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etheries1015 · 9 months ago

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Imagining Malleus is going through his heat cycle, and finds himself needing to be guided through the motions by none other than Lilia, of course. His subject? You.

(18+ minors DNI. Afab reader, fem pronouns.) this ones for you, bestie @masquerade-of-misery <3 live laugh love "threesomnia" LMAOOO

How you came into this predicament will be far beyond you. How you were now stripped bare by a hungry Draconic Fae, with your bare back pressed up against Lilias's chest, holding you in his grasp with his hands coming around to play with your sensitive mounds. His hands gently groped your tender breasts, flicking a finger over your hard nipples and pinching them at just the right pressure. Your back arched against his touch and a small and yearning moan elicited from your lips, Malleus looking down at you with a flushed face with his tongue licking his dry and hungry lips. Lilia chuckled at Malleus's eager display.

"It depends on the person," Lilia pointed out as if giving some sort of classroom lecture to the black-haired male, "Sensitivity of the breasts isn't uncommon. However, it seems our prefect here may need a little more than simple foreplay of the bosom to feel satisfied..." He rolled your nipples in his fingers and used the bulk of his palm to give a little squish to your breast, your breath becoming ragged as you melted into his touch, holding back a moan from the back of your throat. Lilia smiled at your rather simple reaction, before eyeing the shirtless fae that loomed over you. Malleus gave him a confused look before Lilia grabbed his hand and placed it on your chest.

Encouraging him to move in the way Lilia had, Malleus placed his much larger and dexterous fingers against your soft skin. His movements were much more uncertain, slow, and passionate versus the older fae whose touch left you thinking about the surprising amount of skill he had and the ability to understand your body the moment his fingers touched your skin. As Malleus gently kneaded your breasts with caution, you were shocked when suddenly you felt sharp teeth dig into the crook of your neck. You let out a yelp of surprise mixed with a moan that sounded rather confused and high-pitched- even your body at odds with the pleasure of your chest and the now throbbing of your neck. Malleus looked up in concern at this, almost glaring daggers at the other fae as if to ask; 'what did you do?'

"The neck," Lilia purred into your ear nibbling the lobe, "Is a rather sensitive spot for humans...biting it is also seen as a form of possessiveness, in both Fae and Human mating. Interesting, no?" Lilia smiled mischievously as he playfully licked the wound he had left, your body shivering at the wet muscle that scaled from the base of your neck before teasing its way to your jawline. Malleus eyed the cheeky fae that held you in his arms, before heading his mentor's words and leaning over to take his place between the other side of your neck. Lilia moved your hair to the side to allow Malleus easier access to mark your neck, his hands continuing his relentless motions on your chest. It seemed he had gotten rather carried away, for you winced in pain and exclaimed "Ow!" when Malleus's nail ended up scratching your nipple. He pulled away, looking at you in worry and quickly removing his hands from your body. Lilia chuckled at this, a seemingly common pastime for him at this point.

"Humans are delicate," Lilia said to Malleus almost to chastise him for his mistake, "Make sure she is alright, and then continue forward. You need to think what each of your body parts are doing, and adapt accordingly." Malleus's eyes caught yours.

"Are you alright, child of man?" He cooed gently, his honey-deep voice immediately setting aside any uneasiness you may have felt. You gave him a nod and the okay to continue, Lilia whispering "Good girl," In your ear before his hands snaked down to the bottom half of your body, also bare for the two men to be witness to. Your legs were closed the time they were experimenting with your breast and higher extremities, Lilia used a skilled hand to open your knee and allow your legs to spread in front of the draconic fae. Malleus stared down at your dripping cunt, taking notice of the slick that glistened around your hole. The growing bulge of his pants became much more apparent as it grew in size, practically begging to be freed from the confines of the fabric he so frustratingly wanted to be released from.

Lilias hand snaked down from your inner thigh to place two fingers over your folds and spread them apart, making the wetness between your legs much more apparent for Malleus to see. You instinctively felt a jolt of pleasure at such a simple touch, your legs almost snapping shut if it wasn't for Malleus quickly using his hands to force your legs apart. Lilias eyes cocked in surprise at this action, his lips curling in a coy smile before resuming his "lecture."

"Human women have their own lubricating system. When they are aroused, they produce this-" He used two of his fingers to rub a few lines from the pearl of your cunt and entrance, holding them up to show off the glistening clear substance that now covered his fingers. "This is how they prepare to take the male in." Malleus watched earnestly with rosy cheeks, almost drooling at the simple idea that you were ready to take him in. Taking this point as the next step, Malleus began to unbuckle his belt to release him of his constricting confines. Your eyes widened at this, and Lilia 'tsked' at this, shaking his head. Malleus looked up in mild annoyance at the red eyed fae.

"Although she produced her own lubricant," Lilia pointed out, "We still must make sure it's safe for her to take you. You must prepare her, first." Malleus furrowed his eyebrows at this, sitting back slightly holding back a growl of impatience.

"Does her body not automatically prepare her for such actions? Is that not the purpose of the lubricant?" Malleus inquired. Lilia shook his head and gently rubbed your thigh, as if thanking you for your patience.

"I understand your impatience, Malleus. But you must understand, despite the lubricant, we want to avoid any injury that may occur for being ill-prepared for the size in which she is to take. To prevent tearing or pain, it's best to prepare her first in order to stretch her out to better take you in. Especially in your case, since most human males only have one." You started at this sudden statement, looking back between the two men bewildered.

"O-one? What do you mean by that?" Lilia looked at you with eyes wide with confusion.

"Hm? I thought you were aware? Draconic fae actually has two phalluses. One is for keeping the entrance of their mate open, while the other is to push their seed in for breeding. Although...it would be in your benefit to start with one at first, to ease you into it." Your face fell at this information, looking back at Malleus with your eyes wavering in concern. Malleus leaned over you, using a hand to place upon your cheek and stroke it gently, his emerald green eyes glowing with lust and affection for you.

"Do not worry," Malleus cooed with his words of honey, "I will be sure to prepare you as Lilia instructs." Biting your bottom lip, you nodded and tilted your head back. Malleus planted a gentle kiss against your forehead before returning back to his original position, awaiting patiently for Lilias's next set of instructions. Lilia continued to hold you against his chest, looking at Malleus from behind your slightly trembling body. The trembling was out of slight fear of the possibility of two fitting inside of you, yet it seemed all the more tantalizing and exciting at the same time...

"Now Malleus," Lilia continued his instruction, his hands trailing back down to your folds using two fingers to caress your pearl in a mix of circular and vertical movements, teasing the inside of your hole with only the tip of his fingertips, not quite indulging into it. you whined and found yourself moving your hips in the hope of more friction, for the bat's touch was light and you felt yourself become impatient. Lilia ignored your feeble movements and continued to explain as if you weren't so needlingly begging for more. "Start with one finger, and when you feel it enough, you can continue to add more. You will be able to tell she's ready by how much she can take of your fingers without feeling too tight." Lilia suddenly pushed two fingers at once inside of you, urging Malleus forward. He watched eagerly as a satisfied hum escaped your lips, your body arching ever so slightly as Lilia massaged the inside of your hole skillfully with his fingers. All at once and far too soon for your liking, Lilia removed his fingers, your slick completely covering them. "Now, you try. Move them like this-" The red eyed fae gave a demonstration to the horned male, malleus nodding before following instruction.

Malleus was much more clumsy when it came to such acts, you could feel it in the way his fingers stiffly entered you with very little fluid movement.

"curl your fingers gently and move upward. Feel how she tightens around your fingers when you do it correctly?" you had to admit, hearing Lilia talk about you in such a blunt manner about the ways in which your body reacted was enough to make your entire face red. Yet, the wetness down below was far more prominent with every word he spoke. Once he was able to add another two fingers, Malleus pulled out leaving you empty once more. He admired his fingers that were covered in your substance, before staring you directly in the eyes and using his tongue to lap up your wetness from his fingers. You weren't sure you could possibly become any more flustered than you already were, yet it seemed possible with every new action both of the men took. Deciding you had been stretched out enough, Lilia had given Malleus the okay to the next step.

The tall male stood up and unbuckled his belt, allowing his pants to fall to the ground and removing his boxers allowing his cocks to be seen by your mesmerized eyes. You watched in anticipation as he shuffled back in front of you on his knees, your eyes never leaving the sheer length and girth that he had been hiding all this time.

"remember what I said earlier," Lilia said, using his hand to pull your legs apart further, "Humans are incredibly delicate. If you are not careful when breeding, you could harm your mate. Enter her slowly..." Lilias fingers snaked back down to your folds and once again used his skilled hand to pull them apart, Malleus pumping the top of the two cocks a couple times before aligning it with your entrance. Lilias fingers remained spreading you apart as he talked Malleus through every inch, yet the second the head of his cock penetrated you, you couldn't help but suck in air and almost pull back.

"t-too.. too big..!" You whined, Lilia hushing you gently and planting a kiss upon your cheek. Malleus leaned forward and groaned, his cock throbbing in desire to bury deep inside you. As you were taking inches of Malleus, you couldn't help but notice something hard poke at your bare back, like cloth that was rubbing against your skin. Lilia was hard. You hadn't the chance to speak up about it before the older fae ignored his obvious 'issue' and continued to coach Malleus through the motions.

"Let her adjust," Lilia said to the black-haired male, "(y/n), Tell him when you're ready to take more. And if it is too much to bear, speak your mind." Lilias's words were kind and gentle, his lips pressing against the lobe of your ear before biting down. After a few moments of adjusting to Malleus's size, you gave him the okay as Lilia guided him deeper inside of you.

"So tight and wet," Malleus let out a deep primal growl from the back of his throat as he was able to finally fully engulf himself in your warmth, "So warm...ah.." groaning while leaning forward and biting the crook of your neck, Malleus found himself trying to push deeper and deeper inside of you. Tears pricked the side of your eyes at the number of stimuli you were receiving, Lilia took notice and moved your head to face him kissing the tears away from your cheeks. "There...Good girl. You're taking him so well, aren't you?" He purred, trailing kisses from your cheeks to your jawline, and from your jawline moving his teeth to graze against the other side of your neck. Once fully adjusted, Malleus began to go at a steady pace with moans of pleasure escaping his lips.

It wasn't long before he was fucking you relentlessly out of pure primal instinct, the room full of wet sounds of skin slapping against each other and moaning. Sweet moans that left your lips with one man penetrating you and the other sneaky hands roaming your body. Lilia used one hand to grope your breast and play with your hardened nipples while the other moved down to your clit and rubbed circles around it leading you closer and closer to your release. You could feel the bubbling pit of your stomach as your walls clenched around Malleus's cock and your back arched, a loud desperate moan slipping from your lips and your body trembling with ecstasy. At the same time, you felt Malleus twitch inside of you, with ropes of cum painting your swollen insides white. Your body went limp against Lillia's chest, panting roughly as the Draconic fae removed himself from the warmth of your cunt. Lilia used his thumb to pull open your swollen hole, watching as Malleus's thick seed pooled out of your twitching entrance. As Lilia sang your praises, Malleus leaned forward and kissed your forehead gently, you taking notice that he was still as hard as he had started.

"Seeing how well both of you did," Lilia smiled, "shall we try using the second one, next?"

You surely weren't going to be pulled away yet, not until Briar Valley had another heir on the way <3

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clefairysoup · 4 months ago

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18+

Switch spence who goes from whining and border line crying while you ride him cant help but completely take over. Pulling your sweaty chests together, holding you close while he begins to rapidly thrust up into you with a bruising pace, leaving you gasping for air face deep into his neck while he moans and whines in your ear, begging you to milk his cock. His hips continuously hitting against yours in no particular order but as fast as he can, hypnotised by your pussy, by you. Bliss quickly chasing you, spencer who doesn't need to be verbally told, feeling your walls spasm and tighten around his cock. Follows quickly with whines and grunts pouring from his mouth.

#rushed this mb #clefairysoup talksིᖭ༏ᖫྀ #my work #spencer reid #criminal minds #spencer reid fanfic #spencer reid fanfiction #spencer reid one shot #spencer reid x reader #criminal minds x reader #fanfic #spencer reid smut #spencer reid x fem!reader

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lo1k-diamonds · 11 months ago

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Sugar Rush Ride 💜

SX Seoul Series | Yoongi's Entry 💜

PAIRING: YoongixReader

SUMMARY: You produced a song based on your hidden desires for your fellow producer and promised yourself that tonight, things would change. You were done pining after him, but then he arrived at the listening party.

WORD COUNT: 12.6k

GENRE: coworkers (mutually) pining to lovers

RATING: R (explicit)

WARNINGS: explicit, pwp (porn w/ plot really), drunk fight (but you sober up...sort of), bratty reader, rough but Yoongi is pro at aftercare, fingerfucking, face-fucking, edging, spankings, his hand is on your neck a lot (am I forgetting something?)

(You can also read it on AO3)

A.N. This is based on the song of the same title by TXT 🔥 It was not planned and maybe it has been done before, but it was too good to miss 😁

Masterlist | Masterpost | Scroll my stories on Tumblr | Schedule and WIPs

Yoongi parked his car underground in a private parking lot before stepping outside into the night in Itaewon. It was crowded as usual, but he paid no mind to the passersby — he had somewhere to be.

He reached the steps that led into a famous club in the neighborhood and entered below the red lines warming up the humidity into steam: SX.

He was giving away his coat when the music from the backroom hit him, the pop music with the codename temptation resonating in the air, and in his ribcage. He stepped towards it confidently, unbothered by the instant boom of noise that hit him once the door opened and closed again behind him. No, nothing would bother him until he found what he was looking for.

He scanned the room attentively, the darkness crossed punctually and rhythmically by the flashes of lights to the beat of the songs he helped produce himself. All but one song that ended up being the main track, the reason why he had rushed to be at the listening party tonight.

He got to the bar and looked around again; he saw lots of people he knew, the artists included. None had seen him yet, so he took the chance to search even more carefully. And finally, his eyes fell on you. You were listening attentively as you held your hair to the side and someone, a man spoke into your ear above the noise. Then you burst out laughing, shoulders and chest trembling with excitement, and your hand landed on the man’s chest. Not in a smack, not to push him away, just subtly placed there in an intimate gesture, or an invitation thereof.

Yoongi was by your side before he knew it. The man with you looked up with a silent question and you flinched and looked back, eyes instantly widening in surprise.

“Yoongi! You’re back!”

You launched your arms around his neck to pull him into a hug, and he immediately knew you had alcohol in your system. Despite this, he reacted the only way he could be expected to — he wrapped a protective arm around you and looked straight into the eyes of that dude trying his luck.

“Right on time,” you grinned when you stepped back. “Inhyuk, this is Yoongi, the producer I was telling you about.”

The guy bowed and said something polite, but Yoongi wasn’t listening. You had stepped to stand beside the guy and his hand had comfortably set on your waist. For a second, his sole thought was, Since when? But then he cooled down.

“I see. Well, enjoy the party. I’ll see you later,” he told you with his eyes set on yours and you got the message.

But you didn’t want to worry about that right now, so when Inhyuk pulled you by the waist to talk to you a bit closer, you didn’t flinch. You smiled and agreed to have another drink while the crowd around you listened and enjoyed the album you helped produce. You were proud of yourself, it was the fruit of your first year of work with—

The main track started and the crowd cheered as it did every time it played. Your eyes watered as Inhyuk congratulated you and clinked his drink to yours but as you drank, there was heat building inside of you. It was funny to hear the lyrics you wrote being sung back at you and fit perfectly at that moment. But then you chuckled, as your eyes fell on Min Yoongi. Your thoughts would always stop as soon as he was back near you. That would never change.

Yet you looked up and smiled at Inhyuk, giddy with your drink and with excitement. You made a vow when you decided to let this song be performed and sung — it was you putting your feelings into your work to get rid of them. That was the deal.

Inhyuk smiled mischievously at you as if he couldn’t believe, but didn’t disapprove, of the song's lyrics speaking so openly about desire, about opening locked doors into seeing stars and asking for more. And you kept smiling and drinking. Because you made a deal with yourself and maybe tonight was the perfect time to go into a new direction.

The song was only three minutes long, but it drove Yoongi to a corner. He gripped his tonic water and faced the bar while the music kept calling to him, Come here more, let’s play more.

Just like the first time he heard it and was covered in goosebumps, wild thoughts coming to him that he had to quickly water down. He sighed; it didn’t stop him from flying back as soon as possible to talk to you about it. Confront you, more like.

He turned to the side to find you by the bar having shots with that guy, and that was it. The full album had played, you had your moment in the spotlight as you should, the artists were having a blast alongside everyone else, and he had had enough of seeing you so close to some guy.

You were on your fourth tequila shot when you felt an arm extend behind you to reach the bar, and you shivered. Not because it was cold; you were sweating from the drinks and the energy of the crowd. No, it was because you knew who it was, even if the arm didn’t touch you.

