," you groan.
"You want daddy to give you everything he's got, baby?" he repeats. "You want me to fill you til you're all messy and drippin' with me?"
"Yes.. yes please," you're barely able to get out.
"Fuck," he growls, grabbing hold of your hips as he pounds into you ferociously. Once he has control he places one hand on your back, keeping you pressed down as he angles himself to hit that delicious little spot inside and he knows he's hit it when you cry out, cursing and shivering, clamping down on him like a damn vise right before he lets go, streaming jet after jet of his hot come inside you. There's so much it's already leaking out while he's still inside you.
The rest of the week you make a list of things for Joel to do next time: perhaps check out what's going on with the washing machine, or maybe he could regrout your bathroom, or help you rearrange your living room furniture right before he rearranges your guts again.
Even Wesley notices the bright and cheery mood you're in, and how attractive you've become since taking on some of the home improvements. That weekend he does you a huge favor, and sits back in his armchair as he waits for you to discover it.
"Wesley? What were you doing in the garage for so long? I heard a lot of noise," you tell him, arms crossed, a look of suspicion on your face.
He looks pleased with himself. "Well honey, you've been so agreeable these past few days that I thought I'd cross off some little projects on your to-do list."
"Like what?" you ask slowly.
He lists off everything you've had planned for Joel to do in the coming weeks. Small things, of course, but Wesley has done all of them, leaving you with nothing for daddy to fix.
"I thought you'd be happy," he says, his face cloudy now that you're unhappy again.
"Happy? Not quite." You leave a moment and return with a hammer, heading towards your husband.
He cowers, ducking as you completely pass him by and swing the hammer into the drywall of the living room wall, over and over again. When you've let your anger out and Wesley is rightfully afraid of your next move, you simply smile sweetly, holding the hammer pressed to your apron with your well-manicured hands. "Looks like I'll have to call the handyman after all!"
dividers by @thecutestgrotto đ
tagging those who showed interest when this baby was still just a wip: @itwasntimethatdidit40 @milla-frenchy @604to647 @inept-the-magnificent @clawdeewritesfanfic @manuymesut @bitccchmood @everybodylovedcontractors
#pedro pascal#joel miller#joel miller x reader#joel miller x you#joel miller x plus sized reader#joel miller fanfic#joel miller smut#joel miller handyman#joel miller fanfiction#ao3 fanfic#pedro boys#pedro pascal character smut#pedro pascal characters#pedro pascal character headcanons#pedro pascal characters fanfiction#pedro pascal character fanfiction#pedro pascal cinematic universe#joel miller au#joel miller tlou#baroness von glitter
702 notes
·
View notes
Text
Chasing Cars | ch 1 (jjk)
âsummary: when your brother goes to study on a semester abroad, your life collides with his best friend Jeon Jungkook, who's coincidentally your roommate. Will you survive the collision, or will you crumble into dust?
âpairings: brother's best friend!Jungkook x younger sister!female reader, Hoseok x female!reader
ârating: 18+ (minors DNI, this chapter contains mature content)
âgenre: forbidden love?au, college!au, slice of life!au, smut, angst (as usual a lot of it), fluff
âwarnings: alcohol, curses, jungkook is lowkey a cocky asshole but we love him, mentions of ghosting (reader to Hoseok), mentions of frosh week, mentions of Nabi spraining her ankle, a frat party, beer pong, Sam Hwang, peach, explicit content: overhearing someone having sex, female masturbation, sex toy (vibrator), praising, nipple play, hickeys, dom!Hoseok, sub!reader, degradation, Hoseok likes being called sir (lmao), whip (sorta, with a belt), choking (with a belt), safe word, oral sex (male receiving), mouth fucking, balls fondling, jerking off, spitting in the other's mouth, Hoseok does not believe in aftercare (rip)
âword count: 11.8k
âa/n: CHAPTER ONE!! LET'S GET THIS JOURNEY STARTED BABY!!! thank you to @moonleeai and @jessikahathaway for beta-ing, you guys are the best <3
âseries masterpost
âadd yourself to the taglist here!
âââââ
If I lay here If I just lay here Would you lie with me and just forget the world?
Chasing Cars, Snow Patrol
âââââ
Thursday, January 17thÂ
If there is one thing youâve figured about Jeon Jungkook, itâs that he is an insufferable prick, yet an endearing one. As your older brotherâs best friend, Jungkook has taken a liking to teasing you, treating you like his own little sister. It was weird at first â the day you met him, you were struck by his looks. Who wouldnât be? Jungkook is tall, has a sleeve of tattoos, and he rocks an eyebrow and two lip piercings.Â
It took you all but three days to realize that he is a too full of himself asshole. And had you known what you were signing up for when Taehyung suggested that you move in with him when his friend Jimin moved out to live with his girlfriend, maybe you wouldnât have accepted.
You love Taehyung. Heâs an incredible brother, has always taken care of you when you were younger and your mother was never home to do so. You love him enough that you didnât mind moving in with him even though there was a third party you didnât know.
Jungkook, that is.
Itâs been months now. Months of living with Jungkook, of waking up to his insufferable smirk and even worse teasing, whenever Taehyung is not around. Because, of course, when your brother is here Jungkook is an angel, never once saying anything to you that could be taken the wrong way.
Thing is, Taehyung has always dreamed of studying abroad, in Paris. Has always wished to experience the French lifestyle, to wake up to eat croissants and gaze at the Eiffel Tower in the distance. So when he got the opportunity to do his winter semester over there, of course he jumped on the chance.Â
Youâve been living alone in the same apartment as Jeon Jungkook for less than a month and you already wish May to be at your door and for Taehyung to come back.
Itâs late. Sometime close to two am, and the bed creaking in the room next to yours, the one banging into the wall, has been keeping you up.
Or maybe the intermittent high-pitched clipped moans are what are keeping you up. Because, mind you, the walls of your apartment are paper-thin. So paper-thin sometimes you think youâre in Jungkookâs room while heâs ramming some girl he probably doesnât even know the name of. Sometimes, you think you can almost picture him. Almost see the muscles of his back move under his skin as he jack-hammers into yet another girl, almost see his powerful thighs slap on hers each time he pushes in, almost see his fucked-out face when he comes with that loud grunt of hisâŠ
You miss Taehyung being around because Jungkook wasnât as loud then. Still brought girls home every Thursday like clockwork, but made sure he wasnât loud enough for the whole building to hear him. With Taehyung gone, Jungkook has stopped caring, and you have been suffering the consequences since then.
In truth, it hasnât been that long. Less than three weeks, and youâve heard Jungkook fuck like four times? You reckon it could be a lot worse⊠but he could also be respectful and not fuck people when youâre trying to sleep because you have a nine am class the next day.
The first time it happened, you were mortified. You listened to music, hoping you wouldnât hear it anymore but, the thing is, his headboard bangs against the same wall your headboard is against. So you still felt it, and you suffered through the whole ordeal hoping you would disappear through the floor.
The second time it happened, you were annoyed. You considered knocking against the wall to tell him to shut the fuck up â or rather to tell the girl to shut the fuck up â but you resisted. Solely because you didnât want to stir shit with Jungkook. You considered asking Taehyung to tell Jungkook to be more respectful, but it sounded childish and stupid so you eventually let it slide.
The third time it happened, you were⊠aroused. Maybe because it had been a long time since you had sex â the last time being in late November with Hoseok, a guy studying in the same major as you, though heâs Jungkook and Taehyungâs age. Yet, even though you felt aroused, you focused on all the ways you were going to murder Jungkook the next day.
Today⊠today the arousal is winning the game. Itâs been making your heart run wild, and your grip on your sheets has your knuckles turning white, skin stretched taut over how hard youâre clenching your fists.Â
And when you hear Jungkook say something that definitely sounds like âGood fucking girlâ, you lose it. Youâre too aroused, dripping from just hearing him, and you need to have the coil inside of you snap if you want to be able to sleep tonight.
With all the sounds emerging from his room, you doubt Jungkook is going to hear you. So you shamelessly rummage through the top drawer of your night table, searching for your vibrator, smiling in victory when your hand closes around it.
Youâre wearing PJ shorts, and you quickly rid yourself of them as the girl lets out a short-clipped moan that makes you think youâre listening to porn, and not to your roommate fucking.
Though you reckon sex with Jungkook really does sound like porn.
You lie back in bed once youâre rid of your shorts, taking a hold of your vibrator. You turn it on, adjusting it to your favourite setting. You feel strange doing so, like youâre doing something you really shouldnât be doing, but you canât help it.
The second you press the vibrator on your clit, you forget all about how what youâre doing is wrong. All you can focus on is the pleasure that radiates through your body, and your eyes close tightly, images of Jungkook swirling in your brain.
When the girl moans again, and Jungkook tells her that sheâs âtaking it so wellâ, your free hand shoots to your breast, pinching your nipple through the fabric of your t-shirt. Itâs not enough, and youâre quick to move it under the shirt. You pinch hard, and you let out a breathy sound as your thighs instinctively close on your wrist.
Jungkookâs headboard starts banging against the wall even more, and your brain produces an image of Jungkook between your legs, fucking you until all you can think is his name. It has you pushing your vibrator inside of you, and you lightly moan again at the pleasurable intrusion.Â
You let go of your nipple, moving that hand to your clit instead, and your fingers expertly start drawing circles on it. You listen to Jungkookâs grunts all along, to the girlâs moans, and maybe youâre a little too blissed out to realize theyâre done, but when you reach your high you canât help the broken moan you let out, a little too loud for the paper-thin walls of your apartment.
As youâre coming down from your high, you realize the apartment is eerily silent, and you swallow the lump of awkwardness thatâs formed in your throat. You wipe your vibrator with some tissue, knowing youâll have to actually clean it on the morrow, but you donât want to kill the silence of the night just so you can put your vibrator back in its hiding spot right away.Â
But youâre not stupid, and you know you need a trip to the bathroom anyway. You put your PJ shorts back on, grab your phone to use it as a flashlight so you donât bump into a wall on the way to the bathroom, and you tiptoe all the way over there, hoping to be as soundless as possible.
You have to walk in front of Jungkookâs room to get to the bathroom, and then halfway across the living room. You notice his door is closed on your way, and you peacefully make it all the way to the bathroom. You quickly pee and clean yourself up, washing your hands before you open the door.
Which, you reckon might have been your demise. Because when you open the door of the bathroom, itâs to let out a high-pitched startled yelp at the sight of a shirtless Jungkook on the other side. The sound of the faucet must have hidden his footsteps.
You stare at each other for a few seconds, and in the dim light, youâre pretty sure Jungkook is smirking.
âCouldnât sleep?â he asks after the silence has started to stretch into awkwardness.
You clench your jaw, gaze dropping to the ground. âYou were disturbing my sleep.â
He chuckles, cocking his head to the side. âWas I now?â
Your eyes shoot back to his face at the low huskiness of his tone, and you wish with all of your heart that you had the courage to punch him in the face. But you donât, so all you reply is, âYou need to start fucking your hookups somewhere else.â
His smirk falls into a pout. âI wonât go over to the girlsâ places. But I can make sure theyâre more silent next time.â
Your brain canât help but wonder if he means âtheyâ as in he was fucking two girls or just they as in generally referring to a single person.
You obstinately remain silent for a moment, holding his gaze with surprising defiance. âPlease do,â you finally choose to say, and the smirk makes its way back to his features.
âI promise,â he says, voice low once again, and you hate how it has something tightening inside of you once more.Â
You hate it so much that you escape, wishing him good night as you walk around him. You feel the warmth of his body on the way, and youâre thinking about ways to stab him in the back when he says, âSleep well, peach.â
Saturday, January 19th
Youâve taken to referring to last Wednesday night, or early Thursday morning, as The Incident. At least thatâs what you call it when you talk about it with your friends, Ria and Nabi. Ria, whoâs always had some sort of a crush on Jungkook is absolutely flabbergasted each time itâs mentioned, and Nabi thinks heâs proven that heâs the biggest asshole in college.
You relate to both, and mostly agree with Nabi.Â
Youâre supposed to go to some party later tonight. Ria convinced you to pre-drink at the girlsâ dorm before you go, considering itâs closer to the party than your apartment, and the three of you are sitting in a circle on the floor, with music playing in the background. Needless to say, Nabi has been complaining ever since you got there, because she doesnât usually do parties, and Ria is so excited sheâs got you convinced that tonight will be the best night of your life.
Almost.
âShots?â Ria asks as if you havenât already taken two shots each.
Sheâs holding the bottle of tequila up, a red flush to her cheeks and mischief lighting her gaze. You donât find it in you to say no, because you know that without the tequila Nabi is never going to make it to the party.
âLetâs do this,â you say, offering her a smirk as Nabi hides her face in her hands.
