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#football theme room
sketsagriya · 2 years
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waow.. found a Beautiful Orb at the store today (giant ferrero rocher). I don't even want to crack into it and eat it.. I just want to hold it.. rotate it in my palm thoughtfully like I am an evil wizard who has just been delivered a Very Plot Significant magical gem and is scheming how to use it 
#I'm pretty sure it's hollow inside so I also have a compulsion to break it like I could crush it in my palm#also like a cool evil wizard lol#but I just want to admire it mostly#A chronic personality trait of mine is that I love things that are too small or too large ESPECIALLY food items..#like a miniature version of a candy is cool. a large version of a candy is cool. normal sided version? who cares#BUT thats why I always loved like dolls and things like that. I wouldnt give a shrimp about the dolls I would just get them for the small#stuff. Like miniature food and clothes . love tiny representations of things and little strinkets#I like giant things less but they're still cool. I have a comically large wine glass even though I don't drink alcohol and have never drank#in my life but someitmes I have like.. coffee or orange juice or something out of it and it looks very funny. I also have a few of those gia#nt holiday themed pencils. and I had a giant apple once that was like the size of a football#This fererro rocher is not actually very big compared to a normal one but it's mostly special because it's dark chocolate#NOT Rond Noir though which are the best ones (out of normal fererro rocher. rafaellos. and rone noirs. the Typical Three)#So I was very disappointed that it's just a giant dark chocolate ferero rocher shell instead of a legit giant rondnoir :c#BUT at least it's dark chocolate lol#OH currently playing catch with it because it's like the size of a baseball and this is great#I think everyone should get a giant fererro rocher and unwrap the foil outside and then just throw the raw chocolate orb around#by 'catch' i mean more like... juggling but with one ball. I love to throw things up in the air and try to catch them#like maybe throw them across the room a little and see if I can run to the other end of the room in time to also catch the thing that I thre#w lol.. playing solo catch instead of two people thworing objects back and forth#THIS IS WHAT I MEAN!!! how do people experience boredom???? i do not understand. it's one of the Base Human Emotions that I seem to be#lacking like.. I genuine have never felt ''bored'' the way that people describe it. I can always entertain myself. I could throw a chocolate#ball back and forth with myself for 2 hours I bet if I didn't have other stuff to do . when I was a kid I would sit in my room laying on my#back kicking pillows and laundry baskets up in the air and catching them for like an  hour straight. no tv in the background#no nothing. just getting lost in a repetitive physical task. i still LOOOOVE peeling carrots like if I just had a big pile of carrots I coul#d peel. or cutting candle wax into little balls or something. I am entertained by the smallest things. and even if I can't physically#do something and was locked in a blank white room for hours like.. doesn't everyone have a mental landscape they could entertain#themselves with? I spend legit half the day talking to myself and making commentary to myself for fun. there is ALWAYS something#interesting to do or think about like.. I just love everything a lot lol. I think thats part of why I'm also so detail oriented I just pay#attention to everything. I can spend 15 minutes admiring the way a piece of fabric folds at the corner of my sleeve or whatever#ANYWAY.. genuinely overjoyed throwing chocolate around. I wish I didn't have other stuff to get done so I could just Do This for 45 min lol
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onceandfutureclotpoll · 4 months
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Title: There Are No Gays in Football
Author: Malu_3 (Grainne)
Rating: Explicit
Summary: When a deeply-closeted Arthur Pendragon finally earns a spot in Camelot's first XI, he's dead set on breaking records, not one of sport's last taboos. But life, like football, is a funny old game, and sometimes the only way up is out. Especially once he realises he's arse over tit for the new physio.
A queer Arthurian tale of courage, love, and football.
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worshipsam · 1 year
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Traditional Kids
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Mid-sized elegant boy dark wood floor kids' room photo with multicolored walls
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ja3yun · 4 months
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The Doll House | Lee Heeseung
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doll!heeseung x fem!reader
warnings: smut (mdni), pure filth, dom!hee, unprotected sex, cream pie, oral (m&f. rec), clit biting, throat fucking, cock worshipping, doggy, pussy stepping, spanking, squirting, slight degradation and choking, pet names (baby), supernatural elements, religious themes (heaven/hell), anything else lmk!
wc: 16.8k
synopsis: with only 2 weeks left, you have formed a bond with each of the dolls, well, all of them except heeseung. as you snoop around his room to find out more about him, he gives you all the answers you're looking for and opens your eyes to a world you never knew was possible.
jongseong | masterlist | epilogue | alt ending
a/n: hi! it's officially the end of tdh! i need to put a massive thank you out to @haechonly as this entire series would never have been possible without their request! you are a star in my eyes and i can't ever thank you enough for trusting me to write this! i also want to thank everyone who took the time to read each chapter and leave comments or asks, i love you indefinitely <3 i hope the ending leaves you all satisfied and all your questions answered! as always, likes, reblogs, feeback, and everything in between is welcomed :)
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Folding the laundry, you glance over at the calendar on the day of your leave circled in red. There are only 2 weeks left until you finish up and you’re more than sad about it. Your heart aches every time you sleep because you know that you’re one day closer to returning to normality when you wake up.
The thought alone is overwhelming - how can you possibly contemplate returning to a life you loathe when you've uncovered a paradise here? In the company of Jaeyun, Sunghoon, and Jongseong, each fulfilling a unique role in your existence, you've found a sense of completeness that you fear will escape you once you leave. 
You're so fond of the dolls that you're willing to overlook the horrifying underworld that lurks in the library's secret room. You’ve learned that if you pay it no mind, it can’t touch you. Jongseong has reassured you time and time again that you need not worry about it, and you trust him, so you faithfully follow his guidance.
Jongseong has hardly explained anything, only that yes it was hell that lives in the flames but it’s more like a telephone than a portal - a cryptic analogy that only serves to fuel your curiosity - but he just keeps repeating himself time and time again: “Talk to Heeseung.”
Which would be fine if the doll ever gave you the time of day. He knows you know about them now so there’s no reason for him not to speak with you, yet he hardly utters a word, not even a simple thank you when you serve him dinner or excuse me when he bumps into you. He’s not avoiding you but ignoring you and for some reason that makes it worse. All you get from Heeseung is knowing stares and a sly smile plastered on his face.
You know he’s dangerous, Jongseong and Sunghoon are good at making you very aware of that, even his aura is enough to know that you shouldn’t mess with him, but their warnings about his inherent danger reverberate in your head, their evident readiness to give you to his care and seek answers calls into question his malevolence.
Jongseong said he doesn’t want to see your face when you find out, making you even more curious and it cannot be curbed until you get answers.
Grabbing the washing basket, you put the neatly folded clothes inside and make your way to drop them off outside each of the respective dolls’ rooms. They are off doing their own thing, even Jaeyun, who is typically tethered to your side, is engrossed in playing football with Jongseong, seemingly oblivious to your brief departure.
There was something Jongseong said to you over the past week that you can’t shake out of your head. He observed how close you and Jaeyun are, and how attached the younger doll has become to you. It’s not so much the observation as much as how he eyes the both of you now; there’s a knowingness in his pupils, like he’s keeping another secret from you, but you can’t figure out what. 
It’s obvious you and Jaeyun get along well, each of you loving to spend time with one another and waste the day away; as long as you’re together, that’s all that matters. You confided in Jongseong, telling him that whatever Jaeyun is feeling, whether happy or sorrowful, you feel it too. It's a connection so profound that only those who have experienced it firsthand can comprehend its depth.
Regret gnaws at you for telling Jongseong, for since then, his scrutiny has only intensified, leaving you to wonder what his meaningful gaze truly means.
You head towards Heeseung's room, initially planning to leave his clothes outside as per the rulebook. However, your rebellious streak, which has persisted almost since you got here, urges you otherwise. The last time you saw Heeseung was in the music room, practising the piano, so he isn’t around, leaving you the perfect opportunity to snoop.
If he isn’t giving you answers, maybe his room will.