“We should go,” his voice was steady near your ear even though your head was spinning a little.

“The night is still young!” Inhyuk said as he grinned and grabbed another shot glass, waiting for you to do the same, but despite your giddiness, you hesitated.

You looked up to Yoongi and saw his neutral beautiful lines, and you understood what he was doing.

The guy saw he was losing you, so he moved closer to get your attention, “I can take you home.”

He said it with amusement, like a tease, and you grinned. You were taken by the energy between you two; you both knew where that was going. But then a breath being slowly heaved behind you shook your foundations and you looked down. Yoongi was just doing his part of the deal, but suddenly you were fucking pissed. He couldn’t possibly understand that you needed to be with someone, anyone other than him. Desperately, before you’d fucking combust!

But he was your coworker, the genius producer of your label. And despite everything, you didn’t want to burn a bridge. Inhyuk was not that great anyway.

You shrugged almost innocently, “Maybe next time. It was nice meeting you.”

Yoongi pointed so that you’d go ahead to the exit and you did. Yet with every step, something was bubbling up your throat. There was a lump there, blocking you from voicing it while you grabbed your coats, walked the cold night to his car, and got in to be on your way.

The whole ride you argued with yourself that this was for the best. You shouldn’t have sex with someone after so many drinks, that was not how it was supposed to go. But maybe that was what you needed to have the courage to just move on. To want another man as desperately, and not the one driving you home right now. You needed it, you needed to go crazy and do something you wouldn’t normally do. You needed the regret, to stop playing safe, to stop believing your heart knew what was best for you when all it did was set on someone who saw you as nothing but a colleague.

When you arrived, he entered the private parking of your apartment building and parked swiftly. It made your stomach bubble further with anger, he was just so used to taking you home. That was the deal. Well, screw that.

“Thanks, good night.”

You pushed the door open and peeled yourself away, closing it with a bham only to seek support in the car instantly. Your legs were wobbly, the world was spinning and you cursed in irritation. It was fine before, why was it so difficult now?

His door opened and closed, the car beeped as it locked, then his steps echoed to get to you. And everything was like needles prickling your patience. He stood next to you to help you and you didn’t know what you wanted more: to scream at him or to just disappear.

But he placed his hand on your waist firmly, walked you to the lobby and the elevator, and even dialed your code to enter your apartment. It infuriated you — it reminded you of all the times over the last year that he had done his part of the deal. That he had taken you home safe and sound, and still never seen you for anything more while you pined helplessly.

So you tried to reach your living room without his help and stumbled very quickly, yet a firm grip on your arm prevented you from falling face flat. Normally, you would have blushed, thanked him, and let the politeness and decorum dictate your interactions, but not now.

You pulled your arm loose, “I don’t need a chaperone!”

“And I don't need you to fall and break a leg.”

You threw your jacket and purse over your couch finally with a frustrated huff. The world was spinning and annoying you so fucking much. You needed to scream at him once and for all and be done with it, why couldn’t it stand still?

“Why did you interfere?”

“What do you mean?” He was calmly taking his shoes off after hanging his coat by the entrance and his placidness irked you.

“I was having a good time!”

You barely saw the line crossing his face, “He was no good for you.”

“What? Why?!”

“He just wasn’t,” he stated, walking further inside your apartment like he knew it, and he did. He’d normally stay for a chat after bringing you home and made sure you were okay.

“But why?!” You insisted, eyes so wide they looked twice their size, and still the room was shaky. “What was so wrong with him that—”

“He was trying to get you drunk,” he almost scoffed as he reached your kitchen and started looking around for something.

“So?” You tried following him, annoyed that he was not paying attention to you.

He found a cup and right next to it what he was looking for. He took a black coffee capsule and put both things next to your coffee machine. “He just wanted sex.”

He seemed annoyed now as he prepped the coffee and you threw your hands in the air, “I fucking want sex!”

He paused and looked at you, at your wide eyes and red cheeks. And you held your breath, swallowing dryly. Did you just yell that at Min Yoongi? At your genius coproducer?

“You're drunk.”

He pressed the button to draw an espresso from the machine, and you felt like a volcano about to erupt.

“I’m not drunk!!” He didn’t look at you and you gripped your hair with a frustrated scream. “I’m just not only a fucking worker bee, okay?! I have needs, I want things! So what, sex is too much for you to handle or som—”

A look was all it took for you to feel your guts freeze in place. You were so attuned to this fucking man that his slightest hint of disapproval hit you like an icicle. But it wasn’t just that, it was something else. Disappointment?

And you revolted hard against it; he had no right to make you feel this way. “Then what’s the problem?! I can’t want it? Because I’m a woman or something?”

He took the coffee cup and placed it in front of you on the kitchen counter, “Drink it.”

You ignored it, “I didn’t think you were a prude or conservative, but this is me.” You stepped back and fought the traces of the spinning walls vehemently. “I want things. More than just make good music, I’m not just my work.” He was listening, he was looking at you, but all he did was push the cup the slightest in your direction. And you snorted, “Hell, that’s why my music is good. Because I want— I want things.”

You couldn’t look at him, only at his feet. You thought you wanted to scream your frustration at him, but now you realized that was pointless. It wouldn’t matter. He wasn’t into you anyway.

“We’re not talking unless you’re sober.”

You raised your eyes and his coolness hardened you. Right. You’d get a slap on the wrist for getting drunk at the listening party of the album you fucking produced. For wanting to sleep with another producer. For not being professional? Who the fuck knew why. And maybe sober you’d care about losing your dream, but right now you were just fucking done.

“Right, whatever,” you turned to head to your bedroom. “I’ll take a shower, we can talk tomorrow.”

Yoongi saw you walk a bit shakily but firmly toward your bedroom and then he sighed. He considered for a moment to do as you wished and leave, but he didn’t want to leave you alone. Selfishly, he didn’t want to wait for tomorrow. He was restless, he needed to talk to you about it. And to do that, he needed you sober.

He grabbed your coffee cup and knocked on the ajar door with his eyes glued to the floor. He called your name and you scoffed.

“You’re taking our deal too much to the letter,” your voice sounded strained and he closed his free hand into a fist. “You don’t need to worry about—”

He heard noises and he didn’t think twice; he pushed the door open and found you almost fallen to the floor trying to take your dress off. You huffed in annoyance; you should have sat on the bed but then how would the dress pass under—

A firm hand hoisted you up as if you were as light as a feather and you came face to face with him. The man in your dreams, in your mind, making you scream in your bed just at the thought of him. Making you crazy.

“I’m fine,” you said, looking down. “I can handle myself. You don’t need to bring me home and make sure I don’t—”

Your voice wavered, what were you—

Your eyes filled with tears, but maybe that was exactly what needed to happen, “Yeah, let’s stop that. Our deal? Let’s end it. You don’t need to bring me home and watch over me. I know I’m a woman in a men-dominated company, but I’m not a child.”

He sighed and stepped away and your heart cracked, leaving you to hide your face with one hand and try to press your chest with the other. You knew that to move on you had to push him away, but damn did it sting and—

The scent of coffee invaded your nose and you raised your hand from over your eyes. He was holding the coffee cup in front of you.

“Stop for a second and drink it. Then, we’ll talk.”

You looked for the sincerity in his eyes, and of course, you found it. So you took the cup and chugged the espresso as if it had been just another tequila shot. Then you lowered your arm and looked at him, trying to sense if that changed anything. It didn’t really, not for you.

“Did you hear what I said?”

His lips twitched, “I heard you, but you’re not hearing me. Sober, I said.”

You shrugged, “You said drink, I did. So now we talk. No more deal. No more keeping me safe, no more watching over me or bringing me home. I need to— I need to let it all out.”

His lips pursed for a second but then he voiced quietly, “I’m listening.”

“I don’t know what else to say,” you shrugged and almost laughed at yourself. “I told you I want things.”

“You write about what you want.” You hummed. “So what is that main track?”

“What I want.”

You were looking at him, a void in your mind all of a sudden, but he hesitated. You said you wanted sex and the song was about desire. Maybe he was reading it wrong.

“What do you want?”

“It’s not a what.”

“Is it a who?”

Your mouth dried, so you nodded. You were staring right at the object of your desire but he looked confused.

He scratched his head and then tried, “Did you— Did you use those words on purpose?”

“What words?”

“What w—” He seemed bewildered, “My stage name. You used my stage name. Sugar? Was that on purpose?”

For a split second, you were frozen, livid, shocked, and then laughter bubbled out of you, “I thought I had been so clever about it. Saying sugar instead of suga.” He was staring at you and his inexpression only led you to push the air out of your lungs, “I know, you don’t have to say it. You won't touch me, even if pigs fly. I know that.”

“That's not true.”

You tilted your head, then laughed some more, “Yes, it is. You don't even see me as a woman, I'm just another producer.”

“That's also not true.”

“Right,” you chuckled. “Let me give you reasons to walk out that door right now. I not only wanted to sleep with you but wrote a whole main track about wanting you. About being dazed, overwhelmed by desire, wanting just more. Give it a listen. You know I struggle with titles, but the name of the song was the first thing I had.”

You chuckled again and turned around, rubbing your face for a moment. It was out. You didn’t care too much if anyone else knew, and if anyone had thought of it, they had been smart enough to stay quiet. But now he knew, and there was no going back. Sugar rush ride. You laughed again. You stood by that tile.

“I—” His voice sounded unsure for the first time and you turned to face him. “I don’t— Was it just a rush? You felt a rush at the thought of me and wrote that?”

“What difference does it make?”

“It makes a world of a difference,” he insisted, eyes set on you though he hadn’t moved an inch yet. “I still haven’t heard you say what you want now.”

“What I want?” You were incredulous, “Are you even listening? I’ve been saying nothing else! What?” He was unmoving, but for the first time, you could swear you saw his eyes glistening, and you were out of filters. “I want to be with you. I want you to fuck me already.” You shivered, the strength of your own words working against you. “I have since the day we met. I forgot I had an ex and was heartbroken to finger myself to the thought of you so many times I lost count.” He opened his mouth but you didn’t let him speak, “Shut up. I know what you'll say. I’ve wasted a year of my life. We're kind of friends and we work together. I know all that,” you huffed, exhausted. “So just leave.”

You turned to get to your ensuite bathroom and this time succeeded in pulling the dress out of your body, letting it fall to the ground with a rustle. You turned to reach the makeup remover over your counter and almost missed the way he was still standing in your room, looking at you. You blinked as you faced him, and your nipples hardened without your control with the goosebumps navigating your skin. You had nothing on, you rarely did in events like those. You used it to boost your self-esteem and feel sexy, and now you guessed he knew it too.

You removed your makeup relatively quickly and were curious to look back, and he was gone. You looked down with tears pooling in your eyes; but of course. Why did it all just have to come out of your mouth like that? Now he knew your deepest darkest secrets and would never want to work together again in the future. Great.

You stepped into the shower and let the warmth wash away your worries. You were not a child. You had feelings and wants. They were perhaps misplaced, but you didn’t harm anyone. You sighed; still, maybe it was best to look for a new job in the morning.

Once you made peace with that, your mind wandered to greener pastures, to more heavenly thoughts. You reviewed the expression he had as you told him crudely what you wanted, and it was good. Tense. In your wildest fantasies maybe it could be even a little possessive. And the thought of Min Yoongi getting possessive over you turned you on like nothing ever could.

Your hand trailed south along your skin and avoided the water. Your undeniable arousal made you chuckle. You had just told him you touched yourself thinking of him, and there you were again, like clockwork. He never told you not to, he didn’t act disgusted or look at you sideways, so suddenly you felt egged on.

You tilted your ass up and out of the water and spread your folds greedily, closing your eyes to think back to his dark eyes while you were naked in front of him. It was as if he wasn’t thinking, he was just looking. You didn’t see his eyes running up and down your body, but you didn’t have to. No way he would not be curious, even if he had walked out.

His leaving stung but fuck, was he hot. Now he knew you thought of him and what you did while thinking of him. Your heart stung for a second with the thought that you would lose his friendship, but you got back on track. You were horny and he had created that mess. You tried to kindly tell him to leave so many times, it wasn’t your fault that he lingered until you were spurting the deepest truths and stripping naked to shower.

And now he knew. He knew you didn't like wearing underwear when you had formal events, how sensitive your nipples were to the cold, and that you had a small blue birthmark at the end of your back. Fuck. He knew you were a dirty little whore fingering yourself to the thought of his cock buried deep—

Two arms wrapped around you and you moaned, too immersed in your fantasy to be startled. You were thinking about his arms around you, his chest strong for your back to take support, hands trailing down your body to explore with long fingers ready to spell your demise so easily—

His fingers were next to yours cupping your sex and you gasped, squirming away only to be pressed against his firm chest.

“No, continue,” his voice was a taunt as his free hand seemed indecisive about where to settle on your body. “You want to touch yourself? Go on.”

You stammered his name but his fingers were quickly learning from yours how to trace your heat, spread your slick, and make you tremble. You were shaking, half embarrassed, half feverish, until his other hand finally settled on groping your breast harshly and you moaned. You moaned with a hiss dragging with how much more you wanted, with your ass bucking into him only to rub more to get a better feeling of his hard cock on your ass. He was clothed, you could feel it, but the thought of him wanting this was driving you up the wall.

He was coming to you while you showered, entering it with clothes on just to reach you, grab you, touch you, and make you moan. There was no hiding it now, no possible misunderstanding. He had fingers rubbing your clit while his other hand squeezed your tit harshly, making your legs weak. Nothing was forcing him to stay, to touch you, to listen to you moan.

You bucked your hips again, you were so close to coming it was unstoppable. Yet a logical thought still tried to push through, “Are you sure about this? We're friends— We work tog—”

If only you weren’t rubbing your ass on his crotch to feel him better, to get tighter, to force his fingers on your clit to chase you.

His reply was a whisper to your ear over your wet hair, “You said what you wanted. You can feel how much I agree.”

Your walls squeezed, you were so ready, “You— You want this?”

His hips pushed into you once and you almost fell apart. “Don’t pretend you can’t feel it. I’m asking myself how you never noticed.”

You gripped his hand over your chest and he released the pressure, instantly making you squirm and whine in a complaint. You pressed his hand and he squeezed again, hearing attentively how your moan pitched wantonly. He hummed near your ear, nuzzling your wet skin with a smile adorning his lips. So that was how you liked it.

“No, I—” Your breath hitched with how he was working you and for the second time you thought you would fall apart, but the intensity reeled back to allow you to think. “Not like this. I noticed you treated me differently but I thought it was because I was the only girl in the studio—”

You staggered with a gasp, your body rushing a cold wave under your skin to contrast with the warm water of the shower, but again the sensation eased as the seconds ticked away. And you knew then that it was him, keeping you on the edge and not letting you fall apart. Him with his smooth fingers and nuzzling behind your ear.

“No, not because of that,” his voice was tense as his lips ghosted over your wet neck. “I was… charmed,” he admitted with a chuckle, and when you bucked your hips, he gripped you closer. “But I thought you saw me as a friend.” The thought alone made his lip pull in annoyance, but the slick covering his fingers at your heat soothed him, “I could have done this so many times if you had just asked.”

He bit down on the tender flesh between your shoulder and neck and you screamed, the sting mixing with your pleasure so viscerally that you could have cum on it alone. Only he sensed it too and moved his hand away, dragging yours along so you couldn’t finish it yourself, and you laughed quietly. He was suckling on your skin with meticulous precision and you could only grin widely, euphoric sparks flying out of control inside your belly.

“You could have said something too,” you sounded like you were whining, but you couldn’t stop yourself. He was now licking where he had just marked you and you were trembling, legs so weak it was embarrassing.

He let go and nuzzled along your neck to your spine in between your wet hair, “I didn’t want you to feel pressured. You either want it or you don’t. I thought you’d say something.”

You chuckled, “I wouldn’t ever. You should have known.”

He hummed and leaned back ever so slightly to look at the curve of your ass pressed against him. Then his hand trailed up, lashed by the shower while gently feeling and pressing your soft skin. He couldn’t believe he almost missed this.

“We have to work on that, then.”

You were still smiling when you let your head fall back to his shoulder, “If you did as I said—”

“I'd be out of here without ever getting to touch you,” his annoyance was clear in his voice, and even in the way his fingers pressed less gently. “Without knowing what’s on your mind. No, you,” he wrapped his arm across your torso to gently reach the base of your neck and you looked up, giving him more space. “You are not in charge here.”

He couldn’t have known the way you were grinning. You just let yourself fall further into his embrace, his hand settling on the base of your neck in a way you found comforting. Then he turned you gently to the side and your back hit the cold wall. A hiss came out of your lips quickly, but you were still smiling. Even as his dark eyes scanned you for your reaction, with one hand keeping you still by the neck. You were waiting with a familiar ease on your features, and he relaxed. That was enough.