âYou girls are going to kill me,â she complains.Â
âCome on,â Ria says, playfully pushing her on the shoulder. âMaybe that cute guy you like is going to be there!â
Nabi has had a crush on someone from your major, Kim Namjoon, ever since you met her at the beginning of Frosh week last semester. Heâs a tall guy, with dimples whenever he smiles, and you can see why sheâd have a crush on him. Thing is, Namjoon has been dating someone ever since then, and Nabi has just been suffering in silence.
You still remember the moment you saw the crush bubble to life. It was day three of Frosh Week, and Namjoon was in charge of your team, along with Hoseok. You, Nabi, and three other first years were winning the relay race, figuring out the puzzles so quickly you had a good advance on the other teams. In a leap of happiness, Nabi jumped over a small stone wall on campus. One of her feet got tangled, and she ended up spraining her ankle.
Namjoon had been right by her side, asking her if she was okay. And Nabi has been in love with him ever since that day, though sheâd never dare say it aloud.
âI donât like anyone,â she grumbles, but the way her cheeks flush red is telling.
âNamjoon, Namjoon, Namjoon,â you singsong, offering her a shit eating grin.Â
She retaliates by saying, âWhenâs the last time youâve fucked Hobi? Didnât you say he was the best lay of your life?â
Your mouth falls open in surprise, and Ria lets out a loud laugh.
âWe stopped fucking in November, you know that!â you burst, feeling yourself turning crimson. âAnd itâs not like I have a crush on him, I stopped because it felt like he had a crush on me.â
Nabi has a winning smile on her lips. âAnd whatâs so bad about that?â
âI meanâŠâ you trail off, shrugging your shoulders. âThe sex was good, but I didnât feel like dating him. Simple as that.â
âWhy not?â Ria asks, tequila forgotten. âYou never told us.â She adds a pout to her sentence, trying to get you to explain.
Thereâs no explanation. You just didnât feel like it. You tell them as much, but Nabi doesnât buy it. Ria, on the other hand, lets out a sound that has both you and Nabi startling.
âI know why!â she explains.
You cock an eyebrow. âWhy?â
âYou live with fucking Jeon Jungkook, of course you donât want to date Hobi. Especially after The Incident.â
You laugh, as itâs just as ridiculous as you expected it to be. âNot at all. Jungkook is Taeâs best friend.â
Both your friends look at you, as if what you said was the stupidest shit they ever heard.
âWhat?â
âWhat does it change?â Nabi asks with a small voice.Â
âWell,â you let out, because you donât really know. Itâs just weird to you, and you donât know how to explain it. âFor one, Iâm pretty sure Tae would kill him if he ever laid a finger on me.â
âTae is in Paris,â Ria innocently says.
âIrrelevant,â you say, chuckling. âHeâs going to be back in just a few months.â
âA lot can happen in a few months,â she adds, wiggling her brows suggestively.
You roll your eyes before reaching out between the two of you. âGive me the tequila.â
âIâll fuck him if you donât,â she teases, and she cradles the tequila to her chest. âAs a matter of fact, maybe Iâll try to fuck him tonight.â
âHave fun!â is all you answer before making grabby hands at her. âNow, give me the alcohol, letâs get plastered before we get there so we donât have to drink the crappy frat booze.â
*****
The frat house hosting the party is wild. Has always been â youâve always found they go too far with most of their parties. But they also host the most memorable parties, and you know tonight will be a blast the moment you set in to see the strung LED light, shining different patterns of colours around the main room. A table in the corner is stacked high with every bottle of hard alcohol imaginable, and there are three coolers you assume are holding beer or something of the sorts.Â
One of the guys â Dave? â shows you three where you can leave your coats, on a bed in the upstairs bedroom, and then he walks you to the alcohol table, offering to pour you some shots.
Nabi giggles, because by the time you left their dorm, she got quite drunk, claiming she needed it if she were to run into Namjoon after what you and Ria had said. She accepts the shot sheâs handed, though half of it has spilled on her hand by the time the guy gives you yours. He puts salt on your hands, carefully, as Ria makes fun of Nabi, and you look around, scanning the crowd. You recognize a few people from your class, along with the usual party crowd of your college. You smile at two guys youâve spoken to before at least once, before resuming your attention on Dave (?) as he hands you a slice of lemon.
When the four of you are ready, you lick the salt, knock back the shot, and then bite in the lemon to chase the taste of tequila away. Itâs cheap tequila, and even with lemon the taste lingers while you prepare vodka cranberries for you and your friends. And though Ria loves dancing, you and Nabi win as you choose to head to the kitchen, where you know the music isnât usually as loud.
The first thing you notice when you enter the kitchen is the beer pong table in the middle. Jeon Jungkook is currently playing, along with Jimin, another of your brotherâs friends. As he sees you, Jimin raises his glass, offering you a wide grin, and then he punches Jungkook in his side before motioning to you.
Jungkook notices you then, and he offers you a smirk as he eyes you up and down. You feel shy for half a beat, though you know you look good. Youâre wearing a green corset along with a pair of black leather pants, and you know the two pieces of clothing hug your body perfectly. Plus, Ria did your makeup, and Ria never fails when it comes to makeup. So you wait as Jungkook looks at you, hoping the foundation Ria put on your face is thick enough for him not to see you blush as The Incident inevitably comes back to your mind.
You look away, and then you see Hoseok hovering by glass sliding doors, along with Namjoon and their other friend Yoongi. Hoseok is busy with a conversation, and when he bursts out laughing you can hear it clear as day.
Why didnât you want to date him? You donât know. You actually really donât know, because he ticks off all the boxes. But something was missing, you presume, and sometimes you hate yourself for it.
He must have sensed your attention, and he turns his head towards you. You donât miss the way his smile falls a little, and he nods once in recognition. When you smile, his mouth closes to offer you one of those awkward tight-lipped smiles, and your gaze drops away to the cup in your hand.
Of course, Ria has a nefarious plan in mind, because she hooks her arm with yours and Nabiâs, pulling you towards the trio of guys. Youâre fully aware that itâs mostly for Nabi, and that itâs stupid because last youâve heard, Namjoon is still dating his girlfriend, but you let your friend pull you towards the men, gaze still stubbornly hiding in your cup.
You watch the liquid slosh around as you stop in front of them, and Namjoon greets you. Hoseok falls eerily silent, and Yoongi asks you all how youâve been doing.
You only join in the conversation when youâve taken a long sip from your cup to ease your nerves. Not that it really helped, but you reckon just standing there in silence would probably make things more awkward than anything else.
âNabi is pretty drunk,â Ria is saying when you finally look up from the cup.Â
âAm not!â Nabi insists, voice slurred. âOr maybe just a little.â
Namjoon laughs, while Yoongi chuckles. âAs long as you donât fall and sprain your ankle again, I think youâre alright.â
âWonât fall again,â Nabi promises. âNot with these two with me.â She says that motioning to you and Ria, and it somehow brings Namjoonâs attention to you.
âI saw your essay on the synthesis and control of energy metabolism,â he tells you, a dimpled smile on display. âIt was pretty good.â
You canât help but slide your eyes to Nabi, who wrote a far better essay on human health and bacteriophage in your opinion, and you donât miss the way her gaze drops to the ground.
âThanks,â you reply to Namjoon nonetheless.
Heâs started TA-ing to help out Seokjin, one of the biochemistry grad students. All of you are biology students, except Ria and Yoongi. Ria is in administration, and Yoongi studies music, his concentration being piano and producing.
Thereâs an awkward silence, and you glance towards Hoseok, feeling the weight of his gaze on you. Heâs good-looking, even though heâs simply dressed in a T-shirt with some graphics on the front and a pair of discoloured jeans. Knowing him, he probably has a crazy jacket upstairs, because you know heâs good when it comes to fashion.
Itâs what attracted you to him in the first place.
âHow are you?â you ask him, and you notice Yoongiâs pointed gaze on you. Itâs disapproving, you think, but the question left your mouth without you even wanting it to.
âIâve been great,â Hoseok replies, though itâs a little colder than what you know him to be.
You nod, gaze dropping to the ground as Ria strikes a conversation with the three others, clearly trying to give you and Hoseok some space. It has the two of you just standing in aimless silence, until the sound of whooping behind you attracts your gaze to the beer pong table, where Jimin and Jungkook are celebrating a win. âIâmâŠâ you trail off as you turn back to look at him. âIâm glad. How are your classes?â
He sighs. âTheyâre harder than first-year classes.â
You donât miss the ghost of a teasing glint in his eyes, and you immediately latch onto it. âOh, please, you struggled in molecular biology. I got A+ in the class.â
He chuckles, and you physically relax. Because you havenât really talked since you ended things in November, finals coming in the way of partying and other events where you would run into him. So you didnât know before today where you stood with him, and youâre relieved that he doesnât seem like heâs holding a grudge.
âYou werenât in Lesterâs class,â he points out. âEven Namjoon almost failed Lesterâs class.â
You gasp in fake outrage. âNo way! And now heâs the biochem TA.â
âI know,â Hoseok says, slightly shaking his head. âUnbelievable.â
The renewed complicity between the two of you is easy, you realize, and when he suggests playing a game of beer pong, you immediately agree. Or maybe you only agree because you donât know where Nabi, Ria, Yoongi and Namjoon went, only that they arenât next to you anymore.
 Jungkook and Jimin are still undefeated at the table, and when Jungkook catches sight of you moving closer, he winks before shooting.
Youâre not surprised when the ball goes right in a cup, leaving only one on the table. Jimin laughs as their opponents claim Jungkook cheated, and Jungkook shrugs his shoulders.
âYou should know better than to call me a cheater, bro,â Jungkook says, and he runs a hand in his hair.
An infuriating small strand falls in his big doe eyes, but he seemingly doesnât care. He glances at you once again, eyes trailing between you and Hoseok.
âEnjoying yourself?â he asks when his gaze settles back on you.
You donât miss the way his eyes dip to your cleavage before moving back to your face.
âIâm here to beat your ass,â you reply, and you offer him a shit-eating grin.
He laughs, and he sets his attention on Hoseok. âI hope youâre good, bro, because sheâs just declared war.â And then he looks at you, smirking that insufferable smirk once more. His doe eyes narrow threateningly, and you find yourself wishing you had never heard him fuck before.
Because all your brain can picture right now is how you came to the sound of his grunts a couple of days ago.
âWhat?â you canât help but say, though he looks away from you as the two other guys shoot, completely missing the three cups left in front of Jimin and Jungkook.Â
You notice Jimin looking at you with an eyebrow cocked, and the smile on his lips means nothing good. You furrow your brows, because you know how much of a gossip he is, but thankfully enough for you, he has to throw.
You watch as he does so, landing it right in the last cup. Jungkook of course throws right in the cup too, claiming the victory for them as the two other guys grumble and leave the table, leaving the place free for you and Hoseok.
You meet Hoseokâs gaze, offering him a small smirk. âI hope youâre ready to get fucked.â
You only realize how crude your words sounded, especially considering your history with him, when he starts laughing, that contagious laugh youâve always found cute.
âI mean, Iâm a pretty good shot,â he says once youâve calmed down. âAre you?â
You wince. âOnce in a while Iâm good,â you answer truthfully. âMost of the time I suck.â
âWell hopefully youâll be good tonight,â he teases, gently nudging you with his elbow.
You offer him a determined nod, before turning to face Jungkook and Jimin. You quickly put the solo cups back in position, as Jungkook watches you with a half-smile on his lips. You donât know what to make of it, so you ignore him.
A small, tiny, minuscule voice at the back of your head tells you he probably knows about The Incident, but you ignore it entirely like youâve been doing for the past few days.
Turns out Hoseok really is a good shot. He lands all of his shots, but of course, it has to be the day you suck. You donât land any, up until the redemption that brings you back into the game when Jungkook and Jimin are about to win.
It makes you scream in happiness, and you throw your arms around Hoseokâs neck, right as his hands lay flat on your waist. He pulls you close, laughing in your ear until you let go, and you have the decency to feel bad.
Youâre pretty sure you broke his heart in November, and youâre pretty sure youâll only end up breaking it again. But thereâs just something in the way Jungkook is staring from the other side of the table, smile gone, that makes you want to cling to Hoseok. So you do, and when he stands behind you to help you with your next shot, you let him put one hand on your hip.
Your gaze meets Jungkookâs, and you watch as his eyes dip to the fingers on your hip. He cocks his head to the side, wets his lips, and then an infuriating smirk lights up his features dangerously until you feel like you need to look away or else youâll combust. So you glance at Jimin, who is just smiling prettily because when is he not, and then you focus on the lone solo cup you have to aim for.
âWhat you want to do,â Hoseok says, leaning so he can speak in your ear. Youâre infinitely aware of how his pelvis brushes your ass, and your breath catches in your throat. He continues, âis to throw in a parabola. That way you wonât hit the rim of the cupâ. He grabs your wrist, lifting your hand. âFrom this height, it should work.â
You nod, because you donât think you can answer, especially not as you can hear Jungkook snickering from where heâs standing. Instead, you really focus on the cup, and when youâre about to throw, Jungkook speaks up.