Placing the basket on your hip, you open his door tentatively, scared to see what is on the other side. You’ve been in his room before but now that you’re delving into its nooks and crannies, you can’t help but feel some apprehension. This is new territory and with warnings about his character, you know if you’re caught, you are fucked.
His room is dull, his curtains remaining shut despite the summer weather outside. Come to think of it, you haven’t ever seen him sit out the front with the others, only ever being in their presence when he has to be. Sunghoon and Heeseung have a camaraderie, their personalities are woven from the same cloth, so you know they are close in some way. You’ve seen them sharing secrets and memories of their past but it’s always in hushed whispers, not letting anyone in on their fun.
Yet, when it comes to Jongseong, a noticeable distance lingers between them. Though their interactions remain civil, their friendship feels distant. Despite this, Jongseong's occasional defence of Heeseung hints at an underlying care between them, though you can't help but feel that there's more to their dynamic than meets the eye. You have enough mysteries in this house other than feuding brothers, so you’ve not given it much thought.
You set the basket down on the ottoman nestled at the foot of his bed, casting a quick glance around the room to assess your surroundings before delving into your impromptu snoop sesh. 
Your gaze drifts to his dressing table, its surface gathering dust and bereft of any adornments. It's a stark contrast to the other dolls' rooms, each of them cluttered with their interests and personalities. With a curious tilt of your head, you step closer, it's as if Heeseung deliberately keeps his space devoid of any semblance of identity or sentimentality. The only thing adorning the furniture is a scatter of dead flies that you turn your nose up to.
Jongseong had said Heeseung had been here for 8 years, surely that would warrant some decoration; even one book would be enough.
As your exploration continues, you come across a worn and torn box tucked away in the corner of the room. Kneeling down, you run your fingers over it, noticing how it’s the only thing devoid of dust in the room. Curiosity piqued, you carefully lift the lid, revealing a trove of forgotten treasures within.
Among the assortment of photographs, you come across snapshots capturing moments between Soonyeol and Heeseung. There is one photo of Soonyeol and Heeseung which she clearly forced him to be in, her cheek pressed hard against his and a smile on her face. Although it is a picture, you can feel her love for him emanating. 
Setting aside the photograph with care, your attention is drawn to another picture, this time commemorating Soonyeol's birthday. The scene is more recent, with Jaeyun's radiant smile serving as a focal point. His embrace of the birthday girl evokes a pang of envy within you, swiftly tempered by the reminder that he belongs to Soonyeol.
"Hmm, she’s 28," you remark, noting the candles donning the birthday cake in the photograph. You could have sworn she was the same age as you; maybe it’s her skincare cupboard you should be raiding through.
Nestled among the keepsakes is a handwritten note, its edges yellowed with age. As you unfold it, the scrawl of Soonyeol's handwriting greets your eyes. The heartfelt words penned on the paper speak of cherished moments and promises of eternal love for Heeseung, her words of gratitude for saving her.
You can't help but wonder what drove Heeseung to save Soonyeol. If Heeseung is indeed this elusive big bad wolf, it begs the question: why would he ever come to someone's rescue?
"What are you doing?" A low voice reverberates through the cold walls, jolting you from your exploration. Startled, you scramble to restore everything to its place, your heart pounding with fear as you hastily rise to your feet, meeting Heeseung's gaze with wide-eyed apprehension.
Heeseung stands before you, arms crossed and a frown etched across his features. His expression speaks volumes, conveying a mix of irritation and suspicion at your intrusion into his private space. You can't fault him for his reaction; after all, he just caught you looking through his personal belongings that clearly no one but him is meant to see.
Hurriedly, you retreat to the safety of the laundry basket, clutching it as if it were a shield against his disapproval, "Sorry, Heeseung," you stammer, offering a feeble explanation for your presence, "I-I was just putting your laundry away."
Heeseung's gaze remains fixed on you, his expression unreadable as he assesses your explanation. The silence between you stretches taut, punctuated only by the distant hum of the house.
After what feels like an eternity, Heeseung finally speaks, his voice cool and measured, "You know the rules, Y/N, leave it outside," he admonishes, his tone firm.
"Sorry, Heeseung," you murmur, bowing your head as his reprimand sinks in. Your body feels clammy with sweat, a lump forming in your throat, and your heart pounding erratically. It's unnerving to be alone with him for the first time, leaving you feeling timid and inferior in his presence.
Heeseung strides further into the room, his figure imposing as he sets about restoring the box you disrupted, methodically arranging his treasures back into order. As you watch his back, uncertainty gnaws at you, weighing your options for the next move. You're aware that he expects you to leave, and perhaps you should for your own sake. Yet, this unexpected encounter presents an opportunity you've been yearning for - a chance to pose the questions that Jongseong has been evading.
"You're not like the other 3, are you?" you venture timidly, hoping to broach the subject without eliciting a harsh response from him.
Heeseung straightens up, exhaling sharply as he runs a hand through his hair, his eyebrows arching in surprise at your question. "What? Because I haven't fucked you, is that what you mean?" His tone drips with disdain at your observation, his words sharp and cutting.
"No, it's not that," you hurriedly clarify, sensing his hostility, "It's just...your aura, it's different," you explain despite struggling to put your thoughts into words.
Heeseung's expression shifts, a flicker of surprise crossing his features at your unexpected comment. "Different? How so?" he asks, curiosity replacing the initial edge of hostility.
You take a cautious step forward, emboldened by his slightly less defensive demeanour, "It's hard to explain," you admit, searching for the right words to articulate the subtle but distinct quality that sets him apart. "It's like... there's a depth to you, something...darker," you struggle to find the right description, hoping he'll understand that you aren’t trying to call him evil, even if that is what you are eluding to.
Tilting his head, Heeseung starts to smirk, a glint of amusement dancing in his eyes. He licks the side of his mouth casually before speaking, his tone teasing, "You have no idea who I am, do you?"
You don’t, that’s quite obviously the issue you’re having. You suppress the urge to roll your eyes because fuck whatever would come from that. So instead, you settle for shaking your head, hoping he will elaborate of his own accord.
The curiosity is evident on his face as he steps forward slightly, “You mean to tell me you’ve been here almost 2 months, fucked each of my brothers more times than I can count, and you still don’t know who we are?”
Feeling a flush of embarrassment creep up your cheeks at Heeseung's blunt question, the weight of his words hanging heavy in the air. It’s not through lack of trying, you have turned over every book, looked on every shelf, and bobby pinned your way into locks, yet you’re still in the dark.
Your silence only seems to fuel Heeseung's wicked merriment, his smirk widening into a sharp grin as he peers straight through you. "I really thought Jongseong would have caved by now. God knows how he really does love to paint himself as still a saint."
Drawing in a deep breath, Heeseung prepares to reveal the truth you've been longing to uncover. Your body stills as you realise this is finally it, everything you’ve been wanting, no, needing to know - he is about to let you in.
"We're from all over heaven and hell," he explains, his voice tinged with amusement that was targeted at your now shocked expression, "angels and demons, Baby, that’s what we are."
As his words sink in, you find yourself ensnared in a whirlwind of confusion and uncertainty. Angels and demons? The implications of such a revelation send a shiver down your spine. 
Of course, they weren't human, you knew that much, but how can they be otherworldly beings straight out of myths, the kind you only hear about in churches and Supernatural episodes? The concept is difficult to fully process, leaving you grappling with a reality that feels more like a dream - or perhaps a nightmare. You would have been much more settled if they were the ghosts of those who lived here previously - this being one of the many guesses you made about their lives.
You've grown to adore the dolls, cherishing their presence above all else. But the newfound knowledge that some of them are demons sends a chill down your spine, casting a shadow of unease over your once-idyllic existence.
Sensing your need for clarity, Heeseung's voice breaks through the tumult of your thoughts. "Who do you want to know about first?" he inquires as his eyebrows raise, "I think it's only right that we start with your little angel, hmmm?"
Jaeyun. 
Nodding, you brace yourself for whatever he is about to say. 
“You’ll be glad to know, your lover boy is an angel,” he starts to explain and you already feel a relief wash over you. If Jaeyun was an evil spirit, that would have destroyed any perception you had of him, leaving you to question the authenticity of the connection you share; the idea that he could have manipulated you would hurt your soul more than you’d like to admit.