Suddenly, your feet parted and you were surprised. He had used his foot to spread your legs and the way his free hand was tracing your wet body like he owned it shortcircuited your brain.

“I want to know what this dirty mind of yours has been keeping from me.”

You could hear a hint of eagerness and it was enough, “I won't tell you.”

“You will.” His tone was so sure, like he held the world at his beckoning, that you trembled. You were sure then he would hold yours, turn it upside down, inside out, and you’d love every second of it. “You will tell me every dream of yours, every fantasy, every little filthy fleeting thought. Then maybe we can do something about it.”

“Maybe?” You were eager, his hand was at your lower stomach but seemingly chose to ignore where you ached most.

“Maybe. If that's something you want.”

“I do, I want everything.”

His eyes jumped to yours; he needed to know if that was a spur-of-the-moment blurted line, or if you meant it. All he found were eager glistening eyes. “Everything?”

“Everything,” you confirmed, eyes staring at him like you were seeing stars.

For a split second, he considered that this could not be what he thought it was. Maybe you were still drunk and just talking big, maybe you had no idea what you were saying. But the way you didn’t waver, even as he considered pulling the plug on everything despite being a millimeter away from snapping and making his thoughts come true did sway him. He brushed your jaw once so tenderly and you leaned into his touch. He’d take it easy while he discovered you, there was no rush.

“Alright,” he voiced and lowered his hand. “Show me first.”

“Show you what?” You were eager but you were starting to shiver.

“What you do when you think of me.”

“Didn’t you just catch me doing it?”

“You’re going to look at me this time.”

“Look?” You tilted your head slightly.

“Eyes on me,” his eyebrows twitched.

“Only my eyes?”

“And your thoughts.”

You grinned and looked away but his instant grip over your chin made you look up.

“You sure you want everything?”

You huffed with a sly smile and let your head fall back to the wall, “I’m sure.” His dark gaze was skeptical and your grin widened, “Oh, I want everything, sugar. Be sure not to hold back.”

He looked down to follow your movements and you almost laughed. Your hand was rubbing your clit so you could control your pleasure while his eyes roamed your body, the doubt lingering on his features. You could laugh again, but you didn’t. The way he doubted you was funny because he had no idea how crazy you were about him, but then it occurred to you that you also didn’t know the first thing about him. Did he like to watch? Would he guide you or leave you adrift? He had edged you three times already, did he notice? Did he do it on purpose to drive you crazy?

Would he do it again?

Where exactly was his line? He was quiet now, eating you with his eyes and absorbing every little detail, from the way you breathed to your tongue peeking through your lips, to the way you gathered your arousal to coat your clit. You gasped ever so softly and his eyes instantly jumped to your face, and your lips twitched. You had him. How was it that you had the powerful Min Yoongi?

“What is going on in there?”

His voice was soothing and low, soft as a caress, and you smiled. “You.”

“Me how?”

“You told me to think about you,” your fingers hastened and you grinned.

“I told you I want to know your thoughts.”

You hummed with a smile and eyed him from head to toe shamelessly. You knew what he told you, what he wanted, but what about what you wanted?

Your fingers picked up the pace as your eyes gained a sly glim, and you thought he saw it. If he didn’t, he at least heard the wet sounds echoing in the bathroom.

“Do it slowly.”

You obeyed, so painfully slowly that your eyelashes fluttered, but what truly got you was the soothing of his features. He looked endeared, all because you did as he told you. He looked so sweet, so adorable, so loveable. You wanted to squeeze his precious cheeks.

So you reached forward to touch his face, but he slapped your hand away harshly, “No.” You bit your lip not to smile but his eyes were just hardening. “I’m still waiting.”

“For?”

You couldn’t help your grin as you squirmed ever so slightly against the wall. His precious dark eyes were so focused on you.

“Me how?”

But he wasn’t paying attention. “You right now.”

It didn’t surprise you that he didn’t become impatient, “Just me standing here?”

Your fingers were ever so quicker, “Stiff as a stick trying to control something that isn’t yours yet.”

His eyes glimmed and your tongue peeked out again to hide your laugh. It was fun seeing him being careful, but when would he actually touch you?

“Didn’t I say slower?”

You instantly did, and the recoil of the feeling had you fluttering your eyes closed.

“Eyes on me,” he sounded angrier now, closer too.

You did open your eyes but pursed your lips; there was still half an arm's distance between you. If he wouldn’t get the hint, then you’d have to do it yourself.

“Strip,” you asked, swallowing dryly.

He scoffed and instantly looked down, “I said slow.”

“If you want it slow, do it yourself.”

It happened so fast you couldn’t process it. Like a rubberband snapping, his hand darted to your neck pulling and pushing hard enough that your head banged the wall but not harshly enough that it hurt you. It did daze you for a second, but your lips just formed a grin until you laughed.

Two could play that game, apparently, and he looked so fucking hot when he was mad. You loved that his hand stayed put like a necklace, a reminder that he wasn’t touching your heat, but he owned it. Along with your thoughts and your pleasure, he owned you. And that would have been enough to snap you, but what about him?

So you closed your eyes again, blatantly going against what he wanted, and were not surprised when his free hand darted to pinch your hardened nipple. You moaned instantly, facing him with the same challenge, meeting dark eyes that seemed to have given up on making you talk, but not on making you do as you were told.

So every time you blinked, he pinched you. Your nipples, your sides, your ass, earning moans every time, but nothing more, until he snapped again. He jumped on you and you just made your neck more available for him to latch on and bite. Your moan instantly pitched, and it finally seemed worth it. He was squeezing your tits and biting you while you played yourself to his presence, and he finally was involved in it too.

“Don’t come.”

The joke was that you wanted to do as he said, but you couldn’t anymore. Your moans were higher now, just like your daze, and in a second—

He yanked your hand away, “That’s enough.”

“Why? Didn’t you want to see what happens when I think of you?”

Your voice was light but your chest heaving gave your state away, and the more he kissed and bit down your neck, the worse it became. You needed him, needed more than just his thoughts or presence. You gripped his shoulders to bring him closer, you needed—

A whimper pushed out of you as you hid in his neck, but he didn’t stop. You were sure that had to be at least three fingers just pushing into you roughly with no preparation other than your repeated edging. No preparation came, whatsoever, because as soon as they were in, he started pumping his fingers in and out of you at a vicious speed.

You instantly lost your grip on reality, though not on his shoulders, as even the air seemed to still inside your lungs. The sultry sounds echoing around you didn’t just come from his digits beckoning you closer insanely fast, but also from your whimpers. Because there was a fire burning you from the inside out with every moan as he bit and licked closer to your ear. As your nails sank through his shirt to reach his skin, your legs trembled, and the wall behind you became scorching hot while he pressed you to it.

From deep within your frenzy you couldn’t hear his growl near your ear, or feel the way his drool dripped down your neck or his fingers dag at your skin. He could hear you, pitchy moans quickly becoming an addictive sound, yet this time it was different. Your cunt was squeezing around him like a vice, and the harder it made for him to finger fuck you, the more he wanted to.

“Don’t come,” he grunted right under your ear, but you couldn’t register. You just moaned even more desperately, gripping him to you so hard he thought he’d melt. “You’ll cum when I tell you to.”

He was trying to hold on to something when he pulled away to look at you, but he could see you weren’t listening. You were flushed and panting hastily, avid with your nerves on fire. You could only see him and you had been waiting too long.

“Please,” you sounded a second away from breaking into tears and he admired you for it at that moment. You were so strong for him. And so pliable.

So he kissed your cheek gently and said your name once, taking pleasure from rolling it over his tongue. “Go on, cum.”

And it was all you needed to snap, tears coming to your eyes as your hips convulsed and searched for friction. You didn’t think you needed it because your walls were tensing, and again and again while desperate cries fell from your lips. His fingers calmed down inside you, his breath the same temperature as your blazing cheeks, and you thought a sweet blanket of lethargy would cover you soon.

Only he never stopped fucking you with his fingers, and so you whimpered and tried to push him away weakly.

“Don’t come down,” he murmured to your cheek. “Stay, don’t let it go.”

Your nails sank on his shoulder blades again as you squinted your eyes shut. Tears roamed your eyes as you tried breathing and pushing through your sensitivity. You could handle your clit being sensitive, but inside you, that was a whole different story. You felt like you had been pounded to perfection, only to be further kneaded into sensations you had never felt before.

You looked at him, eyes droopy with whines coming out of your mouth. Why weren’t you surprised?

“Give me another one,” he asked gently, but you didn’t answer.

How could you, he twisted his hand to reach into you deeper and your whole core burned. He was relighting a fire you thought had been extinguished, only to leave you breathless, dripping slick down his hand as you moaned between gritted teeth.

So beautiful, so tense. He wanted to release you.

“Look at me,” he asked softly, and you did. His eyes gave you a tenderness that made your heart convulse. How could he act sweetly like that, as if half of his hand wasn’t pounding your g-spot to bits? “You’re so good. Doing so well, giving me everything I want.” Your only reply was your moans, but you were listening. “I need you to focus for me.” He leaned to whisper in your ear, “Focus on the tension. You’re so tight around my fingers. Relax, don’t fight it. That’s it, move with me,” his voice was sweeter, and you softened. It was as if he was in it with you. As if he could feel it too. As if he was fucking you and not just sticking his fingers inside you. “You feel so good,” his whisper felt like the highest form of praise, and your moan pitched, melting alongside your nerves. He was so happy at the sound as he traced his lips down your cheek to whisper to the corner of your mouth, “Come with me.”

You moved with him once, twice, seeing in his eyes how much he was seeing and feeling you before looking at his lips, so close. He brushed yours ever so slightly in the hint of a kiss, moving with you as if you were jumping on his cock and not on his digits, and it was what pushed you. You pulled him closer and he let his mouth fall to yours, and your orgasm instantly started, forcing you to swerve so you could moan and breathe as you disintegrated.

He let you feel your ecstasy to the fullest, biting his lip and feeding off of your release as if it were oxygen. Your trembling lips, your nails that marked his shoulders, your throbbing walls squeezing and gripping around him in sweet delight. All of you like a charming melody, sweet and utopic. Your moans were music until the very last, and by then, he had to taste it.

His free hand cupped your cheek and coaxed you into a sloppy kiss that you instantly reacted to. You were still not there, though, too dazed from the high to realize it fully; until you did. And you gasped. Yoongi’s tongue was licking at your bottom lip gently as if you were a delicacy that needed to be tasted slowly, and you couldn’t believe it.

You parted your lips to let him in and he pressed you even closer, enclosing you in such a euphoric moment you thought you’d pop like a firework. Like a cocoon filled with dazed butterflies with nowhere to go. He was kissing you and your wildest dreams seemed to have just come true. Tears were still hanging onto your waterline, and when he pressed your lips to move away and breathe, you were scared that it had all been a dream.

“So good, you’re so good.”

His voice was calm and tender, and it gave you the courage to open your eyes. He was so close with his eyes roaming your features swiftly, taking in the smallest detail as if he was finally free to. Then he smiled at your wonder, and you were convinced it was a dream.

That notion didn’t dissipate as he reached to the side to grab a towel and dry you with gentleness, enveloping you in the fluffy material as if it were a cloud. You sniffled, drained from the energy that you had just burned away and woozy from his sweet pats as he tried to dry the excess water out of your long hair.

Not even when he took your hand and pulled you back into your bedroom did the haze recede. Instead, you saw him pull the duvet open for you to get in the bed and you lost the towel and got in without a thought. Once you settled in, you did have your first thought: where was he going?

But he was back soon, and you knew in the back of your mind that he was just making the place tidy: getting the coffee cup from the floor to put it on the table, stopping the shower, and shutting the lights. Then he grabbed your towel from the floor and dried his own hair with hastened movements before throwing it aside. His eyes fell on you and your own picked up on the wet spots on his clothes. He was probably cold too.

“Come here,” you voiced hoarsely, staying in a ball to conserve the heat. He instantly stepped to you, but you pouted, “Clothes off first.”

He blinked and looked down, but then smirked and did as you asked. Of course, he couldn’t make your bed humid and uncomfortable with his clothes. Your eyes were on him, unable to separate from the soft unblemished skin revealing itself more and more. His muscles moved as he bent down, wide shoulders and soft biceps trying to hide the strength he had. But you just observed quietly, tucked in the duvet. You could still feel his fingers inside and all around you, pressing and owning you easily. But you could keep a secret, his power and strength were only for you to know.

He lowered his pants and boxers and your eyes glued to him like a magnet. He was hard and pretty, with protruding veins on a thick length that had your imagination doing cartwheels.

Your thoughts were interrupted quickly when he opened the duvet to get beside you and you shivered. You opened your arms and legs to welcome him, and in your haze, you suddenly thought that it all felt so domestic.

He grabbed your hand and pulled it away to tell you he wanted to lie behind you and you agreed instantaneously. His arms wrapped around you just as fast as you rubbed your ass to his crotch, and he chuckled as he pressed a kiss to your head.

“You must be tired.”

“No,” your voice was a low whimper as his warmth relaxed your nerve ends.

“No?” He sounded amused and soft and you had to admit that his chest was the fluffiest pillow.

“No…”

You didn't want to, but you were slowly dozing off. Slowly, and a bit more with every soothing breath you took together.

You shook and forced your eyes open, “I don't want to fall asleep.”

“Why?”

Your heart beamed and your lips curved; he was still holding you with his mouth to your head.

“Because… it will end,” you admitted, falling deeper into his touch as he nuzzled your hair. Suddenly you realized his boner was half gone. “You didn't come, I haven't touched you yet. I don't want to miss the opportunity.”

“We have tomorrow.”

“You might change your mind.”

“So can you.”

“I won't,” you insisted with a hint of annoyance as you twisted to look back at him.

“I won't either,” he promised calmly, glistening eyes set on you.

Your eyes were closing, the comfort and lethargy were pulling you away. Still, you focused on his lips, “Kiss me.”

He met your lips with no hesitation and you let that sweet touch soothe you. When he pulled away and kissed your nose, you slipped asleep.

When you woke up in the morning, two things made you alert: your soreness and the lack of space. You groaned with the sweet throb between your legs but frowned because something was over you. Turning back, the most precious image graced your vision and made stars twinkle in your eyes.

Min Yoongi was sleeping as quietly as a mouse with an arm around your shoulders as if to keep you tucked in. You brushed his hair aside and his nose twitched, making you instantly melt. Why did he look so sweet asleep? How could he be such a beast as a musician, a genius producer, and a darling in private?

You kept brushing his hair soothingly, thinking that intimately he was not a darling. No, not cute, not sweet. If that throb between your legs meant something, it was that Yoongi was the kind that owned. He owned his music, his process, the studio room, and you, for all you cared. Your finger trailed his cheek as you recalled your words the night before. He said he wanted you, the same as you, and he said he wouldn't change his mind, but what if he did? What if you lost your opportunity the night before?

Maybe you were still half asleep; otherwise, the fact that you were both in bed naked would have meant something. As it stood, you were anxious about what reality could bring. So when he opened his eyes and saw you, your instinct was to kiss him.

You brushed his lips gently but surely, giving him more than enough time and place to push you away if he wanted to. So when he didn't, you became bolder. Your tongue teased the seam of his lips and your hand roamed his chest, and as you got lost, you became vulnerable.

He waited as long as he could. He let you kiss him, let you press, let you push him a bit back into the pillow, let you cup his jaw, but you never moved away. Never stopped, and never changed your mind. You did say you wanted everything, and he thought he had given you enough time to take it back.

So he grabbed your hair and rolled over you to get on top, pushing his tongue past your lips without asking. And you moaned, instantly weak to him taking something that in all that concerned you belonged to him anyway.

You thought that meant a green light to explore him just as he was doing, passing his hand down your side to your waist, but no. You palmed the expanse of his chest and he interrupted his mission simply to grab your wrists and pull them down. He pressed them once to the mattress, then released one to pass his slender fingers between your breasts and you took the opportunity again. Your hand sneakily went under the sheets to scratch his hip up to his ass, feeling how firm he was over you, yet he caught you before you could squeeze him.

“Stay still.”

He could have been saying good morning, yet you puffed, “Let me.”

“No.”

“But I want to,” you pouted and he nibbled down your neck.

“Too bad.”

You wanted to be good to him; you liked him touching you and his hard cock ever so close to your core did make you hazy with want. But as he kissed and licked and palmed and pressed you from head to toe, you grew impatient. Incredibly so when he turned you belly down to do the same down the length of your spine as if he had all the time in the world. Even more when he raised your ass and spread your legs, nibbling at your ass cheeks and squeezing them roughly. Aggravatingly so when he noticed your wetness dripping down your inner thigh and made it his pastime to try to reach it with his tongue.

“Yoongiiiiii,” you whined at the end of your patience, waves of goosebumps driving you insane as he spread your asscheeks more to reach your wet inner thighs.

“Hmm,” he was having way too much fun.