âPut it in, baby.â
Your brain short-circuits, and itâs no wonder you miss by a good, few inches. Jimin is a giggly mess next to Jungkook, Hoseok canât resist his laugh, and all you can do is glare at Jungkookâs satisfied smile.
âWhat the fuck?â you let out.
He winks at you. âGotta learn to not get distracted, peach.â
You hate the nickname. He knows that you do, and itâs the reason why heâs been using it for months now. Ever since one late night where you played Mario Kart together with Taehyung and Jimin, and you kept choosing Princess Peach as your character. When you went in the kitchen to grab a drink, Jungkook followed you and teased you about it, and now the nickname has stuck.
Though evidently never in front of Taehyung.
You wish you had a snarky retort in you, but all you can do is think about The Incident, and pray he canât tell that your cheeks are burning up because of him and not because of the alcohol.
You end up losing the beer pong game, and you cringe internally as you watch Hoseok dapping Jungkook and Jimin up. You begrudgingly congratulate them, as Jungkook teases you for the loss.
âWould have thought your brother taught you better than this,â he says, nudging you with his elbow.
You roll your eyes, glancing at Hoseok, but heâs striking a conversation with Jimin.Â
âTae and I didnât spend all that much time together, Jungkook,â you remind him. âYou know I just moved in with you guys because you needed someone after Jimin left.â
Jungkook shrugs. âYou seem pretty close to him.âÂ
He falls silent, pulling at his piercing as you glance at his features. Youâve left your liquid courage somewhere on the table, and you really wish you had it with you right now. Only so you could avoid the sudden wistful look in Jungkookâs haze, though it disappears so quickly you think you might have imagined it.
âHeâs really protective of you,â he comments as you too remain silent, not knowing what to say.
You chuckle, because if there is a thing that is true, itâs that your older brother is an overbearing asshole. âThat he is,â you agree, and you both laugh.
âHey, do you want a drink?â Hoseok suddenly asks, and you realize that Jimin has disappeared.Â
Youâre pretty sure Jungkook is eyeing him up and down when you reply, âPlease, I need a new drink.â
Hoseok beams, and you make to move towards him when Jungkook grabs your arm to stop you. Your eyes widen, The Incident flashing in your mind, but his tattooed fingers let go of you as you throw him an inquisitive look.
âIâm not drinking tonight,â he admits. âI came with my car, thought Iâd offer to drive you home.â
At that, your eyebrows shoot towards your hairline in surprise. âWhat?â
He shrugs, corner smile back on his pink lips. âAs long as you donât get sick, that is.â
You ponder for a time, because you were supposed to sleep over at Nabi and Riaâs dorm tonight. You reckon heading home would probably be better, especially now that Hoseok has caught your attention again.
Maybe you can give Jungkook a piece of his medicine.
âAyt,â you tell him, moving closer as a secretive smile moves on your lips, brought up by the evil plan that is just starting to form in your brain. âIâll find you later?â
Jungkook looks down at you, tongue pushing on the inside of his cheek as he tilts his head to the side. A smirk moves on his lips and he glances at Hoseok before settling his doe eyes back on you.
He looks nothing like a doe when he says, âIâll be waiting for you.â
And then heâs the one that walks away, and you canât breathe for a few seconds as Hoseok waits patiently, either unaware of the situation or not caring. Though you know he knows Jungkook is your roommate â he probably just thinks Jungkook is being nice.
You inhale deeply, before turning to look at Hoseok as you let out your breath. âSo, drinks?â
He smiles, genuinely, nodding his head as he offers you his hand to take. To your surprise, he pulls you close to him, and the way his gaze looks down on you makes you all too aware that you used to fuck him, and he used to fuck you good.
âWhat are you drinking tonight?â he asks, head dipping so he can ask the question in your ear.
âWhat do you want?â
His smile turns a little dangerous, and he looks over your head to the doorway to the living room. âShall we?â
You laugh, nodding your head enthusiastically, and you let him pull you behind him. He guides you to the drink table in the living room, where he makes you a rum and coke as you scan your surroundings. You spy Ria and Nabi dancing, and you only understand why when you notice that Namjoon is nearby too, with Yoongi whoâs just standing to the side, scrolling on his phone as if bored.
You know Hoseok likes to dance. Thatâs how you first kissed all those months ago, so you donât hesitate to ask if he wants to join your friends after youâve both drank a couple of sips from your respective solo cups. He obviously agrees, and you take his hand to guide him to your friends. Youâre painfully aware of how Yoongi raises his head when you get closer, eyes dropping to your entwined hands. He furrows his brows disapprovingly, and you wonder if heâll speak up.
If heâll speak up and ruin your plan for you.Â
He doesnât, instead meeting your gaze as if daring you to do something. It makes you feel bad for a split second until Hoseok lets go of your hand to rest a hand on your hip as he nestles his lean body against your back.
âYou know,â he says in your ear, and you look away from Yoongi, refusing to acknowledge his challenge. âI always wondered why you ghosted me.â
You gulp, and you follow his lead as he makes you sway your hips against him. Ria whistles and your eyes widen a little as if to say âplease not right nowâ.
âIâm sorry,â you apologize, and itâs true. âI didnât really mean to ghost you, just got busy andâŠâ
He laughs, and youâre surprised to hear it ring true. âY/n,â he says. He leans even closer, and his lips brush your ear. It makes goosebumps rise all over your body, right as he continues, âYou can say you got scared. I gave you plenty of reasons to be scared.â
Because you had agreed on no feelings, and he still had developed some, hadnât he?
âIâm still sorry, ghosting you was shitty of me.â
He chuckles, and youâre starting to recognize the man that he is in the bedroom. His voice is low, husky, when he says, âShould I punish you for it?â
The Incident and Jeon Jungkook are thousands of miles from your thoughts when his words settle in, making heat pool at your core.
âYouâd still want to do this?â you ask, breathlessly.
He nibbles at your earlobe, and you instinctively tilt your head to the side to give him better access. He kisses under your ear, tongue darting out to taste your skin, and this time Ria fully hollers in front of you.
You glare at her, only to see that she and Nabi are having the time of their life watching you.
âI havenât been able to forget how good your pussy feels wrapped around my dick,â Hoseok replies after heâs sucked a hickey on your neck. âTrust me, if I can fuck you again, Iâll do it.â
You donât hesitate when you turn around, resting your forehead against his. âI donât want to hurt you.â
And you know you would. Especially considering how tense he was when you first talked to him tonight.Â
âSweet of you,â he comments, and a smirk grows on his lips. He pulls away from you, taking a sip of rum and coke. âI wasnât catching feelings for you, if thatâs what you were worried about.â He pauses as his face falls fully serious. âYou just donât like when people treat you right.â
Youâre insulted. You really are, yet⊠he isnât entirely wrong. The minute a guy gets too close, you dip â you blame that on the fact your father abandoned you and Taehyung when you were still kids.
âIs that why Yoongi is glaring at me?â you ask, a little colder than intended.Â
The message still passes, and Hoseok shrugs his shoulders. âI donât care what Yoongi thinks. He always thinks he knows me better than I do but, trust, he doesnât.â
Youâre surprised at just how bitter Hoseokâs sentence sounds. You always thought Yoongi and he were best friends. Itâs strange to think that maybe they arenât, or at least maybe they arenât close enough to be.
âAnyway,â Hoseok adds when you remain silent for a little too long. âIf youâre willing to fuck again, Iâd be down. I havenât found another pussy like yours since the last time we fucked.â
Which coincidentally is the last time you had sex with anyone. Youâre not surprised Hoseok fucked some other people after you â with his easy charm, you know he can have anyone wrapped around his finger pretty easily.Â
And if he wants to participate in your evil plan so willingly, who are you to tell him no?
âThe nightâs barely started,â you point out. âBut maybe you can come back to my place later?â
Youâve never invited him over before, because if thereâs a thing that scares you more than anything in this world, itâs Taehyung hearing you having sex with some guy. But now that your brother is in Paris, you figure it doesnât matter.
Plus, if you want Jungkook to get a taste of his own medicine, you have to bring Hoseok home.
âDeal,â Hoseok tells you, and he seals the deed with a searing and unexpected kiss.
You still kiss him back, hungrily, your body remembering just how good Hoseok can make you feel. You just have to make it through a party â with Jungkook driving you home, you know itâs likely you wonât leave until the party is starting to dwindle down.
When you pull away, Hoseok licks his lips once, as if wanting to remember the taste of you, before saying, âIâll find you at the end of the partyâ.
You nod, and begrudgingly let him leave when he walks over to where Yoongi is standing, now joined by a baffled Namjoon, who glances between the two of you a couple of times. You ignore him, instead focusing on Ria and Nabi as they drunkenly pull you away, laughing wildly.
âWhat the fuck was that?â Ria asks in between two sets of laughter as you emerge in the kitchen. âI thought you said you didnât want him anymore.â
You donât want to jinx your plan, so all you can think to do is shrug your shoulders nonchalantly. âIt just happened.â
In a weird moment of soberness, Nabi says, âPlease donât lead him on. Heâs a decent guyâ.
You tell your friends what he told you, and they both seem taken aback, yet they donât question it. After all, the amount of alcohol in your blood is enough to make it so itâs a little hard to think profoundly, and inhibitions have flown out the window before you even got to the party.
After the conversation is over, your two friends insist on playing beer pong, claiming that they need you to encourage them. You recognize Dave at the table â you think thatâs his name â and you all cozy up next to him as you ask to be next. You linger behind, mostly because youâve noticed someone youâve been avoiding ever since you got to college last semester, and you hope he doesnât notice you.
Maybe heâs one of the reasons why youâve been struggling with people treating you right, like Hoseok mentioned. Because Sam was your first love, and he played you immensely.
If he notices you, he doesnât look like he does, instead keeping his arm tightly wrapped around the girl next to him. You donât know her, and you wouldnât even care if you did â you stopped caring about Sam a long time ago. But youâre still a little put off at the sight of him, and when you catch sight of Jungkook and Jimin by the backyardâs sliding door, breathing in some fresh air, you decide to join them.
Which, you reckon, is a very stupid idea. Because they are Taehyungâs friends, not yours, but they feel safer for you than being in the vicinity of Sam Hwang right now.
âWerenât you sucking face with whatâs-his-name just a second ago?â Jimin asks straight away as you stop next to them.
You snort in your cup, taking a long sip from your drink. âMaybe,â you say once youâve swallowed.
âTae would have killed him,â Jimin jokes, looking at Jungkook.
You donât miss the way Jungkookâs gaze is focused on a spot on your neck, and you rub it mindlessly.Â
âGood thing heâs in Paris,â you point out. âAnd I can trust you two to not tell him?âÂ
You say it like a question, though you know itâs useless. Jimin is the biggest gossip you know, and you expect Taehyung to be scolding you by the time you wake up tomorrow morning.
Though that attracts Jungkookâs attention to your face, and he meets your gaze with that same infuriating smirk he was sporting earlier.Â
âLips sealed,â he says, uselessly because both of you know that Jimin is the real danger.
Before anything else can be said, Jimin points towards the beer pong table. âDidnât feel like playing with your friends?â
You shrug, taking another sip of rum and coke. âThey donât need me.â
âPretty sure youâd be a liability anyway,â Jungkook teases.
Jimin and he laughs at your expanse, and youâre stuck glaring at Jungkook, right as The Incident takes the forefront of your thoughts again.
You wish it would stop haunting you. Wish it would leave you alone, because you feel like it was the cataclysm to a series of bad decisions. The first event of a butterfly effect that is threatening to push you over the edge of the cliff.
âI did get the redemption shot,â you point out, and Jungkook playfully nudges you again.
âDoesnât count, your little boyfriend got all the other shots for you.â
Your gaze widens. âHeâs not my boyfriend!â you quickly defend.
Admittedly a tad too quickly.
Jungkook cocks an eyebrow, wetting his lips before playing with his piercing. âOf course not.â
You narrow your eyes at him, though you remain silent because you feel like saying something else would be far too incriminating.Â
âLeave her alone,â Jimin jokes. âShe did her best.â And then his gaze settles on you, and you balk at the mischief burning in his eyes. âNot her fault if her best sucks.â
âBruh,â you let out, and you all burst out laughing.
After that, the conversation moves on easily, as you ask Jimin about his girlfriend. He starts gushing about the girl â he always does whenever Sera is mentioned. He tells you about her latest publication, and Jungkook looks bored out of his mind by the time something catches his attention, and he walks away from you and Jimin.
You watch him leave, somehow disappointed, but you entertain the conversation with Jimin for longer still. And Jimin is fun to be around, easy to talk to, and you donât realize but an hour has passed before he glances down at his phone.