You see Heeseung weigh up his next words, “Well…not quite, he should have been but I stopped that from happening,” he confesses, feigning remorse for his doings, “He was actually meant to be a guardian angel. When he died in an accident, his soul was so pure he was handpicked to be someone's personal dove boy.”
“Wait, what do you mean you stopped it?” you ask almost immediately, your curiosity outweighing any other emotion as he speaks.
"He was wandering the veil, the in-between of life and death, waiting to be guided to heaven when I heard him crying out, confused and scared. He died too soon, but that greedy fuck up the stairs clearly couldn’t let him just live out his life the way he wanted to."
There’s anger in his voice as he speaks; it doesn’t take a genius to know he’s talking about God. You’ve always been taught that there is a plan for everyone, that no matter what happens, it’s the right path. Clearly, Heeseung doesn’t share the same outlook.
“So I answered his call and guided him to Soonyeol and the rest of us. Jaeyun only wanted to be loved and cherished his whole life, that was his dream, and I granted it in exchange for his memories,” he sees you poised with another question, but he stops you, raising a hand to silence you, “If you’re going to ask why I did that, it’s because he wouldn’t have coped otherwise, and he would have looked at us in anger rather than love.”
You have so many new questions, but as you go to speak, you can’t. Your mouth is dry, and your throat holds back a sob. You feel awful as you think about Jaeyun being scared after death, calling out for help, and in the end being stripped of his memories. Heeseung is acting as if he did him a favour - and in some way, he has - but he has also torn him away from his path.
As you struggle to find the right words to express your thoughts, Heeseung's gaze softens if only slightly, a flicker of understanding passing between you. "I know it's a lot to take in," he offers gently, his tone devoid of its usual edge, "But trust me when I say that Jaeyun is happier here than he ever was in his old life, and certainly more than he would be as a guardian. Soonyeol needed someone to look after and that’s all he has ever wanted; It’s a win-win.”
“So this was all for Soonyeol? Be honest with me,” you ask, picking up on his last sentence. 
With a definitive nod, Heeseung doesn't deny your observation, "Everything that I have done is for her." 
That piques your interest and the pieces of the puzzle start to fall into place, “Does that mean you did the same with the others? You brought them here for Soonyeol’s benefit?”
He lets out a heavy exhale, his demeanour shifting as he crosses his arms. “You make it sound like I've wronged Jaeyun,” he counters, any trace of understanding vanishing as his cold manner returns to the forefront. 
You didn’t mean for it to sound accusatory, but you can’t help but call a spade a spade. Heaven is deemed difficult to enter - what with all the rules and hail mary’s - so for Jaeyun to be seen as holy enough to become someone’s guardian angel was a privilege he should have been able to experience.
Mirroring his posture, you cross your arms, a silent declaration of your determination. It might be foolish to stand toe to toe with him, considering his power to manipulate Jaeyun's memories and drag him to Earth, but you refuse to show any sign of weakness.
Heeseung grins, genuinely amused by your stance. He's impressed by your resolve, having pegged you for someone who would flee at the mere mention of demons. "You've got some backbone," Heeseung remarks, his grin widening as he observes your defiance, "I like that."
His words catch you off guard, a mixture of surprise and curiosity flickering in your eyes. Despite the gravity of the situation, you can't help but feel a small swell of pride at his unexpected approval.
“So? The others?”
“No, the others actually asked for my help, Sunghoon was practically crying out and begging to be saved from his cell in hell,” Heeseung explains as he reminisces about his first encounter with Sunghoon.
You nod slowly, trying to wrap your head around the revelation, “So he is a demon?” you mumble to yourself, looking down at the ground. Honestly, you should have known, he fucks you like he was part of the incubus club. Yet he is also so tender in his actions, he helps you out and makes sure you’re okay, gives you forehead kisses and aftercare - it doesn’t scream evil.
Clicking his fingers, Heeseung points them at you, a mischievous wink fluttering over to you, “Bingo. Sunghoon used to be a soldier, serving under one of the rulers in hell, Dis. The guy was made from remains of Lucifer, the Devil, whatever you want to call him, and because of that, he thought he was some big shot, ordering his soldiers to do horrific things, things even I wouldn’t do.”
You stand wide-eyed, taking in his words. You can't help but feel sorrow for Sunghoon, knowing how tormented he must have been in the depths of hell. It's an odd realisation to feel pity for a demon who you know must be bad enough to be prevented from entering Heaven.
"He couldn’t bear the torture anymore and he rebelled against Dis. Sunghoon has always despised authority; his only desire is to be in control, making him public enemy number one in the underworld. Ever been to jail in hell?" it's a rhetorical question because of course you haven’t, but you shake your head answering anyway. “Yeah, it’s not pretty. Sunghoon managed to contact me, pleading to do anything to escape. Hence, here he is.”
“What did he have to sacrifice? Or do you only make deals with angels?” you blurt out unintentionally, your distaste for Heeseung's methods bubbling to the surface.
“I’d watch that fucking tongue of yours before I tear it out and feed it to the dogs.”
Heeseung's threat hangs heavy in the air, his words laced with a chilling intensity that raises goosebumps over your body. You swallow hard, the weight of his gaze bearing down on you.
Clearing your throat, you attempt to steer the conversation back on track, knowing there is so much more to uncover, "I’m sorry, Heeseung," you say, your voice steady despite the tremor of uncertainty lingering within you, "I just want to understand.”
Heeseung appears satisfied with your apology, though his next words still carry a warning tone, “I heard a rumour you were a good girl. If you want to keep that reputation, I suggest you zip it.” Your cheeks flushed crimson, memories of your nights with Jongseong flooding your mind. You recalled the countless times he had called you his good girl, his perfect angel.
He continues, delving into the details of his arrangement with Sunghoon. "Sunghoon gave me his powers and his word," he explained, his tone taking on a grave seriousness, "I made it clear to him that he could have paradise with a girl who wanted some direction in her life, but if he ever laid an unwanted finger on her, I would hand his head to Dis myself."
You couldn’t help but feel a sense of unease at the thought of the intricate power dynamics at play within the household, each member bound by their own set of rules and obligations.
“The only person he has to answer to is Soonyeol, an upgrade from being whipped and battered with iron chains, wouldn’t you say?” Heeseung steps closer, his eyes flashing with a hint of crimson, or maybe it's just your imagination. All this information must be taking its toll on you, the headache forming in your frontal lobe might be tricking your eyes.
Heeseung's piercing gaze bores into yours and you can’t shake the unsettling feeling of being scrutinised, as if he were sizing you up as his next potential victim. Despite the growing discomfort prickling at the back of your mind, you steeled yourself, maintaining a carefully constructed facade of composure to shield against falling for his traps.
“And Jongseong? He’s a demon too?” you inquire quietly.
“Baby, he’s the furthest thing from it. In fact, you must have some powers of your own to get him to fuck you,” Heeseung responds with a scoff, his laughter ringing with a hint of mockery. He shakes his head, a sardonic smirk playing on his lips as he contemplates the notion of you and Jongseong together.
Heeseung's amusement fades into a knowing smile as he watches your face turn to confusion, "Jongseong is no demon, darling. He's a full-fledged guardian angel, just like Jaeyun was supposed to be," he explains, rendering you shocked.
Everything about Jongseong falls into place; how he's been looking after you from the very beginning, with his caring demeanour, always urging you to do what’s best, and his unwavering efforts to provide comfort and ease. It's just who he is.
As you reflect on Jongseong's constant care and support, a sense of gratitude washes over you. Jongseong has remained a steadfast presence, guiding you through the labyrinth of this otherworldly realm; he didn’t have to show you the altar or delve into how they were summoned, but he did to ease your mind, all the while shielding you from its evil secrets. It’s not that he didn’t want to tell you, it’s that he was protecting you from the hell of it all.
But if he is a guardian angel, he is too good to be here with a demon and a lost soul.