“Let me touch you too.”

And ruin the fun? “No.”

You whined again, “But I've waited.”

“Not enough.”

“Why not?” You were sulking despite your spasms around nothing. He could feel them without directly touching you, and it drove him to bite and kiss harder. You squirmed at his lack of reply, “How long more?”

“Until I say so.”

You shook your ass half in annoyance half in desperation, “I've waited enough. At least fuck me.”

“No.”

It was as though he was shooing a fly.

“Come on,” you dragged. “Get to the good part.” He snorted but didn't move. “Fuck me, come on.”

“No.”

“But you'll feel so good.”

He sighed with your taste on his tongue, “I know.”

“So do it.”

“Hmmmm.”

You thought there would be progress as he touched your core ever so lightly. But you waited and waited for what felt like an eternity. And although the tip of his fingers explored every nook and cranny slowly and gently, even the embarrassing ones, you were still not closer to what you wanted.

And so you snapped, “I asked you to fuck me.” He hummed, but your tone was assertive, “I won't shut up until you do.”

He changed absolutely nothing, wet fingers dragging to your nipples lightly. And so you insisted.

“I'm waiting. How long will you keep me waiting? Should I do it myself?”

Your hand moved and he put it in place instantly.

“I can show you how it's done,” your tone became mocking. “In case you’re lost.” His teeth brushed the back of your thigh and you smirked, “If you never used your cock before—”

A slap to your asscheek echoed and you grinned. It was firm, a warning, but what could you do? You always liked to talk big in bed, and you couldn’t miss the opportunity to rile him up.

“Nothing to be ashamed of— If you don't know where to go or what to do— Should I take over?”

Every slap felt like a win and that last one wasn't any different. He gave more of him when he did it, and you felt it in the sting, the touch, the attention. When he grabbed your asscheeks and squeezed until you cried out, you thought that he might be holding back.

“You talk too much,” he said quietly.

“And you fuck too little.”

He pushed you harshly to fall with your belly up and grabbed your head firmly in place, using his body over you to fully press you down the mattress.

“I like to fuck people who indulge me.”

“Liar.” It escaped your lips before you could think. You were too horny to think, but then you laughed, “Fucking liar. You're rock hard, you want to fuck me so bad is not even funny.”

“Your point?”

“You like it,” you whispered, raising your head to reach his lips, which he didn't let happen. You looked into his eyes, “You like what I'm saying. You adore every spank and every little reason I give you to do it.”

His expression didn't change except for the laughter in his eyes, “Can you blame me?”

“Fuck no.”

“Is it a problem?” He seemed cautious.

“Yoongi,” you sighed. “I said everything.”

His lips finally showed a smile as he got on his forearms to look at you with new eyes.

“But Yoongi,” you called with a pout. “I did wait long enough.”

He grinned widely, so endearingly you wanted to kiss his entire adorable face. So loveable you wanted to drive him crazy.

“You'll wait as long as I tell you to.”

He seemed happy now as he leaned to kiss and play with your chest, pink tongue messing with your perky nipples to the point you squirmed. And it felt good, so good your legs were restless under him, opening but struggling to get him to align. He tortured your nipples, suckling and biting only to smile at your fussiness. You could only take so much.

You squealed, “If you don’t put your cock in me soon I’ll fucking scream.”

“Scream?” He was amused, barely separating his mouth from your breast.

But you sucked in a breath and screamed at the top of your lungs. Only for a second though; his hand covered your mouth and forced you to look at him.

“Shut it.”

He raised his hand carefully with your eyes locked, and all you did was roll your hips to get his cock near your dripping core. You thought he had learned something, so when he moved too but against you, keeping what you wanted purposefully at bay, you decided that holding back was not getting you anywhere.

You threw your head back and screamed again, and when his hand darted to muffle it, you bit it.

You took another breath, but before you could scream his hand wrapped around your neck firmly. You looked into his eyes as lightheadedness relaxed your neck and shoulders. He was so careful, but you were at such ease.

“Are you going to be quiet?”

His fingers were perfect around your throat, “I want to cream your cock so bad.”

Your voice was a wanton whine as your glistening eyes focused on him. You couldn't describe how much you were melting, how much he relaxed you only to tense you up the next second if he so chose to. How much that drove you to want him like crazy.

“Is that a dirty thought?” You nodded once, pleading with your eyes. He nuzzled your nose sweetly, “Not yet.”

“Then I won't be quiet.”

Your voice was gentle like a breeze but carried consequence, and when he nuzzled you further, you knew everything went both ways. He knew it too, and he wasn't stopping you.

You tentatively tried a scream and his hand wrapped firmer, observing you with sparkles in his eyes.

You huffed, cheeks becoming hot, “Why won’t you just do what I want?”

“Why won’t you quiet down?”

“And do your job for you?”

You could see the smile in his eyes — he knew you were embarrassed. He was just seeing how far you’d go in your brattiness, but you were so horny you were lost.

“All I’m asking for is your cock, don’t you have one?” He raised an eyebrow at your taunt; you could both feel his hard shaft pressed to your thigh. “So why don’t you shut me up? Do you need me to tell you how to use your dick?”

“Just because you’re needy and desperate, it doesn’t mean you should get what you want.”

The burn traveled to your chest; he was scolding you and it was like you’d been shaken. Of course, he’d answer you and deal with your attitude. You never thought he’d be the type to let it fly but to actually have him doing it was burning you from the inside out.

“But what I want is you,” you sighed, batting your eyelashes flagrantly. “Let me get on my knees, I’ll do whatever you like.”

He took only a second, “No, I like where you are.” You grinned in absolute joy; you also loved being under him with his hand around your neck. You felt taken care of and grounded, even as your mind became chaotic in the hazyness. “And there goes another dirty thought, hm?”

You bit your lip, “In my fantasies you always give it to me so right.”

“This isn’t a fantasy anymore.”

You grinned, “No, thank fuck. You look so much better pissed off in real life.”

He raised an eyebrow, “You want to piss me off?”

You almost laughed, “I want you to fuck me.”

“I never said I wouldn't,” he adjusted his hips but purposefully made it impossible for you to have him, and you squinted. He was smiling, “I just told you to wait.”

“And I told you I’d scream.”

You were snappy and he grinned, “Can’t we be civilized about this?”

His lips ghosted you and your chest burned again, “Nothing civilized about the way I want you to fuck me senseless.”

Your voice was wanton, bordering a moan as your hips rolled just to feel the tease of his cock near your core, and he kissed down your chin, “So you’ll scream?”

“Like hell.”

“No changing your mind?”

“Fuck no. Stop stalling,” you whined, moving your spread legs in the hopes of catching him, but he only chuckled.

“Go on, then.”

He got off you and you huffed in annoyance and screamed. It was short and you opened your eyes to see him just observing you with amusement. Why was it so funny to him when you were getting upset?

So you took a deep breath and screamed again and this time your lips pulled in a smile because what the heck were you doing?

“That’s it?”

His taunt had you take a deep breath and scream again, only to fall short. You covered your eyes and stifled a laugh. It reminded you of how you screamed on roller coasters.

“You must not have enough reasons to scream yet.”

You bit your lip, imagining the reasons you could have, the ways he could make you scream. The bed dipped next to you but you stayed in your reverie. In it, Yoongi touched you. He slapped your cunt with his cock and promised to use you. He grabbed you by the neck while he pounded into you so hard you saw stars.

You huffed in impatience, neediness making you bold; you were about to sit up and do something when you stopped. He was throwing his leg over you and his cock was so close your eyes nearly crossed. He grabbed your head in place, but you were staring, fixed, jaw falling open and lax instantly. You could pretend you wanted to scream more but you were just salivating, so when he aimed his cock at you, you just met him halfway.

His taste hit your buds quickly and moved to reach your throat, and you lost it. Your eyes rolled as you closed them, the salty traces leaving you dizzy, and the way he pushed himself down your throat made you squirm in waves of pleasure. It felt hot and intense and wild as he did it again and again, each time getting a better sense of how much you could take. You barely cared about breathing; he was finally using your mouth, fucking you, showing you how much he wanted you without holding back, and with each push, he made you feel better than the last. Elated, special — he was groaning and getting riled up down your throat because you made him feel that good.

Suddenly, he pulled back and you followed him as long as you could before he grabbed your arms and raised them above your head to stop you. He had heard you choke so he was probably worried, but you only sighed in impatience.

“So greedy,” he taunted, pressing your wrists down firmly. But he had a glint in his eyes — he was paying attention to you. Not worried, just caring.

“Aren’t you learning?” You said as you tried not to melt, but it was too late. He chuckled and his smile made you happy. “Keep going,” you asked softly, despite the tears running down to your hairline. “Please.”

He brushed his thumbs on your wrists for a second with his eyes set on you. You were such a handful and he couldn’t love it any better. Asking for him like that secretly drove him crazy, and made him want to give you everything you could ever wish for, no matter what. So when you leaned back and opened your mouth, it was his pleasure to stuff it with his dick. He grabbed your wrists more firmly and supported his weight on them to help him lean forward and give you the fucking you craved.

Time and time again he snapped his hips to get his cock down your throat, and it was challenging. His muscles were burning, but so were his lower stomach and balls as he tried not to come. You moaned and choked and bounced as he fucked your head into the mattress, and yet you were totally relaxed. Your arms and hands were still, calm as you got used and loved it. And he loved it too, but for your first time together and after skipping it the night before, he thought this time he wanted more.

He pulled away from you and it took you a second, but you instantly sulked. He settled between your legs as you cleaned the drool, “So I’m not going to swallow the sugar rush?”

He chuckled, “No, not this time.” You pursed your lips and were about to whine about him stopping so soon when he asked, “Do you have a condom?”

Your eyes widened and you instantly scrammed to conjure up one. Shit, shit shit, you thought as you turned your room upside down, then your toiletries, then your bathroom. Why the fuck didn’t you have one? Well, sure, you knew why, but you were so angry now. You could not miss this opportunity!

You turned to your kitchen, desperate at that point until you gasped. You searched for your first aid box and dug until you finally found a lost wrapper. You waved it victoriously as you strode back to your room and to bed, and Yoongi was there to receive you with a look you couldn’t identify. He grabbed your arm and threw you on the bed before pinning you down from between your legs and kissing you till you lost your breath.

If he wanted to fuck you before, now he wanted to screw you so hard you’d only ever remember his cock. To think you said you wanted to be with him the whole last year, and that you hadn’t been with anyone else because of it made him wild. Why had you both played it so safe? He had been to your apartment so many times, set you to sleep on that very same bed, and yet never once did he get the inkling that you wanted him. Not as he wanted you. But just now, you were dripping with how much you wanted him, squirming, begging for him to fuck you, and trying to rile him up so he would. You jolted at his fingers in your folds, rubbing your chest to his for any hint of a touch, moaning when he pulled your head back by your hair. You wanted him bad and he was going to give it to you.

He pulled away from you and you almost screamed in frustration, but seeing him putting the condom on cooled you just enough to stay quiet. Your hands even stayed above your head voluntarily as you waited patiently, thinking he wouldn’t waste that condom, he’d surely fuck you finally.

You moaned suddenly and looked down, confused for a second, but you weren’t dreaming. He was grabbing his cock and slapping your cunt with it right over your clit. You squirmed with need, but he kept doing it harder and harder, wet sounds echoing with your excitement.

“Fuck, I just knew it,” you mumbled, clenching around nothing right before his eyes.

“Knew what?”

“That you’d do that,” you moaned, hands tightly gripping each other so you would stay put.

He hummed as he did it quicker, seeing your slick connect to his cock, “That so? What else do you think I’ll do?”

You were burning all the way to your shoulders, trying to move with him so that his cock could give you friction, and he didn’t stop you. So you answered through gritted teeth, “Stick it in, get deep, fucking use me until I’m stuffed with your cum.”

Your voice disappeared with the lack of breath; he was dragging his cock over your clit now and it was the sweetest reward.

“Filthy thoughts you’re having, hmm?” You were lost in your motion, rolling your hips to earn that friction so you gasped when he pushed his cock inside you, loving the burn as your core split to accommodate his girth. “Read my fucking mind.”

You screamed when he bottomed out, biting your lip with the way he was forcing himself inside you. Then you opened your eyes to see him and instantly clenched around him, and he smirked.

“Been thinking about fucking me, huh?” You could barely hold a thought, but the opportunity to tease him was too sweet.

“It has crossed my mind,” he said and snapped his hips, and you didn’t know whether to gasp or moan. He’d hit you deep and hard, you knew he would, and it made you even tighter. His nails dag at your hips, “So many times.” He was starting slow but deep and you could do nothing but moan. “How you would moan, what you would want, how you would give in and let me take you,” every wish was pointed by a deep thrust. “Now look at you.” You looked down: your tits were bouncing with every hit, gushing sounds echoed along with your moans from how wet your heat was, and the sight of his thick cock pushing between your slit to enter you was the cherry on top. It was the can of cream about to blow you full, and you wanted to get filled. “Almost cuming even though I’ve barely started.”

“Cause you feel so good,” you breathed in a moan.

He leaned to grope your taunting tits, “You told me to use you.”

“Fuck, please.”

He gritted his teeth and adjusted you better so he could pick up the pace. And what a vicious pace it was, fast and steady, leaving you so hazed and lost, that you had no words. He slapped your tits around and you clenched, tears roaming your eyes with how good and sweet it was. It didn’t hurt, every touch sparkled pleasure in your veins, and the sight of him hitting and scratching, his squeezes on every bit of you only made you even more sensitive. More elated and euphoric, so much so you were mumbling more with every moan involuntarily. He was slapping and roughly marking your chest as you asked, and suddenly you threw your head back and looked at him.

“Harder,” you asked out of breath, and he slapped your tit so hard you screamed before moaning deeply. “Just not my face.”

You thought to tell him from within a glimpse of logic, and he nodded and took note of your limit. Instead, he leaned forward and groped both boobs again and you squirmed desperately.

“Squeeze,” you breathed, your moan pitching. He did, but it wasn’t enough, “Please!”

He did, a bit harder with every thrust into your messy cunt. It was maybe selfish, but he wanted to see how you unraveled. How you wanted those strong sensations, how you craved something more intense each time and with every bit of strength, you transformed it into a beautiful pleasure that had you bursting.

He saw you coming again, writhing around thoughtlessly with the intensity of your pleasure, so hard he didn’t have to look down to see you throbbing around his cock. He still did though, mesmerized by it, only to chuckle. You had left a ring of white around the base of his cock; you just had to have your way in the end.

He leaned in to kiss you through your haze, slowly sensing with his lips the condition you were in. At first, your reaction was delayed, the brush of your lips falling behind as you recovered. But then you reacted and pushed back against his tongue, and he knew you were good.

He pulled back and turned you around, and you helped and got on all fours instantly. He didn’t wait, he aimed his cock at you and entered your velvety embrace as soon as he could. You arched your back for him and pressed back into him a couple of times to feel him deeper, and he grinned.

“Finally. So obedient,” he taunted, squeezing your ass cheeks to spread for him.

“You’re finally fucking me senseless.”

Your voice was a whisper, and he smirked. You asked him to use you, and he was doing a good job at it. But now he wanted to make you scream, to mark you so hard you’d never be anything but his. He couldn’t help it; now that his cock was shoved deep inside you, he didn’t want anything else. Now that he knew what you tasted like, what you sounded like, and how filthy your mind and mouth could be, he wanted nothing else. He saw you trying to get him deeper, huffing and puffing as you swayed with him, and his chest tightened. The possessiveness you were inspiring in him was raw and dangerous, but he didn’t want to fight it.

So he gave you both what you wanted: he smacked your ass as he pounded into you, seeing the way it bounced in either direction until he couldn’t focus anymore. Until he was desperate to own you, to hear you scream, to know you’d beg for him forever. It wasn’t enough; no matter how hard you screamed, he wanted more and he wanted it to last.

Grabbing your hair to pull it into showing the beautiful curve of your neck was a mistake, though. Suddenly he saw how beautiful you were, vulnerable and immersed in every sensation he gave you. He wanted you to be his, and suddenly it hit him that you already were. And you loved it.

And it snapped his senses, overthrowing his strong grip on his pleasure as if he had never had any. He became sloppy but still held on to your hips to sink and cum as deeply inside you as he possibly could. He groaned with every peak, jerking to milk the sensation between your tight walls as best as he could until he stilled. Fuck, how the hell did you do that to him?

He noticed then you were trembling and his priorities immediately surfaced, “Are you okay?”

You hummed, but he wasn’t having it. He pulled out despite your whine and helped you to softly lay on your side. Then he hopped off the bed, dealt with the condom, and searched around for water and a snack.

You were still stunned, out from the intensity of the emotions that had tensed and relaxed your body simultaneously. Your soul didn’t know how to handle what just happened, and the only thing that occurred to you before he came back was that you had totally surrendered. You didn’t force yourself to be tame and quiet, or said and did what the other person wanted so you wouldn’t ruin it for them. You were yourself, through and through, and Yoongi fucking ate you up like dessert.