âShit, I gotta go,â he admits. âI told Sera I wouldnât be home too late.â
Your solo cup has been empty for half of the hour, so you raise it and say, âGo home, Iâm going to get a refill.â
He hugs you goodbye, though you both walk together towards the living room. You part ways as you head to the drink table, once again scanning the room in search of your friends. They are nowhere to be seen, so you set on exploring the house after youâve made another rum and coke for yourself.Â
You find the stairs, and you head upstairs thinking they might have needed to settle in a calmer environment. Knowing Nabi, it is to be expected, yet you donât find them anywhere upstairs. Thereâs a closed door leading to what you think is a bathroom, but you refuse to look in there.
You almost let out a startled yelp as it opens, and Jungkook steps out, pretty lips swollen red as he leads a girl behind him. At the sight of you, he lets go of her hand, and she looks between the two of you curiously. As both of you remain entirely silent, she furrows her brow but then dips, running a hand through her visibly tangled-up hair.
You can easily imagine what she and Jungkook were doing just a moment ago.
âReally?â you tell him.
His tongue pokes his cheek, and he laughs. âYou asked me not to fuck at home anymore.â
You purse your lips, actually surprised that he took your word into account.
âDidnât expect you would respect it.â
He doesnât fake the offence that paints his features. âIâm not an asshole, peach.â
The nickname is said condescendingly, and you reckon you should feel a little bad. Because youâre still set on bringing Hoseok home tonight, no matter if Jungkook decided not to fuck anyone at home again.
âSorry,â you apologize, not knowing what else to say.
Silence moves between you, and Jungkook leans against the doorframe, arms folding on his chest. He watches you carefully, as if heâs never really seen you before and, frankly, you wish heâd looked at you like this before.
Itâs a treacherous thought, and you push it away as best as you can.Â
âJimin went home,â you tell him, feeling the need to fill the silence with something, anything.
Before he can reply, a group of people move upstairs, talking loudly. Jungkook pushes up from the doorframe, walking towards you.
âDo you want to go home too?â he asks when heâs right next to you.
Heâs tall. You have to tilt your head back to be able to hold his gaze, and damn you, youâre hypnotized. You donât want to look away, donât think that you can.
âYou already want to go home?â you answer, wetting your lips, and his eyes drop to your mouth.
He scoffs, as if itâs an inconvenience, before shrugging his shoulders. âIâm not drinking, I donât see why Iâd stay longer.â
Right.
âWhy arenât you drinking anyway?â you ask, genuinely curious.Â
He smiles, with no hint of that infuriating smirk for once. âGot morning shift at the library tomorrow.â
The fact he works in a library still makes no sense to you. Though heâs claimed itâs because that way, itâs easy to approach all the pretty, intelligent women who donât go to parties. Easy targets for a fuckboy like him.
âAh,â you let out. âWellâŠâ you glance at the group of people as they get out of the room where the coats are. When you resume your attention on Jungkook, youâre struck thinking heâs moved even closer. âMy friend is supposed to sleep over, can I go find him?â
You say it innocently, and you donât miss the way Jungkook frowns slightly. âWho?â
You force Hoseokâs name out, mostly because the way Jungkook is looking at you right now is making you want to disappear through the floor.
âAh, the guy you played beer pong with,â Jungkook comments. âThought he wasnât your boyfriend.â
You furrow your brows. âHe isnât.â
A smirk grows on his lips. âThen why are you bringing him home, peach?â
Your own smirk is easy to come to your lips as you reply, âIâll let you imagine.â
âYour brother wouldnât approve.â
As he licks at his piercing, you canât help but look down at his lips. âGood thing youâre not my brother then.â
He doesnât reply, only looks over your head as you hear the unmistakable laugh of Jeong Hoseok. It makes you take a step back, and you turn to see Hoseok appearing at the top of the stairs. To your surprise, heâs accompanied by Ria, Nabi and Namjoon, but Yoongi is nowhere in sight.
Namjoon is helping Nabi walk, as sheâs clearly gotten even drunker since you abandoned them downstairs. You wince at her sight, knowing sheâs going to be a nightmare tomorrow.Â
Ria catches sight of you and Jungkook, and her gaze widens.
âHere you are!â she shrieks. âWe were looking for you everywhere.â
You donât miss the way Hoseok looks you up and down, and you thank your stars for making this so easy. âI was thinking of heading home,â you tell the group, and you glance over your shoulder to confirm it with Jungkook.
Heâs got an unreadable expression on his features, one that makes you think youâre going to enjoy your payback way too much.
When you look back to the group, itâs to see Hoseok cocking an eyebrow as if to say âAm I still coming?â You nod, and you take a few steps towards him, interlocking your fingers with his. Ria watches as if itâs a scene from her favourite movie, and you all enter the room with the coats.Â
You find yours in the mess on the floor, fast enough to catch sight of Jungkook as heâs waiting outside the door. You recognize his coat in the mess, so you grab it before bringing it to him.
âHere,â you tell him.
He chuckles. âThanks, peach.â
Hoseok is next to follow, and the two guys eye each other before you hear Namjoon say, âAre you sure youâre fine with getting her home?â
You look into the room â Nabi is now lying on the bed, laughing to herself.
âHopefully, yeah,â Ria answers. âIâve already called an Uber.â
Namjoon is watching Nabi with a strange expression on his features when he says, âYou guys are still at the dorms?â
âYeah, we are,â Nabi slurs. âWhere else would we be?â
Namjoon chuckles, and he glances your way. You immediately look away, right as he says, âIâll come with you guys, then.â
Your thoughts head to his girlfriend for a few seconds, feeling bad for the girl, though clearly, Namjoon is just trying to be a gentleman. When you see Jungkook and Hoseok waiting patiently for you, you forget all about Nabi, Ria, Namjoon and his hypothetic girlfriend, especially as you see the not-so-genuine smile on Hoseokâs lips, and the dark look in Jungkookâs gaze.
Maybe your plan was a little too evil after all.
*****
The night is cold outside â arctic â and you wish you were drunker. That way, youâd barely feel it, but no, youâre forced to a shivering mess as you walk behind Jungkook towards his car, which he was forced to park a few streets over because of a recent snowstorm. All that can be heard is the sounds of your shoes crunching in the snow and the distant buzz of the highway. Up above, the stars twinkle in the night, and smoke moves from your mouth to create a cloud over your head.
You hate winter. Always have, and always will. Especially when itâs so cold you feel like your face will fall off, and you reckon tonight is one of the coldest nights in a while.Â
Your eyes trail to Hoseok, and you smile in relief â at least your bed wonât be cold tonight.
You finally reach Jungkookâs car, and he unlocks the doors, the sound reverberating through the cold air. You sit in the back seat with Hoseok, pushing Jungkookâs gym bag to the side, and Jungkook is quick to turn on the engine, blasting the heater on. He meets your gaze in the rearview mirror as he waits for the engine to be warm enough to actually start driving.Â
For a moment, you forget Hoseok is next to you. All you can focus on is Jungkookâs gaze. Where itâs usually wide, big and innocent, his eyes are narrowed now, as if heâs eyeing you. Judging you, even. Judging your choices, and you think heâs full of shit for it â heâs the first one to fuck around whenever he has the opportunity, after all.
A moment later, he deems the car finally ready, and he looks away, focusing on the street instead. He turns up the music on the stereo, and you watch as he taps his fingers on the steering wheel in time with the beat. You do so until you feel Hoseokâs hand landing on your thigh, which attracts your attention to him.
âThanks for inviting me,â Hoseok says, not too loud, but clearly Jungkook hears because his fingers stop tapping on the wheel.
You smile, glancing down at Hoseokâs lips. They look chapped from the cold, yet when he smiles that bright smile of his back, you canât help but think they are still inviting.
âPlease donât judge the state of the apartment,â you whisper, leaning closer to him. âThis idiot doesnât know how to ââ
Jungkook slams the brakes, and you whip your head towards him as the aftershock sends you back into your seat. His eyes are gleaming with barely concealed mischief, and the infuriating smirk graces his lips.
âSorry,â he says, but he doesnât seem apologetic at all.
You roll your eyes, but that kills the conversation until you arrive at your apartment, which thankfully isnât too far away from the party. Jungkook parks out front, and you all file out of the car, walking up the stairs to your door. You unlock it while the two men stand next to you, and youâre not sure whatâs colder â them, or the actual winter night.
Youâre not sure you want to know the answer either.
Warm air wraps you in its embrace as you open the door and step in, and you quickly shut it after the two men to make sure the cold doesnât come in too much. By the time youâve turned back around, Jungkookâs already halfway to his bedroom.
âGood night,â he says over his shoulder.Â
For some reason, you expected him to be more of an ass about the situation, but youâre reduced to thinking he actually doesnât care all that much. You watch him until he disappears in his room before your eyes slide to Hoseok.
Heâs been observing you all this time, and the moment your eyes meet, he smiles.
âWe can hang our coats in the closet,â you tell him as you unzip yours, and he follows your motion.
You grab a hanger for him, handing it to him before taking off your coat and hanging it. Once that is done, you head towards your room, pit-stopping in the kitchen to grab glasses of water. You reckon you didnât expect him to be so silent, and it makes you slightly uncomfortable.
Even when youâre in your room, and youâve plugged in your fairy lights, Hoseok still doesnât say a thing.Â
âYou good?â you ask him, doing your best to calm your sudden nerves.
Was it a good idea to bring him here after all?
He grins, nodding once. âThe apartment isnât as messy as you let it sound like.â
Not expecting that at all, you let out a small laugh. But he isnât wrong â out of the three of you, Taehyung is by far the messiest. And now that he is gone, Jungkook and you have managed to keep the apartment tidy and clean, though sometimes Jungkook does leave some dirty dishes around.
âOh,â you let out, and you chuckle. âYeah, we cleaned this week.â
Last Wednesday, actually. Right before Jungkook had his pussy appointment, it turns out.
Hoseok looks around, and you gaze at his honey skin for a time. It looks warm in the lights, and his smile is still just as blinding when he offers it to you.
âLike your room.â
You scan it as if you havenât lived here for months now. Youâve brought most of the stuff you had at home â except your collection of plushies. Polaroid pictures of you growing up are hung on threads over your desk, which is a little messy from the project you were working on yesterday. Your laptop lays there unattended, screen black, and you walk over to shut it absentmindedly.Â
âItâs not much, but itâs home,â you tell him, and you donât have time to turn around for him to put his hand on your hip like he was doing earlier at the party.Â
You take a long swig of water, before putting the glass down on your desk. Hoseok imitates you, and then his other hand finds a home on your waist.
âFeels like you,â he whispers, head dipping down so he can say the words in your ear.
You shiver, eyes fluttering shut, as he moves your hair out of the way before kissing on the hickey he sucked on your skin at the party.
âYeah?â you breathe out.
He nods, and you feel him move against your neck. He pulls you closer, and your breath itches in your throat when you feel his dick against your ass.
âFuck,â he curses. âIâve been wanting to fuck you again for so long.â He nibbles at your earlobe, and one of his hands moves to your neck, holding you firmly into place. âBut you had to run away, thinking you knew me. Baby,â he pauses, as his fingers dig in your arteries, making your head swim with the lack of oxygen, âyou donât know me at all. And Iâm going to fucking punish you for it tonight. Understood?â
He releases his hold on your neck, and you suck in a sharp breath. âYes.â
âMmh?â
You know exactly what he wants, and it makes your insides boil again. âYes, sir.â
He smirks against you, before biting at the skin of your neck. âYouâll be a good little slut for me?â
You nod, entirely unable to form a sentence. Youâve completely forgotten that the goal of tonight is to make Jungkook pay for how heâs been having loud sex. All you can think about right now is the man behind you.
âThen turn around, baby. Strip out of your clothes.â
You obey, mostly because Hoseok brings out a submissive part of you that just craves to do what he wants. Yes, youâve always been more on the submissive side. But with other people, you canât help the brat in you.
You fear being a brat with Hoseok would be a very dangerous game to play.
You donât break the eye contact as you take off your clothes, slowly. He doesnât look away from you, though he wets his lips as if the sight of you is making him hungry.Â
Hoseok has a duality you have rarely seen before. Where he is an incredibly sweet person in his regular life, his bedroom self turns into a demon, a force to be reckoned with. No wonder sex with him is always so good.
When youâre finally naked, panties pooling around your ankles, Hoseok offers you a smirk. He doesnât say anything, but he slowly undoes his belt, before motioning for you to get closer.
Only one step separates you from him, and then youâre standing right in front of him. He raises his hand, making you tilt your head back, and then he captures your mouth in a hungry kiss.
You canât help but moan when he swats the belt at your side, the leather making your skin tingle. He pushes his tongue in your mouth, and your hands instinctively grab onto the hem of his shirt.