“Then why is he here? Shouldn’t he be the guardian of his human or something-” Just as the sentence passes your lips, your mouth falls open, eyes popping out of your head as you answer your own question, “He is Soonyeol’s guardian angel, isn’t he?”
Heeseung smiles proudly and claps his hands once. "You are one smart cookie," he observes, his tone without sarcasm for once. 
“Shouldn’t guardian angels be silent? Like a gut feeling?” 
Heeseung answers you with a casual shrug, a smirk playing at the corners of his lips, "Yeah, hence the doll costume. Actually…it's my fault he's stuck like that," he admits, his face scrunched up as he contemplates whether you will find his actions disconcerting or admirable. "Soonyeol wasn't listening to his pleas, she ignored her instinct, so he made himself visible - which by the way is a number one no-no up there,” he points out before continuing, “he wanted to warn her of the consequences of her actions. As a result, he lost his wings, God cut the tie between them and demoted him to a simple heaven walker. It was all quite a scandal.”
You don’t know what to say, how can you say anything when all you want to do is curse out everyone who had a part to play in Soonyeol and Jongseong’s parting?
“Then he tried to see her again, defying God and his stupid ‘disapproving actions have consequences’ bullshit. Jongseong was deemed to be sinful and therefore, poof,” Heeseung explains further, twinkling his fingers as if it were a cloud of smoke, “He was banished to heaven’s wasteland forever.”
Amusement that seems to dance in Heeseung's eyes feels wrong as if there's a sick happiness he derives from Jongseong's misery. You know angels and demons have never seen eye to eye but they are close enough to call one another ‘brother’, surely that has to stand for some sympathy?
Sensing your disapproval, Heeseung wipes the smile from his face, his demeanour turning cold. "Judge me all you want, Baby, but I helped him get her back," he asserts, his voice dripping with venom, "Without me, he wouldn't be near her." There's a bitter edge to his tone, a hint of resentment seeping through his words.
"God wanted Jongseong to never see her again, but I knew that would hurt her," he continues, his eyes flashing with intensity, "A guardian angel and their human have a bond that is stronger than any love you can even imagine, especially when they come into contact. He couldn’t live without her, his desperate longing ached so loud that’s all I could fucking hear for weeks. So I got him out of that heaven hole and brought him closer to her than he ever was."
The raw emotion in Heeseung's words sends a chill down your spine, his bitterness and resentment palpable in the air. You feel for Jongseong, caught in the crossfire of divine politics and human emotions. He only wanted to protect her and he got scolded for it, reprimanded for fulfilling his duty to her, that part is tripping you up the most. Well, that and one other thing.
"This is so confusing," you exclaim, rubbing your temples in frustration. "So it's your fault he's the doll because? Surely the real reason would be whatever he was trying to protect her from, the thing that caused him to show himself."
With a smirk, Heeseung nods, pointing to himself. "Yeah, that was me," he admits unabashedly, "She was summoning me." 
Your eyebrows shoot up in surprise at Heeseung's admission. "She was summoning you?" you repeat, incredulous.
Heeseung nods, his smirk widening into a joyful grin. "Yep," he confirms, pride creeping into his tone. "She called, and I answered.”
The implications of Heeseung's revelation leave you speechless. Soonyeol's actions inadvertently set off a chain of events that ultimately led to Jongseong's downfall. It's a sobering reminder of the unpredictable nature of their world and the consequences of meddling with forces beyond control.
"Why you?" you finally manage to ask, your voice barely above a whisper.
Heeseung steps forward, closing the distance between you with an unsettling grace. His presence looms over you, casting a shadow of unease, "I suppose I should formally introduce myself," he says, bowing his head with a wicked grin, "I'm Heeseung, formally known as Beelzebub. 
I'm a Prince of Hell."
The world spins groggily around you, your limbs going numb as the weight of his words hangs heavy in the air. You find yourself at a loss, grappling with the realisation that you've been living with none other than the Lord of the Flies himself.
Beelzebub, one of the seven Princes of Hell, holds a position of immense power and authority in the underworld. As the third in command, he wields influence and dominion over legions of demons, surpassing even the mightiest of Archangels in strength and cunning.
Despite your limited knowledge of demonology, you understand enough to know that Beelzebub is not to be trifled with. His name alone strikes fear into the hearts of humans and angels alike, a testament to his formidable reputation and malevolent nature.
As Heeseung's hand brushes against your cheek, a reflexive flinch courses through you. "Don't be scared of me now, Baby," he says, a sly grin playing at the corners of his lips. There's a hint of amusement in his tone as he relishes the unease he elicits from you, "I'm actually enjoying your questions. Go on, hit me with another one." 
He is far too casual about this, then again, he has known of his identity forever so he has no reason to be startled.
You hesitate, unsure of what question to pose next. The revelation of Heeseung's true identity has left your mind reeling, your heart pounding in your chest, and palms sweaty. There’s no doubt he senses how your nerves are rattled, that smug look on his face says it all. 
But you need answers so you compose yourself and pull up your big girl pants.
Gathering your thoughts, you finally muster the courage to speak, swallowing the lump in your throat, “Why did Soonyeol summon you?”
His facial expression shifts from smug to something softer, a hint of fondness flickering in his eyes as he reminisces about Soonyeol and their relationship. "She called me," he begins, his voice carrying a note of nostalgia, "A young girl who couldn’t find her place in the world. All she wanted was to be lifted from her toxic family and find the serenity she needed."
"And you granted her wish?" you prompt, eager to understand the dynamics of their relationship and the extent of Heeseung's influence over Soonyeol's life.
Heeseung nods, a faint smile tugging at the corners of his lips. "I did, I gave her all of this," he confirms, his voice tinged with a mixture of pride and affection as he gestures around him, speaking of the house and the dolls which live in it, "I offered her a way out, a chance to escape her past and forge a new destiny. And in return, she granted me her loyalty, devotion, and eventually, her soul."
The discovery of Soonyeol’s past leaves you reeling, your perception of her shifting in an instant. Here you were, thinking she was all-powerful and commanding, when in reality, she was just a scared girl in her twenties. The thought of what she must have endured, what drove her to call upon a demon for help, fills you with a profound sense of empathy and compassion.
If Heeseung granted Soonyeol her deepest desires, if he offered her a way out of her suffering, then what does that say about his own motivations? After all, as a Prince of Hell, he could have chosen to do whatever he pleased. Yet, he chose to stay loyal to Soonyeol.
Then, just like that, it hits you: he must love her in some capacity. It's the only explanation for his unwavering loyalty, for his willingness to sacrifice some of his own freedom for her sake.
You breathe out softly, nodding as you agree with your mind, “You love her, don’t you? That’s why you stick around and give her anything she wants, even if that means letting herself indulge in more than just you.”
He scoffs and laughs loudly, making you jump back slightly, “Y/N, this isn’t a soppy fairytale or one of your romance novels. I’m a Prince of Hell, not Prince Charming. I’m incapable of love,” his face is bright, tittering at even the implication, “I am fond of her though, I will admit. She has a charm about her that intrigues me.”
“Then why do you stay, fondness isn’t enough to stay in this house,” you question, a little more confident now that his protective guard is down. 
He pauses, mulling over your question before responding, “I promised I would give her what she needs, and she needs me,” he explains, his voice taking on a lower, more intimate tone. As he moves closer to you, his signature smirk returns, “And I don’t break my promises, Y/N.”
You tremble a little, the lowering octave in his voice causes your knees to quake and heart to still. As Heeseung's body towers closer, you find yourself captivated by the intensity in his gaze, the allure of his enigmatic persona drawing you in like a moth to a flame. 
His menacing smirk widens as he watches your reaction, his eyes gleaming with a mixture of amusement and something deeper, something you can't quite decipher. Just being this close to him is making your body react in a way it shouldn’t, your thighs rubbing together as he looks into your eyes, seeking to find out what’s going on in your brain.
And unfortunately for you, he’s good at picking up your signals.
"What do you need, Y/N? Let me help you," he murmurs, his voice a soothing melody that resonates deep within you. You take a step back, intending to create some distance between you, but your legs betray you, colliding with the edge of the bed and sending you stumbling backwards.