The bed dipped behind you and you turned to him, sighing happily when he pulled you in to snuggle.

“Here — water and chocolate.”

You glanced at the bottle and bar and smiled widely. Your heart was right all along, and although you knew it was definitely too soon, there were special words at the tip of your tongue trying to get out.

Instead, you let him insist and sit you up to take a sip of water and a bite before letting you fall back into his arms in a sweaty embrace that you wanted with all your heart.

He was kissing your head and tracing your arm quietly when you decided to tell him, “Next time cover me with cum.”

He raised an eyebrow as he glanced at you, and you pouted.

“Just… You wanted to know what I think about.”

“You think about that?”

“Sometimes.”

He smirked and squeezed you inside his arms, “What else have you been hiding from me?”

“You have no idea,” you laughed.

You were melting and relaxing into his touch as he pecked your head when he whispered, “Are we bad?”

Your heart hurt for a second, what? But then you realized what he was saying: your song. When you wrote a conversation you once imagined you both could have had:

You're bad, you liar.

It's me who's bad, I know this bad desire, sugar.

So you chuckled and sang along to the melody, “What did you do to me, sugar?”

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talaok · 9 months ago

Text

The sweetest remedy

Pairing: Joel Miller x f!pregnant!reader

summary: Joel has a bad day at work, but you know how to make him forget all about it

warnings: Joel is very much in love with his pregnant wife, a bunch of fluff, smut| oral sex (f receiving), Joel takes care of himself but you still swallow, fluffy smut, Joel being the pussy eating king that he is

"what's wrong?"

He'd taken one step into the house and you could already tell something was off

His forehead was creased with lines of annoyance and exhaustion, and by the way he was discarding his boots and jacket you knew he was pissed.

You were on the couch, your body turned towards the entrance, towards him, the tv muted behind you

"nothin'" he grumbled, setting his keys on the counter

"baby" you cooed, pouting softly "c'mere"

And of course, he did

Seeing you was all that made him survive these types of shitty days at work

Especially when he knew you'd be waiting for him in those flimsy summer dresses you loved to wear in the summer,

and especially since he'd gotten your belly to swell with the gift of a child.

You were five months in, and he fell in love with you all over again every time he looked at you

He had you straddling his lap the moment he sat down, his hands on your waist and his eyes all over you.

"tell me what's wrong," you asked again

You hated seeing him all troubled, he deserved nothing but happiness this man of yours,

because that's what he brought to you every single day

He sighed, before nodding slowly

"it's jus' the guys at work babygirl," he said "nothin' you gotta worry about"

you didn't pay attention to the last part

"What did they do this time?" you asked, softly caressing his chest to try and soothe him

"one of 'em didn't show" he grunted, the palms of his rough hands starting their journey from your pregnant belly to your butt and thighs

"Again?" you raised your eyebrows, annoyed too now "I don't understand why you don't just fire them and get new guys"

The first little smile since he first came home tugged at his lips

"what a coldhearted little boss you'd make" he joked, smirking softly.

You rolled your eyes, biting down a grin of your own

"you know I'm right"

He pushed you even closer to him before responding, wanting to feel more of you, all of you

"I know you are babygirl" he nodded, his forehead to yours now "but you know how I am... I know these guy's stories and evrythin'- I jus' don't have it in me"

Ah that's right

Who could have ever expected such a rough and tough exterior to be hiding such a softie

"you're too nice for your own good, Miller" You couldn't help but smile, softly kissing his cheek

He only grunted in response, losing himself in the scent and feel of you

"'m gonna have a talk with him Monday, I'll see what he has to say for himself"

You nodded, watching him closely

"that's a good idea" you murmured as you let him guide your mouth to his, impatiently kissing you as he'd dreamed of doing since he took the first step out of the house this morning.

You let him taste you, his tongue in your mouth and his beard against your skin, until you both needed air and had to lean away

But something seemed still off, usually, he only needed to feel your lips on his to forget all about his day, but today... today that little shadow in his eyes was still lurking in his iris

"baby" you pouted, your hands reaching for his cheeks to gently take his face in your hands "what can I do to make you feel better?"

And in retrospect, you didn't even know why you asked,

Your husband might have been a gentleman and a hard worker and everything else in this entire world... but he still was just a man.

A man that happened to love the taste of his wife more than anything on this earth

Which is why he didn't waste a moment before murmuring

"y'know what I need babydoll"

God but the way his voice always dropped an octave and that sweet southern drawl got more noticeable every time he needed you was more than enough to impregnate you all over again

"you're insatiable, Miller" you shook your head, laughing that light laugh of yours that made him feel summer breeze and sunshine all over him even on the coldest day of winter

But he didn't laugh, oh no, Joel Miller didn't laugh, he only looked at you, admired you, as you made your decision

"alright" you smiled, getting off his lap with a low groan, before laying on the couch, propping a pillow on the armrest so you could set your head on it to not have your belly cover the best part of the show, which of course, was your husband between your thighs.

just like he was now.

Good Christ and heaven all tougher did he look fucking hot like that,

his eyes fixed on your clothed core, his pupils big and dark with lust, his hands gripping the outside of your legs, his breathing almost as quick as yours...

His eyes found yours as his nose plummeted to your core, his nostrils flaring as he did what would make any woman self-conscious,( that was of course, if they weren't married to such a depraved and pussy obsessed man), he smelled you, he smelled you like you would with a good meal before devouring it, the tip of his nose ever so gently rubbing against your clit in the process.

You whimpered like you always did, and, like he always did, he only continued with his torture.

His tongue felt good even though the soaked material

"Joel" you whined now, as he licked slowly and thoroughly,

He resisted the urge to make you come like that, although he'd proved times and times before that he very well could,

he only stopped when there wasn't a spot on your underwear that wasn't drenched, and your chest was rising and falling faster than the speed of light

That, only that, was when his fingers reached for the fabric covering your core and pulled it to the side, his eyes falling to the work of art between your legs

he didn't say anything, he couldn't, he only groaned before he was devouring you whole

"oh my f-" you cried, your back arching from the couch as his hand seeped underneath your dress to get to your belly, his eyes finding yours again "f-fucking god baby"

He groaned again, his tongue drinking up everything you gave him, swirling over your clit over and over again, getting you utterly desperate just to tease you and fall to your hole, threatening to enter and forcing a gasp out of your mouth

your thighs squeezed around his head just like he liked it, robbing him of almost all oxygen as he buried his whole face into your weeping cunt.

"Joel- baby- p-please"

but he was back at sucking your clit, and all the words in your vocabulary got replaced by mindless, animalistic moans as one of your hands shot to his hair, gripping his hazel locks tightly as your hips started grinding onto his face, his nose, his mustache, his everything

And fuck if he didn't love it, if he didn't live to see you use him for your own pleasure, drenching his face and the couch beneath you with all your sweet juices as you whimpered and moaned what alternated between curses and his name with that irresistible desperate voice of yours.

Yeah, there was nothing that could ever beat this,

the feeling that he got every time you came apart like this was something that could have only been described as a glimpse of heaven, with the angels singing and everything too.

"f-fuck" he knew that high pitch cry, oh he knew it really fucking well "baby I-"

And you didn't even have to tell him, he already knew.

He continued feasting on your pussy, letting you chase your own high, and before you knew it, your head was thrown back and a wildfire of pleasure spread through your whole body, from your toes to the ends of your fucking hair.

You would have guessed you'd just run a marathon by how fast your heart was beating

"you're the most gorgeous woman on this planet" Joel murmured more to himself as he kissed the inside of your thigh, sending a shiver down your spine, before crawling up to ghost your lips "with the sweetest fuking pussy too"

You could only let out a silly laugh before he kissed you, letting you have a taste of that sweetness.

But when you didn't feel him grind what you knew must have been a rock hard erection underneath his jeans, on your core like he usually did, you frowned, as you watched him sit up instead

"baby?" your forehead creased even more in puzzlement once you watched him undo his zipper and pull out his aching cock, not looking even remotely interested in making a move to position himself at your entrance

"what are you doing?" you finally asked, sitting up too now

He wrapped a hand around his dick as he answered

"You're still sore from this mornin'"

What does that have to do with anything?

"but-"

He shook his head, watching you closely with that honest care that he only showed you "no but" he declared "I don't wanna hurt you babygirl"

And although you would have liked to argue, you knew that since you'd gotten pregnant, his protective side had somehow gotten even more hard-headed, and changing his mind was damn near impossible, which is why what you did instead, was change the tactic

"I still have hands... or a mouth, you know?" you cocked an eyebrow, eyeing his manhood

You didn't miss the way his member twitched ever so little at the proposal,

but then again, he had always refused you going down on him since the pregnancy, not because he didn't want to, fuck- god only knew the unspeakable things he'd do to let that pretty mouth of yours take care of him, no, the reason was he simply didn't want you to go through all that just for him, for his insignificant pleasure.

"All you gotta do is just sit there and look pretty, sugar" he murmured, finally starting to stroke himself, groaning lowly as he did

Your breathing faltered at the image, his large hands fisting his cock hard, stroking up and down in a way that looked incredibly natural and incredibly intimate at the same time.

And even if he'd ignored your proposal, you couldn't help but smile before pressing a kiss to his neck, right where his pulse was fighting against his skin.

And while you did that, now softly peking every inch of skin not covered by his shirt, you started undoing the straps of your dress, letting them fall down with the top of it once you were done

"like this?" you asked, biting down a smirk as Joel let out a desperate moan at the image before him.

God your tits looked even fucking better now, so full, so soft, so- so fucking perfect

"sweet Jesus" he groaned, his eyes panning between your mouth and your boobs as his strokes got faster, more desperate

You felt his hand sneak up your body and finding your tits, grabbing at them softly, gently caressing each one with all the care and amazement in the word, until he was whispering, begging "fucking-come here" and pulled your mouth to his, leaving a wet, filthy kiss on your lips as he continued palming your front.

the sound from his work on his dick was obscene, but neither of you cared, especially when the words coming out of your mouth happened to be even obscene.

"You're close?" you asked, feeling his heavy breath fanning over your mouth

"yeah doll"

You kissed him again quickly before speaking

"come inside my mouth baby"

Again, Joel Miller might have been as incredible as you wanted... but he still remained only a man,

a man who had to fight with everything he had in himself not to bust his load right there

"Good fucking Christ-" he groaned, closing his eyes as he threw his head back "fuck me"

"I would if you'd let me" you joked, placing another kiss beneath his ear

He laughed softly, opening his eyes to find yours "you want me to come in your mouth sugar?"

"yes" you nodded without missing a beat "I need it" you cooed, stroking his beard as his breathing became more and more uneven, his cock on the verge of exploding

"I need you to fill me up baby, if not my pussy, my throat at least"

"fuck"

you always knew what to say to get him going

"fucking- damnit" he groaned, tugging hurriedly at his cock as he ordered you to "don't move- open your mouth" until he was kneeling beside you on the couch, grunting and moaning soft curses or that's it-good girl, looking down lovingly at you till his warm seed was filling your whole mouth.

It took him a moment to come back to life, to the real word, but before he knew it, you were kissing as he held you close to his chest.

"Feeling better?" you finally asked

"I don't even remember what I was mad about babydoll"

2K notes · View notes

valentine-cafe · 2 months ago

Text

˖⁺. "won't miss your favourite cock?" :

﹙ yandere mad doctor x fem assistant reader x yandere mad scientist ﹚.𖹭 ݁

﹙ kinktober : blackmail ﹚yandere ˖ boss ˖ mad doctor ˖ snake monster ˖ hybrid monster ˖ mad scientist characters . . . verse 209 jìngyí x fem reader x rishen !! 🍒 :

you are now regretting your nights of passion with your bosses. because when you try to resign after witnessing some horrific things done by their hands - well, let's just say that jìngyí very promptly reminds you of a few photos in his possession. along with how your body will always crave him and his husband.

﹙ cws ﹚: dub con ˖ blackmail ˖ thigh riding ˖ pussy smacking ˖ penetrative sex ˖ mouth play ˖ rough sex ˖ threesome ˖ use of slut/whore ˖ some degradation ˖ office sex ˖ multiple orgasms | wc : 1.9k

﹙ receipts ﹚: i have no idea what I was on when I wrote this but istg these two had me loopin

꒰ other treats : guidelines ˖ m.list ˖ characters ˖ our lore ꒱

“Now why couldn’t you be a good girl like this when you first stepped in?”

Your trembling knees split over a dark pants leg. Calloused palms graze the exposed, soft flesh of your thighs. With long fingers curling into your supple skin and pulling you closer. Pressing your folds covered by black panties down onto his leg.

A soft mewl drips from your lips before your hand raises to your flushed face. Shame filing you to your core as you are ground down on your boss’ thigh. If only to whimper when he circles your wrist with his grip and pins it to the arm of his ebony office chair.

“Now,” Jìngyí tuts. A small spank delivered to your ass before he’s pressing you down further. The pressure combined with the bouncing of his leg twists pleasure through your core and your head throws back slightly. “Why hide that pretty face from me, sweetheart? Let your boss see how well you ride his thigh.”

The slow smile on his perfect lips made you wish to slap it off of his gorgeous face. Sharp features that hang a dark expression at the idea of doing this to you.

Again.

Tears of frustration well in your eyes. If only to spill when two fingers reach down, pull your panties to the side and stroke at your little clit. “A-Ah - sir,” is all you can whine. Hips bucking into his a bit more at the swirls of pleasure.

“There you go.” Jìngyí’s dark croon makes your ears wish to bleed. All you can do is helplessly rock yourself down on his thigh. On his thumb that mercilessly rubs at your throbbing clit. Just to see the way that you spill all over the fabric of his pants.

“I thought you enjoyed my touch? You did so last time. Oh how you spilled.”

His hand yanks your thighs up a bit. So that he can deliver a small smack to your weeping cunt before he’s shoving you back down and grinding you rougher. A yelp, then long, whining moans pull from your lungs and your hands shakily take his shoulders.

The look on your face says it all. Of course, you have always been painfully attracted to him - and his husband - you even found yourself between them on a few nights of passion. But recent events drove you to try your luck at quitting. Fearful of those that you called superior. Those you thought were gentle, benevolent.

Which is what wounded you up here. Riding on your boss’ lap after he so promptly reminded you of what exactly he has on your name. . . the scatter of nude photographs you so foolishly consented to blare on his desk. Evidence of your naivety.

Perhaps you should simply enjoy it. You do. The wonderful feel of the fabric against your quivering slit. His hands all over you. Either gripping at your thighs and grinding you faster or slipping up to cup at your breasts. His rough thumbs running along your perked nipples after a small spit to slick the sensitive flesh.

“How you mewled for me, my dear. Barely wanted me to leave this tight little pussy huh?” The doctor’s deep voice rings against your ear. His hands clamp down on your thighs and slot you over further. Fingers part your folds. Creating the most intense combination of pressure and friction that has you whining out and limping into him. Your hips sloppily grinding as pleasure swells through your being.

“S-Sir - Jìngyí - please,”

“Oh no, darling. Please, cum for me, hmm?”

That drawl in his voice. The way he reaches down to flick at your clit before tracing back up to rub your hard nipples. The feel of his lips is devilish on your neck. His hands. Everything.

You cannot stop yourself from the moan that spills. The desperation in both your tone and actions as you clench up around nothing. The pleasure brings a memory of his thick cock splitting you in two. Milking you for all you’re worth. And -

It’s enough to have you cumming. Creaming on his pants leg as your face falls into his shoulder. Mouthing into his neck as you moan for him. While your hips needily rock into him to ride out your orgasm. Feel that pleasure just a bit longer.

“There you go. That’s my girl. There she is.”

Jìngyí lets out a husky chuckle. Pulling at your thighs again so that you are kneeling over his. An eager tongue swipes across his lower lip at the sight of your essence dripping. Without warning - two fingers swipe along your slit. Stroking a few times before bringing the slick to your mouth.

His eyes said it all. Open darling. And so you do. Greedily taking in your own cum so that you might feel his digits press at the back of your tongue. Hear that deep chuckle of approval.

The hitch in his breath tells you he’s about to speak — if not for the door that slides open. Your heart stops, yet when you try to pull away from his fingers he merely curls them on your tongue and claws at your thigh.

“So,” a smooth voice, practically dripping with velvet, eases into the room. A familiar song that has you pressing your hips down onto Jìngyí’s thigh. “Suppose you were right, gēgē.”

A trail of saliva is all that connects your mouth to the doctor’s fingertips before he spins you around to face his husband’s cunning smirk. Those large hands split your thighs as Jìngyí grinds his hard bulge up into your dripping pussy. Earning a moan for Rishen who only grins at the sight.

“My - is it even considered blackmail at this point?”