âNu-uh,â he tuts, making you let go of it. âGet on your knees, baby.â
You drop to your knees, eyes darting to the bulge in his pants once before he makes you tilt your head back again. You gulp, right as he wraps his belt around your neck until the buckle is pressing against your skin. He doesnât make it tight enough to hurt, but your hands still shake a little at being so vulnerable in front of him.
âYou remember the safe word?â he asks.
âRed.â
He nods appreciatively. âAnd if you canât speak, you tap my leg, correct?â
âYes, sir.â
âFuck you look so good like this.â
Not knowing if you can touch him, you just smile up at him, wetting your lips.
âWant to get a taste of me?â
You already know where this is going to lead. Hoseok fucked your mouth more than once in the three months you had casual sex with him. So you answer, âI want you to come down my throat.â
He smirks. âGood girl.â
With his free hand, he unbuttons his pants, before pushing them down his legs. He doesnât step out of them, instead palming himself through his boxers. You watch the imprint of his dick, salivating at the sight, especially as precum is already wetting the fabric.
Hoseok doesnât have a particularly big dick. But whenever he fucks you, it feels like heâs the biggest youâve ever had, mostly because he knows how to use it. Knows how to move and snap his hips in a way that makes you think youâre seeing into the future. It also makes it so sucking his dick doesnât hurt your jaw too much, so youâre able to do it for a longer period of time.
Tonight, you have an inkling that youâll be doing it for a while.
He pushes his underwear down, freeing his dick. Your eyes drop to it, not surprised to see the angry, swollen tip. He looks like heâs about to burst, but you know itâs a trick of the eye â Hoseok has more stamina than one would think.
Holding the base of his dick, he brings the tip closer to your face. Your mouth falls open, expecting him to push his cock in, but he instead taps your cheek with it.
âI want to ruin you,â he says in a low voice. âI want you to never be able to fuck another guy because you still think of me.â
You gulp, tongue darting to wet your lips. He gets the cue, and he brings his dick to your mouth. You donât hesitate before licking at his slit, the salty taste of his precum filling your mouth. You then wrap your lips around the head, giving a tentative suck as your tongue plays with the underside of it.
He grunts, cocking his head to the side. And then he starts pulling on the belt â just a little, not enough to hurt, but enough to make it so itâs a tad harder to breathe. Heâs usually pretty safe in his sex practices, but you feel like this could be dangerous.
You only then understand what he really meant by punishing you, and it makes your pussy drip on your thighs.
You moan around his dick, before slowly pushing forward until he hits the back of your throat, and your eyes water. You swallow around him, keeping the gag reflex at bay as he circles his hips. You pull away from his cock to move to his balls instead, still not using your hands as you lick at the spot between them, licking up his dick at the same time.
âHands on me, baby,â he commands.
As per usual, you obey. One of your hands moves to fondle his balls, and the other wraps around the base of his cock so you can jerk him off as you suck. And then you get to work, eyes shutting as you concentrate on pulling grunts out of him.
He doesnât let you do it for a long time. Heâs quick to pull on the belt more â itâs a leash more than a belt, is it? â which makes you pull away, lips parted as you struggle to suck in some air.
âEyes on me,â he tells you. âI want to see you cry as you choke on my dick.â
When he guides his cock back towards your mouth, you keep your eyes on him, ever so a good girl, and you let him thrust in your mouth. The first two times he does it, your gag reflex doesnât show up, but the third time you gag, spit rolling on your chin as he pulls away. A line of drool connects his tip to your mouth, and it breaks as he once again taps his cock on your cheek. Tears water your eyes, and he watches you blink them away, slightly shaking his head in disapproval.
You know that was your last chance when he pushes his dick in your mouth again, establishing a steady yet hard rhythm that has your gaze blurring. You moan against him, right as he grunts, whispering filthy curses entwined with mentions of your name. And when he starts going faster, the sounds of you choking get louder. Itâs indecent, pornographic, and tears roll on your cheeks as he throws his head back, grunting loudly.
âFuck, baby.â
He stops at the back of your throat, looking down at you. He wipes some tears on your cheeks as you swallow around him. His dick twitches inside your mouth, but you know heâs not about to come.
Soon, perhaps, but not just yet.
âYouâre okay?â he asks, because even though heâs pretty rough, he always does care about his partner too.Â
He lets you pull away to catch your breath, releasing his tight hold on the belt too. You breathe raggedly, throat feeling raw from the intrusion.
âYes,â you breathe out.Â
âGood.â He licks his lips, offering you a dangerous chuckle. âYouâre going to let me come down your throat?â
You nod, and he taps the tip of his dick against your sealed lips. You donât remember shutting your mouth, so you open it wide again for him. He pushes forward, slowly, until all of it is embedded in your mouth, head pushing against the back of your throat. He remains unmoving long enough for you to gag, and then he pushes forward even more before pulling back.
When he starts fucking your mouth again, you know heâs chasing his high. So you fondle his balls, moan around his dick, try not to choke whenever he hits the back of your throat. Evidently, you still do sometimes, and tears roll down your cheeks by the time he growls, âOpen your throat up for me, babyâ.
You moan one last time, as he pushes all the way to the back of your mouth, grunting loudly as hot spurts of his cum fills your throat. As his dick twitches, he pulls out a little, and you know better than to swallow right away. So you patiently wait as he finishes, before fully pulling away.Â
He grabs your jaw, and forces you to tilt your head back. âOpen up.â You do, and he spits on top of his cum before saying, âSwallowâ. You do that too, and the next time you open your mouth, itâs fully empty. Only then does he let go of your jaw, and he also quickly takes his belt off from around your neck, letting it drop to the floor.
It falls with a loud thump, and you breathe in deeply for the first time in a while. Your throat aches, and you massage your neck where the buckle left an indent in your skin. Concern grows on his features as you chuckle awkwardly, getting up from the floor.
Your knees are already hurting, and you know youâll have bruises by the time you wake up tomorrow.
âIs your neck okay?â he asks.
You drop your hand, and his fingers ghost over the spot. âYeah,â you reassure him. âItâll be okay.â
âGood.â He smirks, and then he captures your lips in another heated kiss. One of his hands moves between your thighs, and he feels your wetness, groaning in satisfaction. âYouâre dripping for me,â he says as he pulls away from the kiss, resting his forehead against yours.
âI am.â
He licks at your mouth, before saying, âToo bad you wonât be getting some tonight, mmh?â
And he moves his hand away from your core to settle it on your waist instead.
âWhat?â you let out.
At this, he laughs, and itâs a little mean. âYou think Iâll make you come when youâve ghosted me for a few months?â He pauses, letting his words sink in. âNah, youâre going to have to work for it, baby.â
You want to curse him, but somehow it just turns you on further. âWhen can I see you again then?â
He ponders for a time, pulling away so he can meet your gaze. âWhat about next weekend?â
Youâre disappointed, but you try not to let it show. âAny chance youâd be available during the week?â
âMaybe,â he says, cocking his head to the side. âWill you be nice and not touch yourself until then?â
You bite at your bottom lip, nodding once.Â
âThen yes, we can hang out this week,â he concludes. He frees your lip from your teeth with his thumb, before gently tapping your cheek. âBut Iâve got to go now.â
It surprises you. Back when you were friends with benefits, you always stayed the night at his place, so you expected him to stay tonight. But he immediately steps away from you, putting his clothes back on quickly as you just stand there, naked and awkward.
âYouâre leaving?â
He glances at you as heâs putting his belt back on. âYeah, wonât have you think Iâm into you like that again.â
It hurts just a tad little bit, but at the same time you agree with him. Not sleeping over is a good way to avoid feelings, so you decide to throw on a pair of sweatpants and a sweater so you can walk him to the front door.
Hoseok kisses your forehead once when you get there, before grabbing his coat. You watch as he slides his arms in it, draping it on his shoulders before he bends down to put his shoes on too. When he straightens, he offers you a hug and you gladly embrace him as he wishes you good night.
Youâre somehow confused as you shut the door behind him, and you stay there for a few seconds, almost expecting him to come back. He doesnât, and youâre left heading to the bathroom to brush your teeth, only so you can get rid of the taste of him, and then you head to your bedroom.
And as you lie awake in bed, the only thing you can hope is that Jungkook didnât hear you after all. Youâre ashamed of what you did, but youâre far too tired to think about it deeply. All you can do is stare at the wall in front of you, hoping that sleep will take you.
It doesnât, not until the early hours of the morning, when the sun is starting to kiss the horizon, turning the sky to liquid gold.
Teaser | Chapter 1.5 | Next
âââââ
So? Do we like it? Do we not? Let me know what you thought of the first chapter!
All rights reserved to @/oddinary4bts, 2024. Do not copy, repost or translate.
Taglist: (strike-through means dumblr isn't letting me tag you)
@skzthinker | @boyswithjun | @michellekosmos | @lovelye79 | @raraluvz
@goldenjeonkoo | @superchamchi88 | @busanbby-jjk | @kookssecret | @buddybops
@blr1004 | @junecat18 | @parking-lotnights | @parapiop7 | @lovingkoalaface
@goldentea10 | @babystarcandyjk97 | @montyfbaybee | @boyfriendtaekook | @jungkussyficrecs
@nightapple | @ice | @hera19 | @biaswreckersinc | @kookieleshgo
@02010802 | @cookysstuff | @mggv97 | @starlight-1010 | @srslythis-ismylife
@lavender2ari | @jjkluver7 | @8balljk | @kooklovee | @kingofbodyrolls
@ll4l | @kissyfacekoo | @ggukiepie | @moon-gyi | @apples0-0
@jcrl99 | @iammeandmeisiam | @kookoo-kachoo | @marvelbun | @lalaren
@sugas-baby-girl | @glossminmin03 | @kocoreads | @carriereadsbooks | @aiiselle90210
@feyocean | @khuderutu | @stuti2904 | @ziya.exe | @shortnspicier
@wiseboojumtree | @bobagukks | @vrusha01 | @lilyy07 | @j1m1nsb3lla
@younhakim29 | @screamertannie | @wisebouquetbarbarian | @pixiekook | @nanjeonlangakook
@jcnggukie | @ggukieland | @phanniefoo | @jksctrl | @sp1derk0ok
@hyukal0ml | @mysjammy | @lesiacapouille | @shearttttttttt | @hobibbb
@mochifuzz | @kooksbunnnn | @moonchilddna | @libra04 | @vminkookgf
@jayrielle27 | @tulips4u | @jinniejax | @chimmisbae | @sumzysworld
@lmene_ghd | @gguksflowers | @sadgirlroo | @kissme-ornot | @mar-lo
@kazkookiekazookie | @infiresyg93 | @junggukjeonfreakinwife | @sweet-pinee | @soshaaa
@jjk7k | @whoa-jo | @faithinbangtan | @nerdycheol | @kookxin
@sneezedonthebeat | @gimeow | @xx-cynnie-xx | @futuristicenemychaos | @kimyishin
@ericawantstoescape | @00frenchfries00 | @protronicsss | @daisiesarepretty7 | @whatthefuckkkk
@burnahtsw | @busanbby-jjk | @seoullove96 | @melodiesforari | @ramicherie
@valentinegab3 | @jksusawife | @acheloishebe | @yum1xc | @nikkinikj
@backseatana | @rararasthings | @snoozekook | @ot7stansthings | @sexytholland
@xmspurple7x | @artemisdoe | @mimi122880 | @gaebestie | @elenabozzato
@kookieintae | @moonchild1 | @wobblewobble822 | @jusst-mee92 | @turn02
@suker4angst | @yeontaniiii | @honeeybunneey | @khadeeeeej | @jungkookieeee97
@xumyboo | @chxmachxps
#chasing cars ch 1#jungkook smut#jungkook angst#jungkook fluff#jungkook x reader#jungkook x you#jungkook fic#jungkook#jjk smut#jjk angst#jjk fluff#jjk x reader#jjk x you#jjk fic#jjk#chasing cars series#btswritersclub#chasing cars
1K notes
·
View notes
Text
Sugar, Spice, and Everything Extra
PAIRING(s): SugarMommy!Agatha, Rio, Lilia, Jennifer, and Alice x SugarBaby!Reader
SUMMARY: Str*pper Reader meets 5 interesting older women who wants to own her.
WARNING(s): I'm not sure, lol.
A/N: I saw some beautiful soul who requested for someone to write this fic idea. I thought to give it a try even though I suck at writing, lol.
@lanfear-is-my-darkmistress đ
You adjust the strap of your heels, the mirror reflecting the dim glow of neon lights in the dressing room. Another night at The Velvet Petal, another round of dollar bills and fleeting gazes. Stripping isnât glamorous, but it pays the bills and keeps you in school. Plus, your roommate Wanda, the epitome of balance and chaos, has your back when things get rough.
The music thunders outside as your turn approaches. You don your stage persona: confidence wrapped in sequins and heels. But tonight feels different, charged. As you step out onto the stage, the crowd cheers, but itâs not the usual drunken revelry that catches your eye.
Itâs them.