Just as you brace for impact, Heeseung is there, his strong arms wrapping around you in a protective embrace. His touch is electrifying, sending a jolt of warmth through your veins as he steadies you effortlessly. "See? You can trust me," he reassures, his voice low and hypnotic as he holds you close.
His words slice through the air like a siren's call, drawing you nearer despite the warning bells in your mind. As Heeseung's eyes lock with yours, vulnerability washes over you, a desire to confide in him, to bare the depths of your desires.
“I know what you want anyway. Your soul has been calling out for it. I can hear you crying out, just like I did the others,” his grip on your waist tightens.
You stay still, pondering his words. How can he hear your soul’s desires when you’ve been grappling and searching to figure out what you want your entire life? You moved to the big city for university because you thought it was a sure cut way to achieve fulfilment, only to find unhappiness. You entered relationships yearning for love, only to hide away from the commitment when it all got too real.
In all your existence, you have never known what you want.
But he does, you can see it in his eyes, “What do I want, Heeseung?” you ask both curiously and longingly, hoping he can shed some light upon you.
“You want this life, with us,” Heeseung says matter of factly, his eyes tracing the contours of your face as the scared expression turns into one of perplexion, “Don’t you see it? How you took Soonyeol’s place so easily, falling into her role like you were born to be ours, like we were made for you.”
His words linger, thick with insinuation. You study his eyes for signs of deception, but all you see is sincerity, a profound conviction that sends shivers down your spine because deep down within you, you know it’s true too.
Ever since you set foot in this house, you've felt it - a subtle shift in the air, a stirring of something dormant within you. In the city, you lived in a tiny flat, unemployed and miserable, your only solace found in the familiar glow of your television screen as you binge-watched your favourite shows for the umpteenth time.
But here, in the mansion, it's different. Cleaning its halls and tending to the dolls and their needs, it's given you a purpose you thought you had lost along the way. Each day brings with it a renewed sense of fulfilment, a feeling of being truly alive in a way you haven't felt in years.
You want this life, you’ve fallen in love with its routine and stability, how each day you wake up and roam the halls, admiring the artwork and serenity in the echoes of your footsteps. The silence of it all makes your heart weep with joy, the boys you have come to cherish - even now, despite knowing about their supernatural entities and the mass power they hold - you love them dearly.
Heeseung, as if reading your mind, smirks and licks his lips, “You feel alive, don’t you?” He knows you do, he can see it in your eyes and the feel of your blood rushing along your veins. Mia was right when she said you were glowing all but two weeks ago. You’re radiant, like you have your own personal sun perched upon your shoulder, giving you an incandescent glow.
You’re finally happy.
“You also want one more thing,” Heeseung’s voice is a mere whisper now, his lips tantalisingly close to yours. Your pupils dilate as you lock eyes with him, his presence drawing you in as if he's reaching into the depths of your soul, rummaging around inside to pull you apart, “You’ve been craving me.”
A visceral energy electrifies every nerve ending in your body as he speaks, the expectation crackling in the air. You're standing on the verge of something exciting and new, and it feels like time has stopped still. The intensity of his stare searing into yours, the heat of his fingers against your back as he dips them up your shirt makes you shakily exhale the breath you were holding.
He rubs his beautiful, sharp nose against yours, closing his eyes as he reads further into your heart, “You feel like you’re missing out on me," he murmurs, his voice dripping with sinister undertones, because he knows he has you exactly where he wants you.
It’s embarrassing but it’s true, even if you don’t wish to admit it to yourself. You don’t want to seem ungrateful to the other three because truly they have given you everything you could ever need; but no amount of fulfilment from them can stop your aching body, wanting nothing more than to have the doll in front of you, the one who is currently holding you so tightly that you should feel trapped, yet you’ve never felt more liberated.
As his arms tighten around you, holding you in a suffocating grip, you find your voice trembling with desire and uncertainty, "You never showed any interest in me. I didn’t think you wanted me." 
A wicked grin twists across Heeseung's lips, his eyes glinting with malice as he leans down to your neck, licking a long stripe up your jugular, savouring your taste on his tongue. He can’t stop the rumble of a chuckle coming from his chest.
“Baby, you just seemed to be having such a good time with my brothers; who was I to deny them your presence?” Heeseung nips are your skin, eliciting a moan from your dry throat. The air around you both is stifling, the atmosphere heavy with want and greed because you both know what is about to happen, even if you want to stop it - which you don’t.
Heeseung’s allure is too powerful for you to deny, it’s easy to see how Soonyeol got sucked in so easily, wanting him in her life and summoning him here forever. His touch though, is another level of intoxication entirely. His large hands roam your body with a possessiveness that sends your mind reeling, drowning in a sea of exhilaration.
As you part your lips to speak, Heeseung watches you with predatory patience, knowing that whatever words escape your mouth, they will only serve to further his agenda. In this moment, you are merely a pawn in his twisted game, powerless to defy the inexorable pull of his dark charisma.
“Jongseong said you don’t like to be last,” you say, discretely questioning his reasoning for not coming into contact with you sooner.
Laughing, Heeseung shakes his head with a sinister delight. His bottom lip grazes up your chin, dragging closer until it hovers mere millimetres from your mouth, “Oh, he couldn’t be more wrong. I wanted you to experience them first and let them have some fun with you,” he presses you harshly against him, letting you feel his thick cock against your heat, causing you to whimper slightly, much to his approval.
He kisses your lips every so lightly, your instincts to chase his mouth with yours only adding to his amusement. You’re such a strong-willed girl, he knows that by how he has observed you and how long you have remained in this house despite the constant terror and unease it has bestowed upon you. So to see you utterly weak like this is fueling his desire like crazy.
You look at him, waiting for him to talk again and say anything that would give you both the green light to divulge your sins.
“I let them have you because if I got to you first,” he murmurs, his lips brushing against your ear, and you can feel the smugness radiating from him, "You wouldn’t have even looked their fucking way."
Heat surges through you, an uncomfortable arousal that threatens to overwhelm you as you struggle to contain the torrent of desire within you. It's as if every inch of your skin is on fire, and you long to shed it all off your bones just to cool the burning sensation. The wetness between your legs is undeniable as it practically runs down your thighs.
Your heart pounds in sync with the rhythm of his kisses trailing along your neck and jawline and your hands clench at your sides, tension and lust swirling within you. If this is going to happen, it's going to happen now, forcing you to confront the question that looms over you like a dark cloud,
Are you going to fuck a Prince from Hell?
There are so many wrongs to counteract the rightness of this moment, knowing that this is territory foreign to the others you’ve laid with. They might be celestial beings but Heeseung is a God in his own right and he fucking knows it.
You can feel his amusement radiating off him as he watches you struggle with your inner thoughts, relishing in your torment as you wrestle with the pros and cons of surrendering to him completely. But amidst the chaos of your thoughts, one thing remains clear:
You want him. More than anything, you want to give in to the temptation that beckons you toward him, to lose yourself in the darkness that surrounds him. And as you meet his gaze with unwavering determination, you know that no matter the consequences, you're ready to embrace the inferno that awaits.
“So…can I ruin them for you?”
He looks at you using the triangle method and you almost physically fall to your knees, each time his eyes dart between your mouth and eyes, you feel saliva forming at the corner of your lip, lustfully loving his hooded eyes as he stares down at you. The way he assesses you, with a predatory focus that makes your heart race, leaves you feeling exposed and vulnerable.
But you want to fuck him so bad, you think you might die.
With a skip of your heart, you nod, surrendering to the inevitable. It's all the confirmation Heeseung needs and in an instant, his lips crash down on yours, a collision that would make Asmodeus jealous.
His touch is paradoxical, you can feel the roughness of his grip on your right tit, a stark contrast to the tenderness of his lips, and it only serves to heighten the intensity of the moment. It’s obvious you're not alone in your craving; Heeseung has been consumed by thoughts of you since the first moment he laid eyes on you, a primal urge driving him to mark you as his own.
And as you lose yourself in the heat of the moment, you know that there's no turning back.
"I'm gonna fucking destroy every other man for you," he growls before roughly pushing you onto the bed, the severity of which causes you whiplash. 