He murmurs. Maroon eyes cast a glance to the pictures across the desk - a flash of memory washes over his gaze before the lust is all focused on you again. His smooth hands press down on your inner thighs as he leans over you. Red lips pressing to yours slowly, sensually. You cannot help but whimper.

Realisation rears its head. And your cunt throbs at the idea of being used by the husbands again. It twitches at the mere sight of them exchanging a kiss over your shoulder.

“Such a desperate little thing. But as promised,” Jìngyí sighs with a small shake of his head. “She is all yours first, my love.”

It’s all you heard before blurs find your vision. You aren’t even sure when you wounded up in Rishen’s lap who took his husband’s place in the chair - who you now face as Jìngyí leans against the desk. You couldn’t even remember hearing the buckle of his pants -

All you can feel is his hardened tip running along your wet slit. The mere notion that he’s already hard and ready for you has you whimpering.

“Mister Herrera . . .”

Your croak is greeted by one of those delicate, ring-decorated hands again. Fingers that wrap around your jaw and flex to squish at your face. Pull your head to the side to meet his addicting kisses once more.

“Hmm, darling? Are you scared?” Rishen’s drawl has you squirming. Especially when his tip drags between your folds. Collecting your slick and smearing his own.

“Shouldn’t be. You remember your favourite cock, right?”

And oh, does your pussy remember. It clenches the second he begins easing in. Inch by inch. As though trying to cling to it - make sure he never leaves again. Thank him for filling you to the brim as he always does.

Needy moans spill. Your hips buck at the feel of his dick throbbing in your gummy walls. The way that his hands guide your hips so that he can grind up against all of those perfect spots that have you mewling.

“R-Rish - Rishen,”

His spank to your thigh immediately has you correcting yourself. A trembling - ‘sorry Mister Herrera’ - taking its place before all you are subjected to is hiccups and gasping moans.

He fucks up into you mercilessly. As always. His grip easing from your thighs, to your hips - wrapping around your waist so that his gold rings dig into your skin. The new leverage that he has gives him the perfect force to bounce you like a ragdoll back onto his cock.

“A-Ah - hngh -mngh!”

“Yeah - yeah look at that. You were going to leave this, darling? Leave this cock? Huh?”

You sob and shake your head as the wet plapping of skin fills the room. Rishen makes sure that his balls slap against your fluttering folds repeatedly. Make sure you take all of him so that you can remind yourself what you tried to leave.

It is only when you see a blink in your vision that you look up properly. The sight before you only makes you clench up and cum around Rishen with a whining gasp.

Jìngyí stands there, leaned against the desk with a holographic screen at his right fingertips. Two fingers over a digital camera lens - very obviously recording the scene. You and your sopping cunt taking your other boss’ cock as though you were made for it. Spilling all over his lap as though you hadn’t brought your resignation in this morning.

“Seems like someone is a bit too excited over being filmed,” murmurs the doctor. Resisting the urge to reach his free hand down and stroke over his own bulge.

Rishen’s chuckle mocks your ear. A sharp clap echoes through the room. With the stinging flesh of your ass the evidence of his harsh hand. “Seems so. Ever the needy slut.” His hips piston with more force. If that was even possible. Pounding up into you until you’re throwing your head back and sobbing out apologies.

“P-Please - please - Rihh - Jìng - hngh.”

“Please what, my dear? Please fuck me faster? Please fill me up?”

“Please keep me here? Please keep recording?”

Their taunts bring tears to your eyes and squeeze the air out of your lungs. If not that — then the way that Rishen abruptly stood. Shoving you to the desk so that your legs dangle and rutting against your ass until you’re drooling all over the wood. Eyes rolled back. Cum squirting down your quivering thighs.

“Good little whore. Why leave when your pussy so desperately wants to stay?”

Rishen removes himself with only slap to your sopping cunt. Switching places with Jìngyí who wastes no time in unbuckling his pants and easing a rough hand over your head. So that your face is shoves into the desk. Moans melting into the wood as he presses into your dripping hole.

His groan is heavy. So are his thrusts. Heavier than his husband’s. More demanding - they shook the table even more somehow. All while you can do nothing but take it. Take - and take - and take your favourite cocks until you’re spilling all over the floor.

Dizzy. Pleasure filled. Begging for more. What a fool you were to think you could live without this.

“That’s it. Such a loyal whore.”

“Better get used to it, sweetheart. If you won’t be our secretary - how does our pretty little cumdump sound?

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fairysongs · 5 months ago

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౨ৎ coming home too late﹕spencer reid .ᐟ

summary: based entirely on the song, coming home by beabadoobee. pure fluff.

pairing: spencer reid x fem!reader

includes: soooo much fluff, spencer’s pov, spencer is in love with reader, reader is just as in love with him, very small mention of depression, reader uses she/her pronouns, reader loves to clean, established relationship, derek morgan is spencer and reader's #1 fan, did i mention spencer is in love?

word count: 1.7k

a/n: eeeek my second fic!! i got so happy writing this. maybe the most sickening sweet thing i ever did do. i love beabadoobee's music so much i kinda wanna write a million different things based on her songs. Anyways..!!! as always likes/reblogs/feedback appreciated :3

spencer reid had never felt more relieved to be sitting inside this jet than he was right now.

sure, he’s happy every single time his team is able to wrap up a case. he’s happy every single time they catch the bad guy. he’s happy every single time justice is brought to victims and their families. he’s happy every single time he gets to come home and see you. he’s happy every single time he notices the way your eyes light up when you see him walk through the door. he’s happy every single time you throw your arms around his neck and he gets to pick you up, inhaling your sweet scent as if he’d never be able to embrace you again.

but this time it was a little different. it was currently 6:54pm in california where the latest case was. meaning it was 9:54pm back home. it would take approximately five hours to fly home and another thirty minutes to drive to his apartment. meaning he wouldn’t step through his door until way after three in the morning and he knew you’d be sound asleep by then. and it was saturday, a day that never held much weight to him until he started living with you.

he found out that you grew up with a rather strict routine in your home. your parents deemed every saturday ‘cleaning day’. every saturday you did your weekly chores and that habit stuck with you as you moved on to live with college roommates, on your own and eventually with spencer.

he remembers when he first asked you to move in with him. you’d been dating for about a year and a half at that point. he brought it up in a rather nonchalant way and he was so thankful you were not a profiler and couldn’t tell how hard his heart was beating inside his chest as he started to ask.

“you know… you sleepover here a lot. i mean, you have your own drawer in my dresser, your own space in my closet…” he started one morning, sipping from his mug of sugary sweet coffee. “your skincare stuff in my bathroom, your special shampoos in my shower… your little treats stocked in my fridge…” his lips started twitching, trying to fight the stupid large smile that wanted to show on his face.

you hummed in response, your fingers tapping against your own mug that was full of tea. you hated coffee. when he learned that he bought a box of your favorite tea and kept it stocked in his kitchen. “are you… complaining?” you asked, voice sort of quiet with uncertainty.

he shook his head immediately, realizing he wasn’t being as straightforward as he assumed. “no!” his voice squeaked slightly, causing you to raise your eyebrows. “no… no, i was just… i mean, you spend so much time here and i really love it. i love you being here with me and i… if you wanted to move in i would… i mean, i want you to move in. if you want to. please.”

thankfully your heart was just as pretty as you were and you didn’t let him nervously ramble for too long. instead you walked over to him, wrapping your arms around his neck. you stood on your tiptoes and pressed a soft kiss to his cheek. “relax. i’d love to, spencer. but i have to warn you, i’m quite a lot to deal with twenty-four seven…” he would just stare back at you, with nothing but love and admiration pouring from brown hues. he always thought you were so silly when you’d say things like that and he’d spend the rest of the morning telling you that while peppering sweet kisses to every inch of your skin.

he did learn very quickly just how serious you were about your routine. you woke up at six in the morning every saturday. you’d start in the bathroom, then make your way to the kitchen, then collect the dirty laundry from the week, then focus on organizing every little desk and shelf he had in his home. at first you wouldn’t let him help you, explaining that you didn’t want him to feel obligated in helping you with your own crazy little habit. he’d shake his head and just ask you what kind of laundry detergent you liked as he piled clothes into a basket.

“if you keep up with it weekly, then it won’t get out of hand and too big to fix.” you mumbled one time while scrubbing the dishes. “sometimes when the scaries got really bad, i used to forget to keep up with my cleaning. all the mess just made things more unbearable. keeping on top of it makes me feel more in control. even if the ‘cleaning’ one week is just refilling the toilet paper and doing one single load of laundry.”

he nodded his head in response, emptying the trash beneath the sink. spencer was nothing but soft with you, but even more so whenever you mentioned your struggles with depression or ‘the scaries’ as you called it. the two of you quickly fell into a habit every single saturday. you split the work load. you’d do the dishes, he’d carry the trash out, you’d fold the laundry, he’d vacuum the rug. he didn’t have to say it, you’d already know, but he enjoyed the structure of routine just as much as you did. the rest of your saturdays were spent on the sofa, your head in his lap while you forced him to watch your favorite childhood show. takeout food spread across the coffee table in front of you. there was so much comfort the two of you found in the domesticity of it all.

so, yes, he was a little bit upset he missed this saturday and was so ready to get home and pull you into his arms and never let go. he hadn’t noticed him spacing out, eyes focused on the same page of a book he was reading for five minutes, until he heard derek morgan’s voice.

“hey, loverboy!” spencer’s head snapped up, brows furrowing at the man giving him a cheeky smile. “you’ve been staring at that page for an eternity. what’s on your mind, huh?” he asked, although he already knew the answer.

you met the whole team ages ago and every one of them adored you but derek especially admired the way you loved spencer. he’d never say it out loud, unless it was in a teasing way to get spencer to blush, but he genuinely believed you were an angel sent to the boy genius. derek noticed how blissful you made him, how gentle you were and how safe he felt with you. how could his heart not swell in appreciation for the love you gave to his brother?

“i missed cleaning day…” spencer spoke, brows pulling together slightly. there was a soft sigh that fell from his lips as he pulled his phone from his pocket. your last text saying you were gonna stay up and wait for him even though you both knew that you’d fall asleep the moment you got comfortable.

“okay… and is that a bad thing?” derek responded, leaning back into his seat with a slightly confused expression.

“well, yeah. she likes cleaning every saturday and we normally split the work between us. that way we have more time to spend together.” spencer huffed and tucked his phone away again. he closed the book he was reading. “it’s more than just the cleaning, derek. i hate being away from her, you know? we never know when we’re gonna get called away on a case like this and i like spending as much time as i can with her. and i hate coming home late. it makes me feel like i’ve missed so much.”

derek breathed out a laugh but nodded, understanding all too well what he meant. emily prentiss came around the corner, one hand holding a cup of coffee and the other resting gently on spencer’s shoulder. “spencer reid, you have become the most smitten, lovestruck man since you met that girl. and it’s the most adorable thing in the world.” everyone on the jet chuckled softly at that, even aaron hotchner, while he blushed and adverted his eye contact towards the shaded window. he knew they weren’t laughing at him, more so showing an expression of how happy they were that he was happy.

he stepped into the dimly lit living room of his apartment at exactly 3:26am. the tv glowed over your sleeping body on the sofa, arms wrapped tightly around a stuffed red panda he gifted you a few birthdays ago. the netflix screen asking ‘are you still watching avatar: the last airbender?’ shined in his face as he leaned in to shut the machine off. he walked over to your sleepy state, a tiny smile growing on his lips as he leaned in to brush some of your hair from your face. he tucked one arm beneath your knees and held the other one to your arm as he carried you to the bedroom.

you stirred, humming softly as he quietly shushed you. “shh, hi baby. i’m home now. go back to bed, yeah?”

“how was the flight?” you asked in a soft whisper, ignoring his requests. he chuckled, shaking his head and he set you gently on the cushion of his mattress.

“it was fine. too long. i’m sorry i’m home late.” he was just as quiet as you, pulling the duvet over your body and tucking it at your shoulders. he picked up the stuffed animal that had fallen beside the bed and tucked it next to you as well.

“it’s okay. we always have tomorrow.” with your eyes still closed, you smiled as he kissed your forehead.

“yes, my love. we do, don’t we? i’m gonna get changed okay? go back to bed.”

“i’ll wait for you.”

when he was changed out of his work clothes and into his pajamas, he turned back and found you soundly asleep again. he let out a quiet laugh, got into bed and pulled you right to his chest. he played with your hair until he fell asleep too, no longer upset about the day he missed with you because you were right.

he always had tomorrow.

#spencer reid x reader #spencer reid x fem!reader #spencer reid fanfiction #spencer reid #౨ৎ ﹕mazzy’s fics ( s.r x reader. ) .ᐟ #<3 #Gonna be so real i rushed to post this before work and didnt rly proofread #if theres any mistakes or mishaps i will fix when i get back home

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midnightarcheress · 9 months ago

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Simon has a new assignment.

pairing: bodyguard!ghost x actress!reader 1 | gold rush masterlist.

after years exhausting his body in the military and too many losses to count, Simon decided to retire. goodbye extensive deployments, food and sleep deprivation, constant adrenaline pump in his veins, hours spent washing the blood off of his fingernails. except he didn’t truly retire. life as a civilian again was too strange, too boring. he thrives in following orders and being the best at it. he missed having a purpose, even if it’s far from saving the world.

so, because of that, he agreed on joining a private military company as a contractor. never takes the dirty, mercenary-like jobs though – despite being rusted, his moral compass is still there, so he usually sticks with the security, training, bodyguarding type of work. easy enough to not take a toll on his body, and to not strain his conscience with the worry of ending innocent lives to cover up some bastard’s filth, but demanding enough to keep his mind out of his own life for a while.

the guy on the other side of the line doesn’t tell him much about the new task. bodyguard for an actress, indefinite time, details via e-mail. a few minutes later, the computer screen lights up with the case information and his eyes skim through the text; famous actress, has been receiving threatening letters and who ultimately has a stalker. a seemingly uncapturable one, as the police have not been able to trace them for months. incompetent wankers. in his prime he would locate terrorists with ease; nothing he couldn’t do right now, but his contract was strict – keep her safe and keep to yourself.

he doesn’t recognize the name, but the small picture attached to the message is slightly familiar, maybe from one of the times he spent hours flicking through the channels on the telly while battling a crippling insomnia. his brows knit together when he peers at the set of rules that accompanies the e-mail. no talking, no touching unless extremely necessary, must keep distance at all times.

in the months he’s been working in the company, he never had a job with an actual celebrity – mostly politicians and businesspeople, extremely straightforward and simple to execute, usually for a short period of time. he’s convinced that it will be the longest mission of his life, probably dealing with an entitled rich woman who’s used to having everybody begging at her feet.

dread fills his mind as he watches the trees quickly passing by his window on the car. the drive to the meeting is short enough to contain the rate of the antipathy brewing on his chest, but long enough to make him question accepting the assignment.

he pulls up on the driveway and walks towards a tall, modern building, filled with frantic people walking from side to side. glancing at his phone, he re-reads the details of the reunion; second door on the 23th floor, her manager will be expecting you. his fingers tap on the side of his thigh as the lift raises to the office level, eyes glaring at the mirror in the back of the platform. the image on the glass differs from the one on his past – military buzzcut and skull-printed balaclava replaced by messy blond locks and a neck gaiter, still covering a bit of his face even after all this time. old habits die hard.

the doors pry open right after the number appears on the screen and he walks down the hallway to the office, stopping on his tracks as he notices a feminine voice coming from inside the room. “i’m scared just as much as you, but is this really necessary?” she’s in there too? wasn’t the meeting only with the guy?

“yes, princess, it is necessary. do you want to make the front-page news as a corpse?” another voice can be heard responding, this time, male. must be the manager. “in case you've forgotten, i’m also your friend, and i’m merely concerned about your safety. we cannot let that stunt from last week happen again.” stunt. he recalls part of the information on the file, depicting how she was almost assaulted by a weirdo that followed her on the street; however, the creepy prick was cleared from being the stalker and left the station on bail. great justice system.

“we’ve already increased the security on your house, he was just hired to keep you safe on the outside.” he decides to stop eavesdropping and knocks sharply on the door. “must be him.” the man says, and he listens as footsteps approach the entryway.

“well, hello there. please, come in,” he steps aside, allowing Simon to enter the room. the office is fairly average, leather couch on one corner, portraits on the wall of what he assumes are the man’s clients, but all of the attention goes to the large windows showing a perfect view of the city. “so, i’m Daniel, the great manager as you may know," he smugly speaks, "and of course you already know her.” he gestures to the woman on the armchair.

the woman from the picture. the woman from the late night movie he was absentmindedly watching on a late night. you. you look the same as he'd seen before, but somehow entirely different. the warm sunlight coming through the glass shines on your skin when you stand on your feet, golden flecks twinkling in your irises as you offer him your name and extend a hand to greet him, sweetly mouthing “and you are?”

he shakes your hand with a firm grasp, stirring away the sudden void in his brain and swallowing the lump on his throat that hindered his words. “Ghost.” easy detachment. his gruff voice reverberates in the space as he repeats the orders in his head, the sense of doubt starting to cloud his judgement. keep to yourself. maybe the job won’t be as bad as he thought.

been a bit obsessed with this idea so i decided to write it and see how it goes.