Five women, all seated in the corner booth like a scene out of a magazine spread, radiating power and wealth. Agatha, with her streak of silver hair and piercing eyes, exudes control, her tailored suit sharp enough to cut. Rio, effortlessly chic in a leather jacket, lounges like the queen of the world. Alice, the soft-spoken tech mogul, hides behind her glasses, but her smirk says sheâs just as confident as the others. Jennifer, a successful actress, looks stunning and polished, her laughter like music itself. And then thereâs Lilia, elegant and warm, her gaze lingering on you with unspoken approval.
As you move through your routine, their eyes never leave you. Itâs unnerving at first, but then... intoxicating. Theyâre not here for the cheap thrillsâtheyâre here for you.
After your set, you retreat backstage, heart pounding. Moments later, one of the staff calls you over. âThe ladies in the corner booth asked to see you.â
Curiosity gets the better of you, and soon youâre standing in front of them, feeling like a deer in headlights.
âSit,â Agatha says smoothly, gesturing to the empty seat in their midst. Her voice is commanding, yet inviting, like sheâs used to getting exactly what she wants.
You sit, your hands clasped in your lap as their gazes sweep over you. Itâs not uncomfortableânot entirely. Thereâs something magnetic about them, the way they move and speak as though they already own the room.
âYouâre quite the performer,â Jennifer says, her red lips curling into a smile. âWhatâs your name?â
You hesitate, giving them your stage name. They exchange amused glances, clearly unconvinced.
âYour real name,â Rio insists, leaning closer.
You tell them, your voice barely above a whisper, and Lilia beams. âBeautiful. Just like you.â
âWhatâs a girl like you doing in a place like this?â Alice asks, her tone gentle but probing.
âPaying for school,â you admit. âItâs... complicated.â
Agatha smirks. âNot for us. What if we made it simple?â
Your brows furrow. âWhat do you mean?â
âWe mean,â Rio says, sliding a black card across the table, âthat we want to take care of you.â
Jenniferâs hand brushes yours as she speaks. âNo strings, unless you want them.â Her words carry a playful edge.
âYouâll have everything you need,â Lilia adds, her tone warm. âMoney, support, and... companionship.â
Alice adjusts her glasses, her voice soft but confident. âWeâre already close. This would just make you... part of the family.â
You blink, trying to process their words. Theyâre not jokingâthis is real. Five successful, gorgeous women offering to be your sugar mommas? Itâs too good to be true.
âWhy me?â you ask, voice trembling.
âBecause youâre special,â Agatha says firmly. âAnd we know how to recognize somethingâor someoneâworth investing in.â
You feel your face heat as they all watch you, their expressions a mix of affection, desire, and genuine interest. For the first time, youâre not sure if youâre the one holding the powerâor if theyâve already stolen it from you.
âThink about it,â Rio says, her hand brushing your thigh as she leans back with a smirk.
âOh, and here,â Lilia adds, slipping a velvet pouch into your hand. âA little something to help you decide.â
When you open it later, back at home, you find a diamond necklace and a check with a number that makes your head spin.
Wanda raises an eyebrow when you tell her. âFive sugar mommas? Girl, youâre either the luckiest person alive or the plot of a Lifetime movie waiting to happen.â
You laugh, but your mind is already racing. What would it mean to let them in? To be theirs?
The thought thrills youâand terrifies you in equal measure.
You barely sleep that night, the velvet pouch and its contents sitting on your bedside table, shimmering under the faint glow of your desk lamp. Wandaâs light snoring from the other side of the apartment is a strange comfort as your mind swirls with questions.
The next evening, as you walk into The Velvet Petal, youâre surprised to find the same booth occupied. The five women are waiting for you, their presence commanding the room just as much as the night before. Agathaâs sharp gaze meets yours immediately, and a subtle smirk tugs at the corner of her lips.
Youâre halfway through your set when you notice itâtheir eyes are on you, but tonight thereâs something heavier in their stares. Possessive. Hungry. The way Agathaâs fingers drum on the table, the way Jennifer bites her lower lip as you lean into your routine, sends shivers down your spine.
You finish your set, and as you step offstage, you know you canât avoid them. A staff member hands you a note:
VIP Room 3. Donât keep us waiting.
Your breath hitches, but curiosity wins out over caution. You make your way to the back, heart pounding with each step.
When you enter the room, theyâre already seated, their positions casual but exuding authority. The space feels smaller with them in it, the air thick with their energy.
âYou came,â Rio says, lounging against the sofa like she owns it. âGood girl.â
The words ignite something in you, a mix of defiance and intrigue. âWhat do you want from me?â you ask, keeping your voice steady, though your pulse betrays you.
Agatha leans forward, resting her elbows on her knees. âWe already told you. We want you.â
âAnd we donât like waiting,â Jennifer adds, her tone playful yet edged with warning.
Lilia pats the seat next to her. âCome, sit. Letâs talk.â
You hesitate, but her warm smile and soft-spoken nature make it harder to resist. You take the seat, the proximity making you hyperaware of her perfumeâfloral, expensive, intoxicating.
âYou deserve to be spoiled,â Alice says, her voice calm and steady. âYouâve worked hard enough. Let us take care of the rest.â
âWeâre not asking you to give up your independence,â Rio says, though her eyes glint with something darker. âBut youâll find lifeâs a lot easier when you have five women devoted to your happiness.â
Jennifer leans in, her fingers brushing a stray strand of hair from your face. âAnd we are devoted, sweetheart.â
You swallow hard, trying to keep your composure. âI donât even know you.â
Agatha chuckles, the sound low and dangerous. âYouâll get to know us. Intimately.â
Her words hang in the air, heavy with implication. You can feel the heat creeping up your neck as Liliaâs hand gently rests on your knee. Her touch is light, almost comforting, but it sends a spark through you.
âYou donât have to decide right now,â Lilia murmurs, her thumb brushing slow circles against your leg. âBut we want you to feel... wanted.â
Rio smirks, her gaze dropping to your lips. âAnd weâre very good at making people feel wanted.â
Before you can respond, Jennifer stands, stepping behind you. Her hands rest lightly on your shoulders, her fingers tracing slow patterns against your skin. The intimacy of the gesture makes your breath hitch.
âYouâre tense,â she whispers, her lips close to your ear. âYou work so hard, donât you? Let us take some of that weight off.â
Agathaâs eyes darken as she watches the scene unfold, a predator assessing its prey. âYou deserve to be treated like the treasure you are.â
Liliaâs hand slides a little higher on your thigh, her movements gentle but deliberate. âLet us take care of you, darling.â
Your heart races as you look around the room, their eyes on you, their intentions crystal clear. Itâs overwhelming, intoxicating, and more than a little dangerous.
âI... I need time to think,â you manage, your voice shaky but firm.
Agatha stands, her imposing presence filling the room as she moves closer. She reaches down, tilting your chin up to meet her gaze. âOf course, take your time,â she says, her voice low and commanding. âBut donât take too long. Weâre not the patient type.â
With that, she steps back, and the five of them exchange knowing looks, as if theyâve already decided youâre theirs.
As you leave the room, your legs feel unsteady, your mind a whirlwind of emotions. You can still feel the ghost of their touches, the weight of their gazes.
Back in the dressing room, you glance at your reflection, your flushed cheeks and wide eyes betraying the storm inside you. You donât know what youâve gotten yourself intoâbut part of you doesnât want to escape.
Back in your apartment, Wanda is sprawled on the couch, scrolling through her phone. She barely glances up as you close the door, your heels clicking against the floor.
âRough night?â she asks, her voice casual, though she finally looks at you, frowning slightly. âYou look... flustered.â
You donât answer right away, instead shrugging off your coat and tossing your bag onto the counter. Flustered doesnât even begin to cover it. Your mind replays the evening on an endless loop: Agathaâs commanding tone, Liliaâs warm touch, Jenniferâs whispered promises, the way they all seemed to orbit you like you were the center of their universe.
âNot rough,â you say finally, though your voice betrays you. âJust... weird.â
Wanda narrows her eyes. âWeird how? Did someone cross a line? Do I need to come down there and handle something?â
You shake your head, though the thought of her trying to âhandleâ Agatha makes you snort despite yourself. âNo, nothing like that. Itâs just... this group of women. They were... different.â
âDifferent how?â Wanda asks, now sitting up, her curiosity piqued.
You hesitate, unsure how to explain. âTheyâre... rich. Like, stupid rich. And they... I donât know. They want to... help me?â
Wandaâs eyebrows shoot up. âHelp you how? Like charity? Or...â Her expression shifts to one of amusement. â...like sugar momma help?â
You stay silent, and thatâs all the confirmation she needs. Wanda bursts out laughing, clutching a pillow as she leans back.
âOh my God,â she says between giggles. âYouâve got five sugar mommas fighting over you? Thatâs the plot of a rom-com, babe. Or, like, a very specific fanfiction.â
âItâs not funny,â you mumble, though your cheeks burn. âTheyâre serious, Wanda. They said they want to take care of me.â
Wanda calms down, though her grin remains. âAnd what did you say?â
âI said I needed time to think.â
She tilts her head, studying you. âAnd what do you want?â
You sigh, collapsing onto the chair. âI donât know. Itâs... overwhelming. Theyâre all so... intense.â
âIntense hot?â Wanda asks, wiggling her eyebrows.
You roll your eyes, but you canât deny it. They are hot, each in their own way. Agathaâs commanding presence, Rioâs rebellious charm, Aliceâs quiet intellect, Jenniferâs movie-star allure, and Liliaâs nurturing warmthâtheyâre all dangerously appealing.
âTheyâre hot, okay? But thatâs not the point,â you admit, rubbing your temples.
âThe point,â Wanda says, leaning forward, âis that theyâre rich, gorgeous, and want to spoil you. Whatâs the downside here?â
You donât answer, because youâre not sure there is oneâat least, not yet. But something about the way they looked at you tonight, like they were already claiming you as their own, makes your stomach twist in a mix of anticipation and unease.
The next morning, you find a package waiting outside your door. Itâs wrapped in elegant black paper, tied with a silk ribbon. Wanda, curious as ever, peeks over your shoulder as you open it.
Inside, you find a designer handbag that probably costs more than your rent, a card tucked neatly inside. The handwriting is elegant and precise.
âYou deserve the best. Let us show you. - A, R, Al, J, Lâ
Wanda whistles low. âGirl, theyâre not playing.â
You run your fingers over the smooth leather, your heart pounding. The gift is beautiful, thoughtful evenâbut itâs also a reminder of the power they hold. They could change your life, make everything easier. But at what cost?
That evening, you find yourself back at The Velvet Petal, though youâre distracted the entire night. When your shift ends, one of the staff hands you a note.
âMeet us upstairs. Same room. We wonât ask again.â
You hesitate, the weight of their words heavy in your hands. You donât know why you go, why you climb the stairs and open the door to find them all waiting, just as they were before.
This time, they donât give you a chance to second-guess.
âWeâre done waiting,â Agatha says, standing as you enter. Her presence fills the room, her sharp suit impeccable as ever.
âWe know youâre hesitant,â Lilia adds gently, rising to meet you. She takes your hands in hers, her touch warm and reassuring. âBut we also know what you need, even if you donât yet.â
Jennifer steps behind you, her hands settling on your shoulders again. âYouâre too special to let go, sweetheart.â
Rio smirks, lounging on the sofa. âAnd letâs be honestâyou want this as much as we do.â
Alice steps forward, her eyes meeting yours with quiet intensity. âSay yes, and weâll give you the world.â
The air is thick, their words wrapping around you like a velvet cage. Your heart races as their gazes lock onto yours, each one waiting for your answer.
You take a shaky breath, your voice barely above a whisper. âWhat happens if I say yes?â
Agathaâs smile is slow, deliberate. âThen youâre ours.â
Agathaâs words linger in the air, heavy and inescapable. The way she looks at you feels like sheâs already decided your answer. The others exchange glances, their expressions a mix of hunger and satisfaction, as though your hesitation has only added fuel to their fire.
âI...â you start, but the words catch in your throat.
Jenniferâs hands slide down your arms, her touch gentle but firm. âShh, donât overthink it,â she murmurs. Her lips are close to your ear, her breath warm against your skin. âJust let us take care of you.â
Your heart races as Lilia steps closer, her fingers brushing a strand of hair from your face. âYouâve worked so hard, darling,â she says, her voice low and soothing. âYou deserve to rest. To feel wanted.â
The way she says it sends a shiver down your spine. Her hand moves to cup your cheek, her thumb brushing over your skin with a tenderness that leaves you breathless.