In urgency, Heeseung hastily works to remove your bottoms, his hands precise with anticipation, making sure he doesn’t lose another second. The fabric slides off your hips with ease, revealing the glistening wetness between your thighs and the cold air kisses your exposed cunt, making you shiver.
Heeseung's middle finger traces along your folds, collecting some of your slick arousal and spreading it with sinful precision, applying pressure on points you’re sensitive. As he teases you, his voice drips with a mixture of amusement and wicked desire.
"Your cunt is drooling over a demon, are you not embarrassed?" he taunts, his words laced with a dark edge that ignites a fierce blush on your cheeks. What’s worse is that his mockery only serves to stoke the lust within you, your hole clenching involuntarily in response.
Unfortunately for you, he notices, his chuckle knowing. "I do love a girl with no shame," he mumbles, his voice thick as he revels in the sight of your unabashed arousal.
With a predatory glint in his eyes, Heeseung wastes no time diving in, his mouth and tongue delving into your slick folds with a hunger that borders on ravenous. The sensation is overwhelming, a tidal wave of pleasure crashing over you as he explores every inch of your dripping sex with unrestrained fervour.
His movements are uninhibited, his tongue tracing erratic patterns against your sensitive nub as he seeks to consume you entirely. Each wet, sloppy lick and suck sends sparks of ecstasy shooting through your body, building the tension to an almost unbearable peak.
In the throes of pleasure, your instinctive reach to grab Heeseung's hair proves to be your first mistake. Before your fingers can even brush against his roots, he retaliates with a harsh bite on your clit, causing you to recoil with a cry, tears welling in your eyes.
“I didn’t say you could touch me, did I?” he warns, his mouth still wet with your juices as he looks up at you with a mix of dominance and satisfaction.
The memory of your first encounter with Jongseong floods your mind, the way he punished you for your disobedience is still vivid in your memory. It was meant to deter you from acting out, and in his case, it did. But now, with Heeseung, the desire to be reprimanded once again ignites within you, a need that demands satisfaction. 
Jongseong awakened something inside of you, a craving for submission and punishment that you never knew existed. And now, with Heeseung, you yearn to explore it on a new level, one that a sweet angel like Jongseong is too kind to deliver. 
It’s exciting and foolish all at once.
Gently, you run your hands through his hair, feeling the texture of it between your fingers as you grasp at his roots. 
Heeseung's reaction is immediate, his body tensing at your touch even as a low growl rumbles in his chest. But instead of pulling away, he leans into your touch, his tough facade cracking ever so slightly as a faint tremor runs through him. It's a fleeting moment of vulnerability, a crack in the armour he wears so proudly.
For a brief instant, you glimpse the man behind the Prince of Hell, a creature of darkness with desires and needs of his own. You ponder if this is what Soonyeol gives him, if that is why he is so reluctant to enjoy your comforting touch.
But before you can think much more about it, he reacts with swift brutality, sinking his teeth harshly down on your clit once more. The pain is searing, a sharp shock that tears a cry of both pain and pleasure from your lips. It's a punishment, yes, but one that you oh so desperately want.
His teeth sink in with immense force that causes you so much pain you try to escape, kicking your legs to scramble from him. But that only makes things worse as he grips your thighs with might to hold you in place, bruises and indents already forming under his nails. He adds a cruel twist, pulling at your bug sharply, causing your hips to rise instinctively towards his mouth in a futile attempt to ease the agony.
But Heeseung isn't fooled by your subtle movements. He catches on quickly, his grip tightening on your clit before he roughly pushes you down onto the bed, his palm pressing forcefully into your stomach to keep you in place.
"Don't make me rip it off," he growls, his eyes blazing with a volatile mix of anger and lust. It's a warning laced with danger, a reminder of the power he wields over you, “You’re so good for Jongseong, his…what did he call you? his ‘good little girl’, was that it?” he asks you with a condescending tone.
How did he know about that?
Your eyes widen and he idly rubs your pussy painfully slowly, sighing out loud with over-exaggeration, his eyes twinkling with mischief. Heeseung's knowledge of your intimate dynamics with Jongseong sends a shiver down your spine. His fingers, though moving torturously slowly, ignite sensations that both excite and terrify you. 
“What? You thought you could call upon the entirety of Hell and word wouldn’t get back to me?”
That night when Jongseong set your underwear ablaze and used your essence as a way to reach the pits below you. They heard it all; your whimpering and moaning for the angel, how you begged him to fuck you, and how he called you his good girl.
Which means Heeseung heard it all…
Spitting on your pussy, he licks it back up, the white foam sitting on his tongue as he draws it back into his mouth slowly. It’s another way of torturing you, of giving you a piece of him while just as quickly taking it away.
“If you can be a good girl for him, why aren’t you being one for me?” Heeseung's faux pout and slumped shoulders mask the dominance in his tone. With each flick of his finger, he revives the pain back onto your rose, denying you any reprieve.
You whimper with each taunt, wishing he would just go back to sucking your clit, to lick the wounds he created - but this is what you get when you play with fire.
Breathing out slowly, you nod, relenting your notion to be punished…for now.
“I’m sorry, I’ll be good,” you say sorrowfully, thrusting your clit up as you serve yourself to him on a plate.
Heeseung pauses, his expression shifting as he considers your apology. For a moment, it seems as though he might relent, his features softening with the faintest hint of hesitation. But then, with a wicked glint in his eyes, he shakes his head slowly.
"You know," he muses, his voice dripping with amusement, "I've always had a preference for bad girls." You almost moan out loud, the way his voice changed gear from one of anger to one so sultry you can forecast rain for the next two days.
He kisses your clit softly and slowly with his petal-soft lips. The lewd sounds of his mouth combined with your wetness elicit tiny whines from your lips, creating a symphony of want and distress. It's an ennui unlike any other you've ever known, a dizzying combination of pleasure and agony that leaves you wanting more.
Heeseung's lips dip lower, leaving a trail of fire in their wake as he explores every inch of your quivering flesh. He revels in the power he holds over you, relishing in the way your body responds to his touch.
"You want more, don’t you?" Heeseung's voice is a low murmur against your skin as he continues his tormenting actions. Each kiss, each caress sends ripples of sensation through you, building the tension to unbearable heights.
Before you can render yourself to say anything, he delves back in, his tongue now swirling in your hole, like he’s digging for treasure. You grasp desperately at the sheets beneath you, your nails digging into the fabric as you surrender yourself to the overwhelming ecstasy of his touch. 
What doesn’t help is when you look down at him and see him smirking up at you, rubbing his nose against your clit. It’s enough to make your eyes roll back and your legs seize up.
“Oh god, Heeseung..." you moan, the words escaping your lips in a breathless whisper as pleasure washes over you in waves.
He draws back, his eyes ablaze with raw desire, "That's right, baby," he growls, his voice dripping with dominance. "I am your God now."
As you close your eyes, you suddenly feel two of his fingers delving into you, the sensation causing your back to arch, thus, pushing your heat further into his face. Everything you are experiencing right now is so overwhelming, there is no let-up and you think this is both the most painful and best you have ever felt.
Heeseung’s concentration is solely on you cumming undone, wanting only to see your face when you are overcome with bliss. He has had to spend 6 weeks or so listening to his brothers talk about how beautiful and ethereal you look as the whites of your eyes take over; now it’s his turn.
Curling his fingers inside you, he beckons your orgasm forward, pushing against the spongy flesh of your walls, his middle digit hitting deliciously against a soft spot while he flicks his tongue over your bud. You wriggle beneath him, soft moans escaping your lips as you feel your tummy coil.
Heeseung's efforts are rewarded as your body responds to his touch, pleasure building to a crescendo until it explodes within you. With a crying scream, you call out his name, your thighs instinctively clamping around his head as you ride the waves of ecstasy crashing over you.
Your body arches, seeking both escape from his relentless touch and yet craving more of the intoxicating sensation he provides. In that moment of release, you are utterly and completely lost to him, surrendering yourself to the overwhelming pleasure he elicits from you.