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lotus-acid-trip · 1 month ago

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hi! I hope you don’t mind me asking but may I request a Telemachus x fem reader where when ody returns and is being made fun of by the suitors while still in this begger disguise yn starts fighting off the suitors and yelling at them for being rude and maybe later joins ody while he is hunting them down and Telemachus has a love sick look while watching yn just like ody did for Penelope back when they were younger before he married her and after seeing how cool and awesome of a warrior yn is later ody turns to his son and says “I aprove of this one 😏” and poor Telemachus is just like 😳 all flustered and adorable what can I say Telemachus is a sweetie 🥰

feel free to ignore if you want to hope you have a good rest of your day thank you ☺️

“I approve of this one.”

Telemachus x Reader

[Epic The Musical]

oneshot

fluff

This is my first proper romantic reader insert fic, so I hope you enjoy!

Odysseus sat at the entrance of the courtyard under the shade of a large olive tree as he silently observed the numerous suitors scattered across the courtyard in idle chatter. Is this really what had become of his home while he was gone? It was baffling just how ungrateful and disrespectful all these guests were. He worried for the state of his palace after being infested with all these unwelcome guests for so many years. It must have been so difficult on Penelope and Telemachus to deal with all of them, having to feed and house them along with dealing with their pitiful attempts at courting his wife. It was a wonder why the suitors still haven’t been driven out by Telemachus yet.

His hand fiddled with the small wooden bowl in his hands. Odysseus was disguised as an old beggar, but as much as he wanted to reveal himself right then and there he needed to be patient and play it smart. He didn’t have anything other than an old knife hidden in his clothes to defend himself with and he was probably lacking a lot of proper nutrients and sustenance after being out at sea for so long with food of limited quality and quantity. If he were to fight all these suitors right now, he was sure to fail. Not only do they have an advantage in numbers, it was obvious they were well fed, and all the used training equipment seen around the palace was all he needed to know the suitors could fight. If Odysseus wanted to win, he needed to stick to the plan, which meant playing his part as an old beggar.

A suitor passed by him devouring a chicken leg and he held out his bowl to him. It would be a good opportunity to not only learn more about the state of his palace and family, but to also know just what his family has been up to in the past years. “Would you care to spare a bit of food for this old man?” The suitor tilted his head to look down at Odysseus for a moment before raising a brow. “And what exactly is this homeless old man doing in a palace like this? Surely your life hasn’t fallen so far into poverty that you’d go scrounging for scraps in the homes of royalty.” He leaned back against the tree, hands crossing over his legs. “Well, that wasn’t exactly my plan. I was just walking by but with the heat of the sun and with a body as frail and weak as mine, I just had to take a break under the shade of this mighty tree. I was always curious of what happened in the lives of royalty anyway.” He said as he looked up at the leaves and branches. He remembers planting it so many years ago to see how to take care of an olive tree as preparation for making his and Penelope’s marital bed. It's grown so much since then, and he wonders just how much Telemachus has as well. “Well, since you have so much spare time to just wander around doing nothing, why don’t you bring us all a meal or two, all the way from inside the palace’s pantry. You want some food? Work for it, old man.”

Odysseus raised a hand waving off the offer. “Ah, but there might be one small problem. I am just an old beggar, remember? I don’t know anything of the layout of the palace. I’m sorry, but I must decline. Can’t you just ask a servant to help you instead?” The suitor seemed to get irritated at his reply. “Ha! Yeah right, those servants can barely do anything right. They never bring the food on time and always seem to be short on stock. Not even their pathetic prince seems to know what he’s doing.” He stared at the suitor judgmentally. “ ‘Pathetic prince’ you say? Bold words for someone who’s staying in his palace.” The suitor looked at him as if he had just said something audacious instead of common sense. “Listen old man, we’re the guests here, not them. Do you not understand basic hospitality?” Odysseus narrowed his eyes at the suitor. He knew his palace, his servants and the workforce in it. They aren’t lazy or incompetent, if they were they wouldn’t be serving his family. Not to mention, if there wasn’t enough livestock there were plenty of skilled hunters and hunting dogs to accompany them. His memories of old hunts with Argos and others were more than enough proof of that.

“Of course I do. Perhaps instead of trying to defend your impudence against the prince, you could put away your prideful hurbis for a moment and just lend me even an inch of the food you already have on you. For someone relying on the shared hospitality of someone else for their own comfort, you sure don’t seem to be able to do the same.” The suitor’s bored annoyance quickly morphed into thinly veiled anger. “Listen you old derelict, need I remind you that this is not your courtyard you are resting in? This is not your abode and I do not tolerate your insults. For someone who seems to preach so strongly for returning hospitality, you don’t seem too keen on basic respect.” Odysseus hid his amusement at the irony with indifference. “Although that may be true, last I checked this isn’t your home either.” That statement alone seemed to be enough to push him over the edge into full blown rage. Odysseus jumped away from the suitor’s flying fist as it hit the trunk of the tree where his head used to be. “You know, for someone so insistent on how they have difficulty doing physical activities you’re awfully quick to move.” The suitor began to walk towards him, his larger form towering over him and casting a shadow that engulfed Odysseus’s entire form. “Listen here old man. If you think you can just run off after that impudence, your mind must be as deteriorated as your age.” Odysseus continued to back up, hand immediately searching for the knife he hid. A chill crept up his spine when his back hit something. Turning around, it was another suitor, the others beginning to close in on him. Fuck, he messed up. The suitor he first talked to grabbed the front of his shirt and lifted him up to his face so Odysseus could face him. “Now, I think it's time that you finally learned a long needed lesson on hospitality and what happens when you don’t respect your host-“

“Hey! What the hell is all this racket?” Odysseus never turned his head away from the suitor, but averted his gaze towards the newcomer. A woman emerged from inside the palace and stared at the scene before her in a moment of silence before her once confused gaze immediately morphed into an infuriated wrath that could rival the suitor’s own rage. “Antinous, what do you think you’re doing! Gods above and below, has no one ever taught you to respect your elders?” She marched on towards the both of them, unshaken by any visible fear at the obvious violent intent of the suitors. She gripped the suitor’s, now known as Antinous, wrist and forcefully yanked it away from him, letting Odysseus fall to the ground. Antinous opened his mouth, ready to yell at her but the woman cut him off as she glared coldly at him. “The queen is watching us.” She said as she stared into the suitors eyes as if daring him to try anything. The mention of Penelope is all he needed to whip his head towards the balcony he knows she always loved to use to watch the courtyard. And there she was, elegant and poised, watching with a composed face as she always does. He could see how she’s changed from when he last saw her, the small streaks of white in her hair that weren’t there before, the wrinkles and tired eyes. But he didn’t care, for it was his Penelope, and Odysseus felt like he was falling in love all over again.

Penelope observed them silently, looking at each person one by one before her eyes eventually met his. For a moment, it felt like time froze and they did nothing but stare at each other. It was like the world itself was holding its breath. It was the smallest difference in her eyes that made his chest swell with warmth. Those indifferent calculated eyes that always seemed to be studying every little detail softened for a moment, her composed face faltering for a split millisecond to look at him with the same eyes that looked at him with so much affection and appreciation when he told her how he’d tackle the challenge she gave him. The tension in the air was so thick, yet only he could feel it… and maybe she did as well. Logically, Odysseus knew that they had only been looking at each other for a mere few seconds, but it felt like he was staring for an eternity at something so close yet so far. And Penelope did nothing else but silently stare back. She shifted her position, pulling away from the scene and returning back inside. Odysseus let out a breath he didn’t even realize he was holding. It felt like time suddenly began moving once more when it had always been flowing, falling through his fingers like flowing water with no hope of holding on to it.

“Antinous, if you do not explain to me what exactly you were doing I can and will tell Penelope.” The woman said as she walked in front Odysseus, who’s gaze still lingered on the balcony for another moment before returning to look at the suitors and the new woman. Antinous sneered. “And why should I? Your family may be up there in terms of status, but you’re nowhere near close to me.” He sneered. “And? Do you think I care? You already showed just how petty you get because someone bruised your fragile ego. I still haven’t forgiven you for the fight with Telemachus.” The woman took a step forward towards the suitor, but he didn’t move. “And? The boy started it.” Another step forward and another rise in tension. “Who exactly called his mother a tramp? That’s right, you.” Another step forward until she was right in front of him. At this point even more suitors began to crowd around them to see what was happening, and Odysseus dreaded a physical fight would break out.

“Well then, since you seem so keen on berating me for teaching the little wolf a lesson, why don’t I give you an opportunity to even out the scales?” Antinous’s fist met the woman’s face, sending her stumbling back. She regained her balance before gently touching her face, a bruise forming on her right cheek. Whispers and murmurs emanated from the crows as it grew larger, more suitors joining the audience and a few servants discreetly watching from the sidelines. She looked at her own blood smeared against her fingers before turning her attention towards Antinous. “I gladly accept.” She ran forward, fist aimed at Antinous’s face. The suitor held his forearm up to block it, only for her to twist her foot, turning around to kick him from behind without her fist ever making contact with him. Antinous was pushed forward a step from the force of the kick, but quickly recovered, turning around to grab her by the leg she used to kick him. The crowd around them began cheering as he pulled her forward into another punch, which was blocked by her own forearms, now also bruised. He grabbed her by the wrist and pulled her into a headbutt, unable to dodge or move away because of their position.

The sound of a wooden bowl hitting Antinous’s head caused all sound to cease, the silence deafening as everyone’s heads turned to look at the source of the bowl. Antinous glared at Odysseus, who was hiding his grip on his knife in his oversized clothes. Antinous let go of the woman who fell on the floor, wincing at her bruises. Odysseus’s grip on his knife tightened as he took a step forward towards him. He opened his mouth to say something before he was cut off by a young voice. “Stop! What’s going on he- [NAME]!” A young boy shoved his way through the crowd and into the clearing that formed around the olive tree, rushing towards the side of the young woman. He kneeled beside her as he assessed her wounds. Antinous crossed his arms in annoyance as the young boy began to ceaselessly fuss over her. Odysseus stared at the boy, he could recognize those eyes from anywhere. “[name], are you okay? What happened?”

“Tele, I’m fine. It's just a few bruises, I’m not an old frail man.” She said as she sharply turned to look at Antinous. “Unlike the person a certain someone was harassing.” Odysseus stared at the young man- no, his son. No wonder he looked so familiar. He had his mother’s eyes and the same fair skin as her, but the face and hair of his own. His head was reeling, it had been so long since he’d seen his young boy. He was all grown up now, grown through all those special moments in his life Odysseus would never be able to experience. Gods, he missed his first hunt, his first training session, he missed being able to teach his son all the things he promised he’d pass on from his mentorship under Athena. But now Telemachus was right there, but he still couldn’t teach him all the things he wasn’t able to.

Antinous looked at all three of them one by one, from Odysseus to Telemachus in increasing disgust. “I’ve had enough of this, the way both of you act around each other is nauseating.” He said as he left the courtyard and into the building. Telemachus helped [name] up and she turned to look at Odysseus. “I am so sorry for all this. My intent was only to help you get that pig off your back,” She said as she looked at the direction Antinous left in with so much disgust it almost gave Odysseus whiplash from her original apologetic tone. “but it seems my impulsiveness got the better of me. Usually I try not to cause fights but I’m not exactly the best at not doing that.” She said shamefully. “Oh please, it's quite alright. I understand what it’s like. Sometimes, when you’re in the heat of the moment, your emotions cloud your judgement and you’re so focused on doing what you think’s right that… you don’t realize the consequences that might follow.” He said with a wistful smile. “I really have no idea what happened, but I apologize either way. Please, have this for your troubles.” Telemachus said as he handed him money, before cutting through the crowd to probably lead [name] to get healed. Odysseus stared at the coins placed in his hand, it was enough to buy him a whole house.

……………………………………………………

The metallic stench of blood filled your nose as you walked across the wet floor, the red liquid staining your sandals. The faint light of the torches could barely illuminate the dark room, the moon’s light nowhere to be seen through the windows. What little the light did show was nothing but puddles of blood and the faint outline of bodies. Right there, at the end of the room were twelve axes that were originally supposed to be used for the challenge queen Penelope made for her suitors. It didn’t take long for you to hear about what went wrong, and it took even shorter for you to make your way here. You grabbed one of the axes, testing its weight as you gave it a few experimental swings. The silence of the challenge room was so quiet you could hear your own wet footsteps echo as you tested the axe. You internally facepalmed as you looked down at your weapon, realizing just how little you thought this through. You had no plan in mind, you just heard that Telemachus was also fighting and just had to join. The idea of fighting alongside him was exhilarating, and meeting his father, king Odysseus and master tactician that won the war? You didn’t really think too hard on your decision to join. As much as you hated to admit it, Telemachus and your father were right. You really needed to think things through more.

Your body tensed when you heard the sound of heavy footsteps approaching the room, your grip on your axe tightening. Well, if you were good at one thing, it was brazenly charging into battle. You readied your stance, prepared for a fight. Since you weren’t able to kill Antinous, you’ll have to settle for killing the suitor first. The moment the bright light of a torch rounded the corner of the entryway, you charged forward, swinging your axe towards their head. Being on the other side of the room, they had plenty of time to jump out of your way. Now, you were at the entrance and they were trapped inside the room. Their torch illuminated their face and you took a moment to look at them. Eurymachus, the cowardly one. “Hey, [name], let us talk about this! I never once went out of my way to hurt you nor Telemachus, I always payed my due respects to her majesty. It was Antinous that-“

“Lead you and your fellow scum in the plan to execute my betrothed in secret.” You said with a sneer, throwing the axe at his head. It flew past the torch, the push of wind blowing it out as the man in front of you fell to the floor. He met the floor with a loud thump, his remains now nothing but another body in the landscape of corpses in the room. You moved to pull the axe out of his head with more aggression than needed before leaving. His words irritated you to no end, the man was nothing but an idle fool who made the choice of inaction. Never once did he try to stop his fellow suitors from tormenting Telemachus, never once has he tried to lessen all the resources they waste, never once did he leave when Telemachus ordered them. None of them did.

You let out a sigh as you walked through the hallways. Where exactly was Telemachus? And where was Odysseus? They most likely passed through this area already, if the bodies everywhere said anything. The father son duo was probably closer to the courtyards of the palace outside where the suitors must have fled towards. Either that or the pack of meatheads ran towards their weapon supply. You guessed it was the latter and promptly made your way through the familiar halls, passing by familiar faces on the floor that will never be missed. Surprisingly enough you couldn’t find any signs of struggle during battle. Nothing but the light of torches fallen on the floor could light up the scene, the moon and stars never daring to gaze upon the massacre. Bodies upon bodies were piled up in a gruesome display of vengeance with a vile stench that made your nose wrinkle in disgust, and yet each and every one of them only had an arrow to the head or chest to blame for their demise. No bruising nor cuts of a blade, only a lone arrow on each suitor. It was only after a long time of walking did the bodies slowly lessen in numbers, but still remained ever present. A silent reminder of the ruthless monster that lurked in these dark halls.

Your head turned towards the sound of metal blade against metal blade just to your right. Carefully peeking over the edge, your eyes widened at the sight of Telemachus fighting a suitor on his own. The light of a fallen torch reflected the glint of a knife in the darkness. Your grip on your axe tightened and you swung at the knife wielder without hesitation. The suitor’s screams were drowned by his own blood pouring out of his mouth, your axe lodged into his throat. Looking behind you, a surprised suitor was stabbed from behind, his blood coating the rest of the blade that pierced through him. The sword was pulled out and the suitor fell to the floor, revealing Telemachus behind him. “[name]? What are you doing here?” He asked as he looked around as if worried anyone might be eavesdropping. “Did you really think word of your suitor hunt wouldn’t get out? Tele, the entire palace could hear the screams of terror.” You replied as you rested your axe on your shoulder. “Of course I didn’t think we’d be able to hide a mass genocide! What I’m asking is why you came here after learning about a giant fight-“ He paused mid sentence, and you didn’t need to see his face to know he was staring at you with the most unimpressed expression you’ll ever see. You barely tried to hide your amused snickering as he rolled his eyes at you. “You know what? I retract my statement. The fight was all the reason you needed to come here, wasn’t it.” It was less of a question and more of a statement.