Before you can respond, Rio rises from the sofa, her movements slow and deliberate. âYouâre overthinking,â she says, her smirk sharp as she closes the distance between you. âYou want this. I can see it.â
Her fingers trail down your arm, leaving goosebumps in their wake. âLet yourself enjoy it for once.â
Alice is the last to move, her presence quieter but no less intense. She steps closer, her eyes locked on yours as she speaks. âWeâre not asking for anything you donât want to give,â she says softly, her tone disarming. âBut if you say yes, weâll make sure you never have to worry again.â
Agathaâs voice cuts through the haze, commanding and steady. âSay it,â she urges. Her hand reaches out, tilting your chin up so youâre forced to meet her gaze. Her touch is firm but not harsh, her thumb brushing over your jaw. âSay yes.â
The weight of their attention is almost too much to bear, your body reacting in ways you canât control. Your mind is screaming at you to think, to process, but your heart is louder, pounding in your chest as their words sink in.
âI...â you begin, your voice trembling.
Jenniferâs lips brush your ear, her voice a sultry whisper. âYes, baby. Thatâs all you have to say.â
And before you know it, the word falls from your lips. âYes.â
The shift in the room is immediate. Agathaâs smile is predatory, Rioâs grin smug. Liliaâs eyes light up with warmth, and Jennifer presses a soft kiss to your shoulder, her touch lingering. Alice nods, her lips curving into a small, satisfied smile.
âGood girl,â Agatha murmurs, her hand still cradling your face. âYouâve made the right choice.â
Rio steps behind you, her hands brushing your waist as she leans in close. âNow, let us show you how much we appreciate you.â
Jenniferâs fingers trace slow patterns against your arms as Lilia pulls you into a gentle embrace. Her perfume surrounds you, a soft, floral scent that makes your head spin.
âYouâre ours now,â Lilia whispers, her voice dripping with affection. âAnd we take care of whatâs ours.â
The way she says it sends heat rushing through you, their touches and words weaving a web around you that you canât escapeâand, deep down, you realize you donât want to.
The air in the room feels heavy, thick with anticipation. Youâre caught in the pull of their presenceâfive women whoâve effortlessly taken control of the space and, now, you. Each of them steps closer, their combined energy overwhelming, intoxicating.
Agathaâs hand lingers at your chin, her sharp nails lightly grazing your skin as she tilts your face toward her. Her piercing eyes search yours, and a faint, satisfied smirk spreads across her lips. âYouâre trembling,â she murmurs, her voice low and smooth. âAre you nervous? Or just excited?â
Before you can respond, Lilia presses against your side, her arm wrapping around your waist. The warmth of her body seeps into yours, and her fingers begin to trace soft circles along your hip. Her touch is gentle but firm, grounding yet possessive.
âDonât worry, darling,â Lilia whispers, her lips close to your ear. âWeâll take care of you. Let us show you just how much you mean to us.â
Jenniferâs laugh is soft and teasing as she moves to your other side. Her hands slide over your shoulders, her touch featherlight but deliberate. âYouâre ours now, sweetheart. Thereâs no need to hold back.â
Rio leans against the wall, her dark eyes fixed on you with a smoldering intensity. She doesnât move, but the heat of her gaze is enough to make your knees weak. âWeâve been waiting for this,â she says, her tone dripping with satisfaction. âAnd now that we have you, weâre not letting you go.â
Alice is quieter, but her presence is no less commanding. She steps forward, her hands sliding into her pockets as she watches the others with a small, knowing smile. âDonât let them overwhelm you too much,â she says softly, though the glint in her eyes betrays her own intent.
You feel surrounded, enveloped by their presence and their touch. The intensity of it all sends your pulse racing, your breaths coming shallow and uneven.
âYouâre so beautiful,â Lilia murmurs, her fingers brushing a stray strand of hair from your face. Her gaze is warm and affectionate, but thereâs a glimmer of something deeperâsomething darkerâjust beneath the surface.
Agathaâs thumb grazes over your lower lip, her smirk widening at the way your breath hitches. âWeâll make sure you never feel neglected again,â she says, her tone promising and possessive.
Jennifer leans in closer, her lips brushing the shell of your ear. âAll you have to do is let us take the lead, baby. Weâll handle the rest.â
Youâre caught in their web, their touches and words binding you tighter with every passing second. You donât know where this will lead, but youâre certain of one thing: they wonât stop until youâre completely theirs.
_-_-_
Please don't hesitate to leave a comment, like, and reblog. Tenchu!
#agatha harkness x reader#lilia calderu x reader#rio vidal x reader#agatha all along#jennifer kale x reader#alice wu gulliver x reader#agatha harkness fanfic#agatha harkness#agathario#kathryn hahn#marvel#rio vidal#dark fanfiction#patti lupone
499 notes
·
View notes
Text
Oops, did i do that?
Accidentally sending a spicy pic to your crush.
The reader is more fem dressed and has a vagina in this- if you want a part b where they donât have outfits just let me know!
CW: Gender Neutral reader with a vagina and fem-like fashion, reader wears bras, no mention of having boobs.
Vox
Vox hadnât known you for very long, you were one of the newer demons working for him. Youâd applied for the job a few months ago.
In that time heâd seen you about four times, but he was honestly thinking of promoting you, you were amazing at your job, good with both the data and the customers, the only thing it seemed you couldnât do, was look at your contacts.
You werenât working tomorrow, so youâd gone out with your friends, youâd purposefully gone to one of the only clubs in the pride ring that wasnât owned by a member of the Vâs, in an effort not to run into your new boss.
Youâd gone all out tonight, spurred on by your friends, see, you had a minor crush on the TV demon, not that youâd ever entertain it. However, your friends had picked your outfit tonight, and you ended up in a gorgeous (if a bit slutty) royal blue dress, sleeveless and short, with a glittery tulle overlay, and some beautiful electric red heels.
You were messing on with your friends in the bathroom, taking photos and just genuinely having fun, already beyond tipsy now. You were sending a photo of you and another friend in the mirror to your group chat, your friend had taken the time you were fixing your hair to add Vox onto the âsend toâ people, you never noticed.
You also didnât notice your phone go off when Vox opened it.
If only that was the worst part.
You finished the night absolutely trashed, your friends working together to walk one another home, most living near one another. You, of course, were the odd on out, and the odd number.
You assured your friends it was fine, you lived in VVV tower for Lucifers sake, youâd be fine! Your friends wouldnât hear it.
One of your friends, less drunk, had messaged one of Velvettes models, whom she used to work with and asked for them to walk you back.
You got back safe and sound, still not having realised youâd sent Vox the bathroom photo, or seeing the demonâs expression as Velvettes model walked you in.
You werenât quite tired enough to sleep when you were dropped back in your room, so you messed on on your phone for a bit, before undressing. You hadnât got to taking your make up off or undoing your hair, youâd gotten your dress off, and just.. stopped.
You were in an ethereal lingerie set, clearly made with Vox in mind.
Pretty blue panties hugged your hips, red electric bolts providing straps, the lace comfortable against your pussy, your chest coved with a light blue bralette, lace spilling against your skin, and the most beautiful glitch effect chain snug around your belly.
You matched this with a black thin choker with a hanging blue electric bolt, and posed against your bed, taking a few photos, changing poses and taking more.
Your favourite was one where you were laid flat, the photo taken from above, you could see your entire body, including the heels you still hadnât taken off, and you were stairing straight at the camera with your painted lips parted.
Satisfied you went to save your photo.
Never noticing youâd sent the same photo to your boss.
Afterall, you hadnât know to take him off your list.
You were cuddled up asleep, still in the underwear, when Vox opened your photo.
You never noticed the power surge then go out, nor did you notice Voxâs name pop up on your phone.
Angel Dust
Angel had seen you around the hotel more than usual, Charlie said youâd recently quit your job to work for someone else, and it gave you more free time and flexibility.
Angel was happy for you, your boss had been a real price of work.
Still riding the high off getting a better job, youâd invited your friends out clubbing, having received a handsome final salary.
You had chosen to go to Hyper-Tech, one of Voxâs clubs, and one of the best. They had some off the greatest drinks, and, unbeknownst to you, that night they also had Angel Dust dancing.
You friends teased you relentlessly about your crush on the porn star already, and they played this off as purposeful on your part, even though youâd had no idea.
You had started the night feeling confident and pretty in your oulfit, but seeing the spider you felt a flash of self consciousness, after all, your outfit was styled on the spiders own colour theme, an off the shoulder soft pink velvet crop-top, above-knee white loose pleated skirt, and pastel pink heels with a hot pink belt and nail polish.
You friends quickly took care of that, telling you how wonderful you looked, that anyone would be lucky to see you.
And getting you drunk definitely helped, the endless stream of cocktails bought with your money, and eventually dipping into your friends supplies brought on a happy buzz.
They also greatly diminished your ability to think critically.
You never saw how Angel Dust watched you the entire time you were in the club, as you progressively got drunker, to the point Angel was shocked you could still stand, never mind walk.
Your friends however, saw how the renowned demon was watching you with concern and admiration.
They quickly concocted a plan without your input.
Angels set finished around 2 in the morning, he waited in his dressing room for you to leave.
You had planed to walk home with your friends before splitting off to the hotel, but one of your friends changed the plan, stating there was no need for you to walk them home, after all, didnât you like live in the complete opposite direction? Another friend had âneeded the bathroomâ and had walked right by Angels door, talking about how you were leaving with the third friend.
As you were arguing about the principle of walking your friends home, Angel Dust came out of club, and said he didnât mind walking you home, you lived together anyway.
Your friends quickly agreed and left, not allowing you to argue.
The whole walk back you were showered with compliments about your outfit, your dancing, your hair, your ability to drink, everything.
Angel walked you all the way to your room before leaving you.
You started to undress, but decided you wanted a photo for this occasion.
In your underwear, a pretty pale pink push-up bra, and a silky white thong, still in the hot pink heels, you took a photo in the mirror, sat on your knees staring in the mirror.
For some reason, you decided to send that to yourself instead of just saving to camera roll.
Only, you never send it to yourself. After the walk home, Angel had messaged you to sleep well, meaning he was your top contact.
Never thinking to check, you simply threw on a pale pink baby doll, took your heels and make up off, and went to bed.
Alastor
Alastor showing up to help at the hotel had never been in your plan.
The radio demon was always an unobtainable shadow, someone you could safely crush on from your own mind, because he would never be in your reach.
Except..
Now he was.
Now not to be foolish, you had figured from his interactions and reactions that Alastor was most likely somewhere on the Ace or Aro spectrum, and you would never push anything onto him.
But you could never even get close enough to talk to him, never mind ask about the possibility of him being on the spectrum.
So you hid. Everytime Alastor was around, you werenât.
Alastor was cooking? You werenât hungry. Al was helping with the daily running? You had work. Alastor was in the library? You didnât want to read anyways.
Alastor always noticed your absence.
Instead you poured over everything and anything about the radio demon.
When he appeared, what he did, where he could have been in the seven years, his rise to power, his abilityâs, his domain, everything.
Your crush on the radio demon was a foolish one, but that didnât stop you from having it.
From dreaming of picnics and ice cream dates, of long walks down the streets of hell, to him taking you apart with his words alone, voice wrapping around you.
And when he stopped those muggers?
You went weak.
So, yea, your crush was unobtainable, in the highest scene.
You could still dress up though.
And you did, frequently.
In pantsuits of dark crimson, to the bloody scarlet ball gown, for the party.
Alastors eyes never left you that night.
Mostly, it was under your clothes.
Pretty crimson baby dolls. Black lacy thongs. Scarlett bralettes. Everything. Your camera roll was full of photos of yourself in the underwear, posing this way and that, full of imagination and hopes you would never act on.
Oh how youâd positively die if anyone saw.
That didnât stop you.
Right now you were dressed in a darling crimson corset, embroidered with darker lace, tied tight, paired with dark scarlet panties, pussy damp against the lace as you lost yourself slightly in a fantasy, black heels and a black necklace, you had posed side on to the camera, staring straight ahead, knees folded underneath you and head tilted slightly up, arms held behind your back.
You heard your shutter go off and stood, getting dressed in a black lace camisole, taking of the corset and heels before heading to bed.
Picking your phone up on the way, you saved the photo to your folder.
Surely, you should have expected naming your folder âAlastor<3â to backfire, but..
Maybe this was a Freudian slip?
Itâs not like you even noticed youâd sent it, and you were asleep by the time your phone when off.
Lucifer
Youâd seen the King of Hell maybe twice, once in passing, and once when he came to the hotel.
It was more than enough for you to crush on the child-like King, falling in love with his attitude and personality, drawn further in by his looks and kindness.
By the time the charity ball came around, you were completely lost for him.
Lucifer showed up in a white suit, not too different from his normal attire, only more fancy, more Kingly, so to speak.
You had taken Angels advice and dressed to impress.
Angel Dust was the only one who knew about the feelings you had for the fallen angel, and he took every opportunity to tease you for it, but he was also your biggest supporter.
You and Angel had knows each other almost as long as youâd been in hell, so his help was soothing for you, and you smiled as the spider laced up the golden gown youâd picked.