Out of every orgasm you’ve had, this is the one that has rendered you completely dumb, incapable of doing anything more than panting and twitching.
But Heeseung doesn't grant you a moment to catch your breath. Even as your body shudders with the aftershocks of your climax, he commands you, his voice laced with authority. "Sit up," he orders, his tone brooking no argument as he guides you into a sitting position, his hand gripped tight in your hair as he yanks you forward. The air crackles with anticipation as you have no choice but to comply, “Strip me, baby.”
Without a second thought, you mindlessly rise to your feet, your fingers fumbling eagerly with the hem of Heeseung's loose white t-shirt. In one swift motion, you pull it over his head and toss it aside, your gaze hungrily tracing the contours of his bare chest. You want nothing more than to touch him, to caress his delicate skin with your hands, but you’re scared it’ll temper him into ripping all of this away from you.
Returning to sit on the bed with renewed enthusiasm, you focus your attention on his baggy grey joggers, swiftly untying the strings and pulling them down to reveal his naked form beneath. Your breath catches in your throat at the sight of his arousal, his impressive length standing semi-hard before you.
Without hesitation, you reach out and grasp his cock, feeling the heat of his faux skin beneath your fingertips. With a sense of urgency, you press your lips to his flushed tip, desperate to taste him before he can deny you the pleasure.
You lick at his shaft like he’s a frozen popsicle on a swarming hot summer day, your need driving your hurry as you coat him in saliva. The more you lick, the harder he gets and his throat has to hold back groans.
Heeseung's initial instinct is to reprimand you for your boldness, for daring to take control in such a way, but unlike Jongseong, he has little self-control, the pleasure he’s feeling as your mouth envelopes him fully is more than enough cause to let you continue. 
As his mouth relaxes and his eyes screw shut, you take advantage of the opportunity to explore him further, dropping your head to focus on his balls. The sensation is amazing, sending pleasure-filled sparks through his body as he surrenders part of himself to you. 
You’re so drunk on his cock right now that you don’t even care how desperate you look, you just need him in every way possible. If he asked, you would probably fuck him in his demon form;  as long as you could taste him on your tongue, that is all that matters.
Heeseung pushes your head back abruptly, his fingernails digging deep into your scalp, causing a disgruntled whine to fall from your mouth. 
The throbbing between your legs beats loudly in your eardrums as you look up and see his eyes, that same red flickering behind his pupils except this time, they swirl with a deep black cloud. You can tell he’s aching to be released from the confines of the doll suit, to break free and absolutely devour you in his true form. 
You should feel scared, petrified even, yet you only long for him more.
“You’ll never make it to heaven with a tongue like that, Baby.” 
His words, spoken with a hint of warning, only serve to fuel the fire burning within you, "What makes you think I want to go to heaven?" you retort, your voice dripping with desire and defiance.
With a sly smirk, Heeseung leans in closer, sending shivers down your spine, "Maybe you prefer the flames of hell," he murmurs, his tone laced with dark promise, "And I'll be more than happy to escort you there myself."
Heeseung's hand grips your hair with a firmness that borders on possessive. He then thrusts his cock into your mouth with commanding force, the sudden intrusion eliciting a gasp of surprise from you, causing you to choke slightly.
But that doesn’t stop him, instead, he just continues to batter your throat with his length brutally, each punch of his hips only further bruising your oesophagus. Tears well up in your eyes as you struggle to breathe. Yet, why do you love it? The feeling of your world almost going black, the way your body tightens around nothing but the desire to breathe, it’s deadly but you couldn’t be more alive.
Feeling you splurt out tiny breathes around his dick as you gasp for air, Heeseung pulls your head back, letting oxygen breathe back into your lungs.
He takes the moment to admire you; your hair tousled in his hands, your mascara smudging slightly around your eyes, and the spit mixed with some beads of his precum sliding slowly down your chin. You’re angelic, demonic, and everything he could ever want right now.
You’re so horny that not having his cock filling up one of your holes is leaving you whimpering, tears forming in your eyes - not from pain but need. You need to feel him in some way, you are starving for him, and one more second without tasting him might send you into madness.
And Heeseung knows it, he can hear your greatest, deepest desires after all. The thought of you under his spell without him using a single persuasive tactic is euphoric to him. Through the years, Soonyeol has grown accustomed to him, expecting his demanding nature but never truly worshipping him the way he wants; not the way you are right now.
This might only be for tonight but he will try and make it last an eternity.
Huffing out in frustration, you grow tired of waiting for Heeseung to make his move, opting instead to brush your face across his throbbing cock. The sensation of his velvety shaft against your cheeks is phenomenal, the need for contact driving you to this demoralising state. 
Closing your eyes, you relish in the tactile sensation, savouring the moment of intimacy as you slap his cock against your cheek and mouth. The hunger within you demands satisfaction, and you're willing to take whatever scraps of pleasure you can get, even if it's just the simple touch of his arousal against your skin.
“You’re so fucking filthy, baby,” he growls, his eyes blown in ecstasy while he watches you lather yourself with his member, “Are you that much of a cockslut?”
Absentmindedly you nod, owning up to the degrading nickname because, at the end of the day, that is exactly what you are right now; a cockslut, an ever-needing, desperate cockslut for none other than the high-ranking Prince of Hell.
Nudging your nose with his tip, you beg him like a dog to let go of your hair and stuff your mouth full once again. The mewls leaving your mouth flood Heeseung’s ears and he understands that you’re too far gone to form a sentence, so he grants your wish and shoves himself back into you.
His hips buck forward with a fierce urgency that sends your head shaking with each forceful thrust. The intensity of his movements makes your eyes roll back, driving you deeper into a state of arousal as you struggle to keep up with his rhythm.
But with your mouth full, your pussy is feeling dangerously left out, your entire heat seeking some form of release. Without realising it, you start to hump the air, moving your hips as though you were grinding on his cock.
Heeseung's movements falter for a moment as he notices your struggle to find complete pleasure. With a low grow, he halts his thrusts, his gaze intense as he takes in your flushed cheeks and heaving chest.
“Look at you,” he points out, shaking his head in feigned disbelief, watching as your juices leak out your cunt, staining his sheets a darker shade.
Smirking, he places his foot on the edge of the bed, pressing ever so lightly onto your dripping heat. You gasp and pop off his cock, looking down as you see your way to much-needed relief. Heeseung steps on you roughly, offering you a sturdy anchor which you eagerly accept. Despite the pain as the ball of his foot presses against your clit, you push your body against it, relishing in the firmness of his sole against your skin; you’ll take any relief you can get.
Every movement sends a surge of electric pleasure coursing through you, the friction between your bodies. You grind against him with increasing intensity, your hips undulating in perfect rhythm with his foot as you chase after the elusive peak of ecstasy.
“Keep sucking it or I’ll take it away,” he warns, tapping his cock on your gaped mouth
The chilling warning from Heeseung serves as a reminder of the balance between pleasure and punishment. Taking his cock back into your mouth with newfound vitality, you return to your task with a sense of urgency. The taste of him is intoxicating, fueling your urge to please him and avoid the consequences of disobedience. You do not want him to take anything away from you.
He moves in tandem with your hips, bringing you closer and closer to the edge as you fuck yourself shamelessly on his foot as if you were a wanton whore in heat. Your hands gripping his leg for more leverage, seeking another release as fast as possible.
Humming around his length in a high-pitched cry, you climax violently, your impulse to thrust forward only shoving his cock farther into your throat, stretching it wide in ways you don't believe is humanly possible. 
"Fuck-" Heeseung groans, the sound raw as he releases his thick ropes of cum down your throat, your climax setting off a chain reaction. His mouth hangs wide open as his throbbing shaft finds home in your canal, his eyebrows furrowed together as he loses himself. He can’t help but think what your perfect little pussy feels like as you cum, how it would squeeze him tighter than your throat can.
You are swimming in a pool of pure fire as you lose yourself to the engulfing of pleasure, riding his foot through your climax while swallowing his seed. This is a feeling you will never experience with any other man and you know now what he meant when he said you would never have looked at the others if he had his way with you first.