“Actually, not really. At least, it wasn’t the only reason.” You said you stared directly into his eyes that reflected the ever dancing light of the torch. The flame flickered, going from bright to dark and back within seconds. You could barely see Telemachus, but you poured every bit of attention you had into listening to Telemachus go from unamused to curious. “Really? Then what was it?” He asked as you smiled. “I’m looking right at it.” Telemachus looked around once more, but this time to find what you were staring directly at rather than look for hidden dangers. “Wha? But the only thing you’re looking at is… Oh.” You didn’t even try to hide your amusement this time, bursting out into a fit of howling laughter at his flushed face. “Really? Do you have to tease me even in the middle of battle?” You shoved your face right in front of his, mere inches away. “Yeah, cause you haven’t told me to stop yet.”

“Euryalus, he locked the rest of our weapons in one of the rooms! These are the only ones we have, none of us could open it up-“ Telemachus looked towards the group of new suitors, who immediately drew their weapons at the sight of the both of you. “Shit.” You cursed under your breath, you were kinda having a moment here. With much annoyance your stance changed from relaxed and playful with your axe on your shoulder, to a defensive battle stance with your weapon at the ready. Even with Telemachus, you could only handle so many suitors. “Hey Tele, remember what I told you about hunting wild hogs?” You asked as he looked at you incredulously. “Aim for the area around the shoulder or the head? [name], what does this have to do with anything-“ You cut him off with a mischievous grin barely lit by the torch. “Exactly. I suggest you aim for the chest since you’re too short for their heads.” You could practically see the gears turning in his head before he opened his mouth in a baffled offense.

You charged forwards to the four suitors, stepping on the torch and putting it out as you ran. You moved to the side of the group and swung your axe at the outermost member. He blocked your axe, and at the same time you heard the clash of metal from the other side of the group. You could barely see anything, but you recognized the silhouette of Telemachus fighting off the other two suitors. Another suitor came up from behind the one in front of you to aim his sword at your side. You pushed the sword blocking your axe downwards to block the other suitor’s sword, before pushing both of them off. Spinning around, you hit the head of the first suitor you attacked with your axe, killing them. The sight of another sword in the corner of your eye made your breath hitch, it was far too close for you to move away and turn around to block. You still tried to pull up your axe to block it, and a spray of blood passed by your view. By the time you were fully turned around to face your attacker, they were clutching their hand in pain. Or more like their lack of one. In front of you stood Telemachus, sword in hand as he charged forward, stabbing the suitor in their chest while they were writhing in pain. “[name], what did I say about minding your surroundings!” Telemachus said concerned as the suitor died and joined the rest of them on the floor. “Hey, it turned out okay in the end. He’s dead and I’m alive, I’ll be fine-“

A large thud behind you made you jump, and you slowly turned around with your axe held up. “You know, my son is right. If neither of us were here, you’d be another body on the floor.” You blinked and stared at the man before you. “Father!” Telemachus gasped from behind you. Oh. OH. “Odysseus?” You asked bewildered. He was a lot shorter than you expected. Now you know why Telemachus was shorter than all the men his age and you while his mother still towered over everyone in the room. He nodded with a gentle smile. “And you’re the [name] my son has so fondly told me about.” He said as he drew back his bow. You looked back at Telemachus and you both made eye contact, before you looked at Odysseus. “Wait, what? He talks about me? Wait, what did he say? Tele, you better not have told your father about the sand incident.” You heard him stifle a small chuckle, and you whipped around to gasp at him with all the exasperation you could manage. “You did not!”

“I did.” He said unapologetically. You stared at him in betrayal, jaw dropped before turning back to Odysseus. “Hey, your majesty, did you know that before I got with your son he trained Argos to run at me so he could pretend like he accidentally let him loose to make an opportunity to talk with mMMFFF!” Telemachus slapped his hand onto your mouth as you struggled against his arm. “I did not do that, she’s lying.” He said indignantly as Odysseus stared at the two of you amused. You shoved at Telemachus’s wrist while you both physically struggled against each other. You saw him eyeing your hand on his wrist and you looked at him sternly. “Don’t you even dare- OW!” The madlad bit your hand and you pulled away from him, your bodies detaching from one another. “You menace.” You said as he shoved his face into yours, mere inches away like you were mere moments ago. For a moment, he just stared at you and you stared back at him. It was like all the emotional intensity that was interrupted before was returning full force, a shameless rush of affection like a raging river. You’ve always been told by Penelope that there were moments between her and Odysseus that felt like time stopped, when they looked into their eyes and saw love for eternity in each other. But right now, you felt nothing close to that. It was like time was rushing past you with no end, quick and intense. Every small detail blurred together into Telemachus, and in his eyes you saw the life you have right now.

“Telemachus, I know little to nothing about you, and even less about [name], but I see the same love I have for your mother in you, and I see the same love Penelope has for me in [name].” You both stared at him, hands that had intertwined subconsciously squeezing tightly. Telemachus looked over to you, and once again you saw not just your life in his eyes, but yours and his. “I approve of this one.” Your lover blinked in sync with you. “Besides, weren’t you the one who said how much you loved it when she stood up for you before you got the courage to fight Antinous?” Telemachus stared at his father and after a beat of silence, screeched with embarrassment. “FATHER, DON’T-“ You looked at Odysseus with a devious grin, and began to explain every single Argos incident while Telemachus hid his face in your neck.

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bloodibambiidoll · 3 months ago

Text

𖤐 A Dreaded Summer Day 𖤐

𓉸ྀི Kinktober Day 2 Eddie Munson ⟢ Voyeurism/Breeding 𓉸ྀི

Warnings: Outside sex, unprotected sex, switch!Eddie, switch!reader, breeding kink, alternative!fem!reader, lil bit of degradation and spanking, 69ing, Jacob’s ladder piercing, no physical descriptions of reader besides her outfit, Eddie & reader being sooo in luv. The kink WAS spanking originally but subby!Eddie took the wheel and I changed it around 18+MDNI

You and Eddie hardly ever go on “conventional” dates and tonight is no exception. The warm September days were fading into autumn nights and your boyfriend figured what better time for a midnight cemetery picnic? He filled your vintage picnic basket you found at the thrift store with all your favorite treats and then stopped on the way for a pizza for the two of you to share. He spread out a thick blanket under a big willow tree and even made you a brand new mix tape and brought his boombox for mood music. The leaves were starting to change, even a few starting to fall on the grass that was getting more and more brown by the day. The breeze that whooshed through the air smelled like the promise of rain in the next few days and the full moon was shining perfectly in the cloudless sky above you. It also doesn’t hurt that you have your gorgeous boyfriend with you.

Eddie looks so good tonight. It’s one of those rare occasions where he’s traded his usual black jeans for a pair of distressed blue ones. His curly mane was a bit messier than usual due to the long, late evening nap the two of you took together so he threw it in a low bun. On top he has on an Alice and chains zip up he got at a concert the two of you went to last year and you know for a fact the only thing he has underneath it is one of those tight black tanks that drive you crazy. He of course has his chains on his pants, chunky rings, and the newest addition to his daily accessories being the chain with your first initial hanging from it right along with his guitar pick necklace. All in typical Eddie fashion. The nose ring he got a few days ago was just the cherry on top of how fucking sexy he looks sitting under the moonlight.

“Quit staring at me like that.” Eddie chuckles and raises an eyebrow at you.

“Like what?” You say it in a sing-song tone as you cross your ankles and rest your chin on your hands while you lay on your stomach across from him.

“You’re looking at me like you’re trying to make me telepathically bust a nut or something.” You bat your lashes at him as you start to kick your feet back and forth behind you in mock innocence.

“And? Is it working?” You jokingly wiggle your eyebrows and your ass his way, playing into his joke.

“If you keep it up, it just might, princess.” Eddie leans down and gives you a kiss on the head before playfully slapping your jean clad ass. A low whimper slips past your lips and it makes your boyfriend give you an inquisitive look that quickly turns into a nearly diabolical grin. “Oh?”

“Eddieee, don’t make it a thing, okay?” You groan and roll onto your back, throwing your hands up dramatically before letting them fall to your sides. “It’s not my fault you brought me on this cute ass date to one of my favorite places, you look like that, and now you’re slapping my ass. You’re the one being a slut.”

“Oh, yeah?” Without warning Eddie abruptly grips your hips to flip you back onto your back and smacks your ass with more power behind it than before. You can’t hold in the little yelp that drowns out into a moan when he spanks you again. “I think you’re the one being a slut, baby. I was trying to be all romantic and you’ve been practically eye fucking me since we were in the van…”

“I just don’t understand how you could think bringing me here in the middle of the night wasn’t going to make me horny?” You huff and roll around onto your back again so you can look up at your boyfriend who is kneeling above you, looking down at you smugly. Eddie’s eyes twinkle with lust and mischief as his hands come down to grip onto your wrists before he leans down into your face and straight up laughs. “Are you serious? This was your plan all along? You’re so annoying.”

“Hey, don’t get all bratty on me now, doll.” Eddie leans down and runs his nose along the column of your throat, inhaling the sweet vanilla cherry scent you always wore. “I wanted to treat you nice n sweet tonight. But if you want to give me an attitude I can bend you over my knee right here, right now.”

Your boyfriend is perfect, truly. The fact that he planned to bring you out here and make love to you all sweet under the full moon is one of the main reasons you love him. But right now? You feel like seeing how far you can push his buttons. You manage to wrap your legs around his hips enough to use the element of surprise and flip him on his back. You straddle him, your hands pinning him to the ground even though you know he could easily break free.

“What are you gonna do about it, Munson?” You grind down on him and let out this cute little giggle and Eddie swears he had every intention of throwing you over his knee and spanking you until your ass was raw. But god, you look so fucking beautiful straddling his lap with the moonlight illuminating down on you. Your hair is mused from having the windows down in the van and your black eyeliner smudged eyes are nearly glowing while your blackberry painted lips are quirked into this damn near bewitching smirk. You are wearing this loose fitting off shoulder long sleeve that shows off your bra straps and his favorite pair of black jeans that hug your body perfectly. The way you’re angled has your shirt riding up enough to show off your studded belt and black thong and it’s all enough to have Eddie nearly melting into the ground.

“God, anything you want, baby girl.” Eddie’s voice is sweet like honey and you can practically see the hearts in his eyes. You’re no stranger to taking control in the bedroom, it just wasn’t the direction you were expecting tonight to go. You’re not mad at it though. “Your wish is my command, truly.”

“Yeah? You gonna let me ride your fat cock? right here in the graveyard? You really are a slut tonight, huh?” Eddie whimpers and you feel his cock harden against your Jean clad pussy as you grind down on him.

“God, yes. Fucking please.” And what kind of person would you be to make him beg when he just looks so pretty underneath you? You stand so you can kick off your boots before reaching to undo your belt and then slowly start to pull off your jeans. You make a real show of it, wiggling them down your hips inch by agonizing inch, turning around to show off the way your ass looked when you pulled it free from the tight material, bending over extra as you pushed them down your legs. Eddie leans over and laces his thick ringed hand around your ankle before running his tongue along your calf while looking up at you with pleading eyes. “Please use me, baby.”

You pull your leg from his grasp in a swinging motion and plant your foot in the middle of his chest and Eddie swears he’s going to bust in his pants when you press the pad of your foot down into him, pinning him to the ground. More mentally than physically but it honestly just makes your pussy even wetter knowing that he could break free of you so easily, yet he doesn’t.

“Be a good boy and take that pretty cock out for me then.” You press on his chest again for emphasis before running your foot up his collar bones, neck, and finally along his cheek. You caress his stubble with your pretty black painted toes before pushing them down on his face, effectively pressing his cheek into the blanketed ground beneath him.

“Oh, fuuuckkk yes, fucking step on me, princess.” Eddie’s eyes roll back and he moans as he reaches for his pants and hastily undoes them along with his belt. He pushes them down his hips to his knees all while you crush his face into the blanket with your soft soled foot. You were fully ready to ride Eddie’s cock until he was dripping down your thighs but the minute it springs free you need it in your mouth. It’s so thick, the tip red and angry with precum that’s glistening from the light of the moon dripping down it and every time you see the ladder of barbells down his shaft it reminds you how worth those weeks of not having him inside you were. Because, god, do they feel so fucking good rubbing against your soft inner walls.

So you kneel down and straddle his face, reverse cowgirl and take his cock as far down your throat as you can in one go. Eddie hardly has time to process what’s happening before your hot mouth is enveloping him and your dripping thong covered pussy is inches from his face. God, he fucking loves you. He takes the hint and laces his arms around your thighs, pushes your panties to the side and shoves his face between your legs, eating your pussy like a man starved. He sucks your clit into his mouth and thrusts two fingers into your wet walls all while you practically swallow his cock whole, your tongue running along the piercings down his shaft with each bob of your head. The sensitivity of the bars on his cock cause him to twitch inside your mouth with each stroke of your pink muscle.

“Oh, yes, so fucking good, such a good fucking boy for me, Eddie. You’re gonna make me come if you keep doing that.” You pull off Eddie’s cock when he adds a third finger inside you before curling them deliciously against your sweet spot while you grind down on his face. His teeth catch your clit and pinch down on it and that’s all it takes a blistering explosion of pleasure washing over your body. Your legs clamp around his head and your hand is squeezing Eddie’s cock so tight he swears he’s going to come right along with you but seconds later you’re lifting off of him and flipping over to kiss him messily. He tastes like you, cigarettes, and sour gummy worms and you wish you could devour him and embed his essence in your very soul.

“I need to be inside you, baby, please.” Eddie whines against your mouth and it makes your clit thump all over again. You straddle him and grab his cock so you can line him up with your entrance and then you’re slamming down onto him until your hips are flush against his. You moan in unison at the feeling of him stretching you out. You can feel each and every one of his cock piercings as your tight walls practically suck him in. “God, you’re so fucking tight, so perfect. You look like a goddamn moon goddess.”

You start to bounce on his cock with reckless abandon. Your pussy is so wet it echoes off the trees and stones around you as your hips smack together with the force of your thrusts. Eddie pushes your shirt up over your head and you reach around to unhook your bra so your tits can fall free. You yank down the zipper of his hoodie and push up his tank top so you can run your nails down his tattooed chest and abs, leaving red marks in your wake.

“Fuck, I’m not gonna last much longer baby, you gotta come for me.” Eddie groans and plants his feet on the ground firmly while grabbing onto your ass in one hand and finding your clit with his other so he can pound into you deep and fast while rubbing your slick bud. It has your walls clenching around him and it only takes a few more pumps of his hips to have you gushing on his cock.

“Oh, fuck! Eddie, baby, yes, I’m coming - I’m coming!” You throw your head back as you let out these pornographic moans that are like music to Eddie’s ears and your tits are bouncing so beautifully it makes Eddie’s cock twitch deep inside you.

“Fuck, I’m gonna come.” You wrap your hands around Eddie’s neck and lean down to lick his sweaty cheek before running your lips along the shell of his ear.

“Give me your fucking cum, Eddie. I want it so deep it will be dripping out tomorrow. Put a baby in me.” And your words have his balls tightening and his load emptying inside of you while he grips onto your ass with his hips raised off the ground, pressed against yours.

“Oh god, fuck, you’re so beautiful. Gonna give you a baby, anything you want.” Eddie babbles while his dick continues to twitch inside you and he fills you with ropes and ropes of his cum. After a moment he goes limp underneath you and you let yourself roll off of him onto your side with your head on his chest.

“Did you mean that?” Your voice is barely a whisper as your fingers toy with the little initial around your boyfriend’s neck. His large hand comes up to smooth the hair on the back of your head before cupping your cheek, getting you to look at him.

“About giving you anything you want? Even a baby?” You nod up at him with big wide eyes and he can’t help but chuckle at how cute you are. Not very long ago you were stepping on his face and now you’re practically melting in his arms. “Of course, angel. You want a baby?”

“I mean - I know we haven’t talked about it really all that much but -“ Eddie cuts you off with a light shush and a gentle press of his fingertips to your lips.

“Do you want a baby?” His voice is matter of fact and his face is serious, but in a calming way. A reassuring way that feels like a warm cup of Apple cider after getting lost in a corn maze. It trickles down your spine and warms up your insides like sugary sweet liquid in only a way Eddie can.

“Yes.” You let out a breath you feel like you’ve been holding for months and his face lights up, he flips you over onto your back and hovers over you with that bright, goofy, signature Eddie smile that just makes you melt even more than you ever thought possible.

“Then, let’s have a baby, beautiful.”

Tagging some mooties who I think might be interested: @babygorewhore @cxrrodedcoffin @eddiesxangel @gri959 @dreamliners @littlexdeaths @myherometalhead @take-everything-you-can @myspacebrat

Divider is by @strangergraphics

#Dolly’s kinktober #kinktober #eddie munson x reader #eddie munson smut #eddie munson x female reader #eddie munson x fem!reader smut #eddie munson x fem!reader #sub!eddie munson #sub!eddie #Dolly writes #I low key hate this #bc I cut myself off a lot trying to keep it under 3k #I feel like the last half is rushed idk #but here u gooo

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