It was a golden off-the-shoulder ball gown, with a soft cover of glittery tulle over the top, the skirt flaring out, reaching the floor, covered in rose embroidered embellishments, and paired with bloody red heels, and a glittering clutch.
Charlie had told you all to go all out, and you and Angel did not disappoint.
The two of you descended together, and you caught site of the King before quickly moving your eyes, your blush almost matching your clutch.
Charlie swanned around you, telling you how amazing you looked, and look at your hair!
Angel got you a flute of champagne before leaving you to find Husk.
Traitors.
You walked around the party, dancing with people here and there, doing your best to avoid looking at the King.
You never saw that his eyes never left your form, or how he glared at everyone who touched you.
The king had tried more than once to get close to you, if not to dance with you, to at least tell you how amazing you looked, but you always seemed to move at just the right time.
Charlie had been snapping photos of you the whole night, sending them to her dad, even she saw the two of you pining for one another.
Your flute was never empty, and unfortunately for you, Angel could always recognise when you were about to bolt, and he and Husk would step in to talk to you and prevent it.
Did you mention traitors?
By the time you were finally able to leave, you were definitely tipsy, clutching Angels arm as the two of you ascended the stairs, congratulating yourself on managing to avoid the King.
Angel saw the way Lucifer was watching you, but you didnât.
By the time you were in your room and Angel had left after unlacimg your dress, âwe went all blessed with long arms, Aâây!â, you wanted a special photo.
So you got ready.
You kept your heels on and striped to your underwear, a strapless golden bra with a red bow in the center, trimmed in lace, and panties to match, also trimmed in lace. You kept the sparkly fishnets on too, and your makeup on, before finiding a pose you liked.
Finally settling on a pose wherein you were laid on your back, your knees up and tilted slightly to the side, one hand on your breast, the other just above your head, and your face tilted towards your phone, positioned slightly higher than you, and just above your head.
You smiled at the photo, and went to save it.
You never looked.
Lucifer had got your number of Charlie to tell you how nice youâd looked. Your response?
A photo.
You were asleep by the time Lucifers own response came in.
Husk
Husk hadnât taken much notice of you at first, only that you seemed to come and go with Angel, Husk later learned you were Angels shadow so to speak, Valentino payed you prettily just to follow and protect the star.
Husk noticed you more as you came out more without Angel, not being needed as often when you were in the hotel.
You and the barcat had had some quite good conversations, and some even better discussions.
You knew your way around cards that was for sure, and the cat loved talking with you about card tricks.
Sure no one could match him in card tricks, but hearing you talk about them? Something just felt different.
Husk worried about you and Angel a lot, especially when you both came back late, Angel looking trashed, and you looking slightly high on those nights. It took Husk months to realise Valentino was drugging you both, more so Angel. On those nights, Husk would stay up late to make sure you and Angel ate and drank before going to bed.
Husk never brought it up, and Angel didnât remember, so you never spoke about it. If the cat didnât want to bring it up why should you?
Husk did notice his favourite snack appearing on the bar in the mornings however.
Your crush on the cat had started before you even began talking to him, but those conversations, the way he treated you, how he never made you seem unimportant, the way he looked after you and Angel after Val had been upset?
You were gone.
And the cat was your new home.
Not that youâd ever tell him of course, you would never risk ruining such a wonderful friendship like that.
Of course, there were also nights like these. When Val needed Angel for publicity, those were the best. You both got to dress up and basically just party, no forced drugs or alcohol, just fun.
Youâd dressed in an orange one-shoulder skin-tight slip dress, with a split up-to your thigh, paired with glittery purple heels, a clutch and jewellery, with black card themed earrings.
Husk had seen you just before you got into Voxâs limo and dropped his bottle of cheap alcohol, sending Niffty into a cleaning/laughing fit.
You and Angel didnât get back until 1 in the morning, both of you slightly buzzed, but pretty much sober, not having been forced to fed any drugs and having eaten at the gala.
Husk had tried to stay up.
You feel deeper when you realised the barcat was asleep at his post because he was waiting for you. Sending Angel to bed, you walked over to the barcat and gently shook him awake, telling him he could go to bed.
From here Husk noticed the earrings, and flushed, jolting backwards and falling.
You giggled a little before apologising for startling him, which he waved off.
He headed to bed and you got back to your room. Taking your dress off you caught sight of your self in the mirror.
Pretty orange panties with a tiny club embroidered in at the side, deep orange plunge bra with a spade on the left cup, purple bracelet, necklace, and shoes, pretty orange make-up, and a heart and diamond earring set.
You needed a photo.
Fussing around a bit you finally settled on a pose with you laying slightly over the end of the bed, head and chest tilted down, knees pulled up to the side, camera angled too capture everything, arms by your head, and full body on display.
You changed into some sleep clothes after the photos, and in your sleepy state sent them to Husk, instead of simply saving them.
You didnât wake up until well after Husk responded.
Lute.
Lute had noticed you as soon as youâd joined Adamâs ranks.
Of course she had.
You were the prettiest exterminator Lute had had the pleasure of seeing.
She pestered Adam until he agreed Lute could have her own assistant.
That of course, was you.
Lute loved having you work with her.
Yes all your conversations were about work, and you treat her like your boss, not a colleague, but it wa a better than when you werenât talking at all.
You were still reeling from the change in position so fast, and now having to deal with the angel you were crushing on at all hours of the day?
Your poor heart couldnât deal.
You were a blushing mess under your mask every time Lute spoke to you, praising yourself every time you got through an answer without stumbling or stuttering on the words.
Your friends were relentless with the teasing, going as far as to create hand signals to tease you even on the training fields.
Regardless you excelled.
You had to be the best.
And so you were.
Lute often asks what fuels you, and you always stumbled through a bullshit answer, never remembering what youâd said before.
You never gave her the same answer.
You couldnât exactly tell your now boss the reason you did so well was so she would notice you, could you?
Shadowing Lute meant shadowing Adam. He usually left you alone for the most part though.
It meant going to fancy angel partyâs. With out your mask.
You forced your friends to help you get ready.
Gorgeous black knee length dress, clinched at the waist, with silvery heels, a silver necklace, a silver clutch, and purple earrings, your hair done all nice and make up to compliment the outfit.
Your friends told you you looked stunning, and when Lute saw you, she had to agree.
You spent the entire party following Lute around, you didnât know any of the people here and you were anxious.
Lute kept your champagne topped up, eventually switching you to something a little harder when it became clear you wouldnât settle on the sparkling liquid alone, not used to the alcohol you got drunk fast.
Adam allowed Lute to leave early, so she could take you home.
Lute got you in safely and even placed an aspirin and water on your bedside table, before leaving you, messaging your phone to let you know whatâs happened.
Meanwhile, youâd striped down to a gray lacy bralette, with matching high waisted panties, pretty silver heels, make-up still on and earrings still in.
You wanted a photo.
You set your phone up, and posed, on you knees on your bed, heels just visible, leaned back slightly, one hand behind your bed in a stretch and one on the bed, eyes looking just beyond the camaraderie.
Happy with the results, you went to save the picture, instead, sending it to Lute, who opened it as soon as she got home.
Bye the time Lute replied, you were curled up ontop of your covers, heels still on, sleeping deeply.
Feedback is always appreciated <3
If you want more people added feel free to ask and Iâll do a part two!
Comments are my high.
They make me write faster.
~Vyrus
#vyrus.is.a.virus.#angel dust#angel dust smut#angel dust hazbin hotel#angel dust x reader#alastor#alastor x reader#alastor smut#hazbin hotel alastor#hazbin vox#vox#vox x reader#vox smut#lucifer smut#hazbin lucifer#lucifer x reader#lucifer#lute#hazbin lute#lute smut#lute x reader#husker hazbin hotel#Husker#husker x reader#husk smut#hazbin hotel#hazbin hotel smut#accidentally sending a pic
1K notes
·
View notes
Note
Hey, I've read your last yandere Bruce, neglected fam reader and it gave me an idea. What if instead of the reader wasting all that money or luxury, she saved most of it in a closed account and when Bruce bought the apartment she made him sign it in her name as a plan to when the right time comes or if she needs to, she will sell the apartment and use all the money she saved to leave to start over in another country. Imagine Bruce finding out when she reaches the point where she put her apartment for sale, or better, actually selling it to a friend or someone they know and actually leaving.
Yan!batfam with neglected!sister reader leaving the state/country
Anon your mind is fucking golden! I also thought of the reader having the apartment signed in her name just because Bruce wanted her to feel comfortable but I love the layers this adds.
Hopefully these couple of hcs are good enough while I work on pt 2. Also if anyone else has any questions about any other scenarios or certain characters feel free to send them in I'll try to respond whenever I have time and I write for any gender reader.
Word count ; 1073
Unedited
___
ËÊâĄÉË bruce is not happy with this turn of events at all. He wasn't expecting nor did he sense that this was going to happen, you didn't post about it or even reference moving on any of your social media apps which he lovingly stalks watches over to make sure you are content with your life and also because he likes seeing you happy and enjoying all the things he got you. And it hurts him a little that you didn't even say something to him ⊠he knows you don't owe him that, not when your relationship is still in a fragile state but he's trying.
ËÊâĄÉË he only figures out after someone in the fam(most likely dick) broke in dropped by your apartment and likely scared one of your friends shitless.. obviously both parties are shocked but your friend more so as they don't know who the hell just broke into their house, dick is shocked when this random person claims that he's trespassing in their home. After that awkward situation dick immediately reports back to Bruce about this over the comms and with some digging from Tim they're able to find out that you had sold the house and the exact date that you had, approximately a month ago. That sends off alarm bells for the entire batfam, where are you now?! It takes an hour or so of searching to find out exactly where you moved and when they do they can't decide what to do with the information.
ËÊâĄÉËAlfred is the voice of reason in this family, he discourages the batboys from immediately doing everything in their power to bring you home, he advocated for you to live wherever you choose and says that it's your life and that the family cannot choose for you. Alfred loves you dearly you are basically his child he views you the way he views Bruce. He may be a yandere but he's a selfless one he truly only has your best interest in mind. His words are like a slap of reality for some of the Batfam mainly Tim, Steph and Jason all three of then become a lot more hesitant to go through with their plans to bring you home on the other hand dick, bruce, and damian are adamant that you aren't safe unless they can be nearby.
ËÊâĄÉË Nobody can come to a decision the night they find out and so they decide to sleep on it until they can come to an agreement the manor will be tense for a week or two at most before they spring into action, they will all eventually cave to their selfish needs even if some feel guilty for doing it. Alfred will sigh disappointedly but ultimately allow them to go through with their plans he only hopes you can forgive him for not doing more
ËÊâĄÉË you on the other hand will be left unaware to all that's going down you'd gotten a new phone and lived in a whole new state maybe even country! They couldn't bother you here. You were happier than you have been for a long time. Even if you missed your old friends you still tried to keep in touch over the phone.
ËÊâĄÉË as for why you did this? It's likely the other batboys' faults, Bruce is annoying but he's not nearly as demanding of your time as the others, namely dick. Dick is insanely clingy once you're on his radar and he becomes aware of how much his neglect affected you mentally. The guilt for him was all consuming when he found out how much he hurt you and that he neglected you for quite literally no reason, you just didn't matter to him at the time. the thought now makes him sick, of course you matter, what the hell was his problem!! Dick would have constantly broke your boundaries by hugging and touching and cuddling you he feels like he needs to make it up to you by being a good big brother, even if that's not what you need anymore after all it's far too late you're already an adult but he refuses to see it that way you're still his baby sister. He inserts himself into your life constantly and even if he'll pay for things he'll only do so under the circumstances that the money be spent âtogetherâ like sure he'll take you to that fancy restaurant but it's going to be made into a sister-brother bonding moment, like yeah he'll let you use his card to go shopping but only if he's going with you. Even if you don't use him for money he will still find ways to insert himself into your life. He's overwhelmingly intense and his behavior mixed with the other overbearing members in the batfam plus the added overwhelming feelings of having people who ignored you all your life suddenly want your time and attention is probably why you felt like you had to leave.
ËÊâĄÉË you won't be gone for more than a month or two before your dragged back to Gotham and back to your family, only this time you've got a metaphorical collar around your neck as now you're likely brought back to the manor always under surveillance and on the off chance you're still allowed to own your own apartment again just know it will be heavily bugged along with your phone courtesy of Tim even if he feels bad about invading your privacy he knows they need to see your texts to make sure you're not planning to leave Gotham again. Oh and now the bat members will each take turn patrolling your house and following you from the shadows to make sure you're safe.
___
All in all I'd say you'll have your fun for a little while but ultimately you'll just drive them deeper in their obsession and they will likely kidnap and bring you home.
#yandere platonic bruce wayne#yandere platonic dick grayson#tw yandere#platonic yandere#yandere batfam#yandere batfamily#yandere bruce wayne#yandere dc
939 notes
·
View notes