When both of your minds clear and your lungs are screaming out for oxygen, you pop off his cock, giving it an adoring kiss as a thank you for what has just happened and what it is about to do to you.
Looking down at you, Heeseung marvels at your display of gratitude, wishing every human was as worshipful. 
“I’d love to rip that soul from your body and stuff you in a doll suit so I can fuck you forever.”
His admission catches you both off guard, the silence of the afternoon lying dormant around the room. Did he mean that? Did he want to take your soul and keep you? It’s plausible considering his history but to hear it being said about you makes your blood run cold.
But at this moment, if he asked you to let him in and take you, you might just let him - or maybe it was the emptiness of your cunt that was talking.
“I don’t need to be a doll to fuck until the moon shines and the sunrises,” you whisper, your lust completely taking over your body. The once timid and unsure version of yourself has faded into oblivion, replaced by someone bold, relentless, and consumed by the craving to be stuffed with his cock.
He audibly groans, hearing how keen you are for him to devour you, not even put off by his threatening admission just moments earlier. Rolling his eyes to the back of his head and shaking his thoughts, Heeseung lifts your chin and pulls on your bottom lip, staring at you as he figures out exactly how he wants you. He swipes his tongue along the corner of his mouth, “I’m going to hold you to that, baby. Get on all fours,” he instructs.
Doing as he says, you turn around and drop to your hands and knees, offering yourself up to him as your heart pounds in your chest in exhilaration. You wiggle your ass a bit, hoping he'll take the hint and dive in, fucking you as hard and fast as he so wishes. 
Your ass is so perfect and plump he can’t help but grab at it, using his strong hands to knead your cheeks, pressing and pulling them apart as he takes quick glances at both of your holes. He wishes he had two cocks just to utterly destroy you with, each of your entrances filled with him as he pounds into you. Unfortunately, he only has one right now and he knows it’s your cunt that needs him the most, so he’ll save that idea for another time.
Grasping his cock, he slides it up and down your ass, shallowly tapping it to get him hard again, but with the way you’re already grasping the sheets in anticipation and your cunt is soaked with need, it doesn’t take him long. Heeseung strokes himself a couple of times before resting his tip at your gaping heat, the bell turning rosé as it pushes just slightly into you.
It's agonising, the way he waits there as though he's not equally consumed by the thought of rocking your world. He's deliberately drawing it out, savouring the anticipation, revelling in the sweet sound of your pleas, knowing that your cries for him are his ultimate desire fulfilled.
"Please, Heeseung," you whimper, arching your body towards him, desperate for the connection, but he always stays just out of reach, teasingly withholding what you crave.
You groan in frustration, your need for him becoming almost unbearable. He's in control, and you can't help but revel in the way he toys with you, pushing you to the brink of madness with his tantalising touch.
But there is only so much a girl can take, so with a resolute sparkle in your eyes, you make it clear that you will not be denied any longer. Ignoring his playful taunting, you reach between your bodies and direct his hardness to the entrance of your smooth heat. Swiftly, you impale yourself on him, a moan escaping your lips as you take him deep inside.
Heeseung's eyes widen in surprise, momentarily stunned by your boldness, but it's only for a minute before a wicked grin spreads across his face. You are so much more than he could have ever imagined.
Slapping your ass harshly, he hopes to still you but it only makes you rock onto him faster. You set a punishing pace, riding him with abandon, lost in the ecstasy of finally having him where you want him. 
Again, he crashes his hand painfully against your cheek but you won’t stop, you can’t, his dick is so delicious as it sucks into your cunt. Rapidly, he hits you, one, two, three, four, all in quick strikes and all you can do is clench your pussy around him and moan, picking up your pace.
“I can’t even punish you because you love it,” he notes, leaning back to observe you in awe, loving how your body is starting to flush with sweat as you work overtime to take what you need from him. 
“Fuck I wish you could see how pathetic you look right now.”
Gripping the sheets beneath you, your knuckles turn white as your chest tightens. The angle of his cock is hitting you so deliciously that you can’t even breathe properly or register a word he’s saying. All you heard was ‘pathetic’ and you agree with him because that’s how you’re backing yourself onto his long shaft.
Heeseung watches you in amazement, his own desire growing as he observes your relentless determination. "You love it, don't you?" he remarks, his voice laced with true admiration. He lets you have a few more moments of fun, clasping his hands at the back of his neck and pulling down, watching you with dangerous eyes. With the way your walls are closing in, he knows you’re close. “Tell me you love my cock.”
You nod, burying your face into the sheets as your coil threatens to snap, the harsh rhythm you set for yourself is faltering slightly as you reach your next climax. But when you don’t answer him and stroke his ego, it snaps Heeseung back into his domineering state. 
Roughly bunching up your hair, he pulls your face from the bed and leans into your ear, his chest laid flat against your back, “Fucking answer me when I speak to you. Tell me you fucking love it,” he growls out his demands, ripping some of your hair from their roots.
Your breath catches in your throat as his grip tightens, a mixture of pain and pleasure coursing through you. With a whimper, you finally concede, unable to resist his commanding presence any longer. "I love it," you gasp, your voice strained with need as you surrender to his dominance. "I love your cock so fucking much!"
A satisfied smirk spreads across Heeseung's lips as he releases your hair, his fingers trailing down your spine in a possessive caress, "That's what I thought," he murmurs, his voice sneering before pushing your head into the mattress.
From that moment on, the dynamic shifts entirely. Heeseung takes control with ruthless determination, smothering your face into the softness of the bedsheets. His strength overwhelms you as he holds you firmly in place, your features pressed into the fabric until you know you'll emerge from this session with a pounding headache.
Your muffled protests are lost in the sheets as Heeseung continues to assert his dominance, his grip unyielding. He piledrives into you, his foot now on the edge of the bed to give him more stability. His skin is furiously slapping against yours as he takes you brutally from behind.
"You wanted this, remember? Now, let me show you who's in charge."
Releasing your head, Heeseung grants you a moment to gulp in air, your chest heaving as you crave the sweet relief of oxygen. But his attention swiftly shifts, his hands now gripping your hips with a firmness that promises bruises, yet you welcome it eagerly. With each powerful thrust, he plunges deeper into you, his sizable cock filling you to the brim with each relentless motion.
With hunger burning in his eyes, Heeseung unleashes his pent-up desire upon you, each thrust a savage declaration of his dominance. The weight of his body presses you into the mattress, his strength undeniable as he takes complete control.
His fingers dig into the soft flesh of your hips, leaving faint crescent-shaped marks in their wake, tangible evidence of his possession. Every time he thrusts, he claims you anew, his relentless rhythm driving you to the edge of sanity and pleasure.
The sound of your mingled moans fills the air, a symphony of ecstasy and pain as he pushes you to the brink and pulls you back again. Your senses are overwhelmed by the scent of sweat and sex, the slick friction of your bodies moving together in perfect synchrony. 
You’ve got a pussy that could even make demons pray, Heeseung thinks to himself. He could watch you all day, how your cunt swallows him like its sole purpose was to please his cock. But as much as he likes the shape of your body as he takes you from behind, he longs to see that pretty face of yours when you cum.
Heeseung flips you onto your back, pinning you beneath him as he continues to ravish you with unrestrained passion, his hands pressing hard on your waist. Your head spins as the world shifts, your back now pressed firmly against the mattress, every inch of your skin tingling with anticipation.
His eyes fixate on your bouncing tits, a wolfish grin spreading across his lips as he watches them with rapt attention. His tongue darts out to wet his lips, instinct taking over as he becomes entranced by the sight of your pretty mounds. 
"You're so fucking gorgeous,” his voice husky with desire as he reaches out to caress your soft skin, his touch setting your nerves ablaze with longing. He seems so gentle right now, like the demon inside him has subsided. You cherish the tiny glimpses of his vulnerability, knowing they come few and far between.
The tender moment doesn’t last long though as he quickens his pace once more, the bed beneath you squeaking and whimpering along with you. 
Suddenly, his hand finds its way between your legs, his fingers deftly seeking out your clit. A sharp gasp escapes your lips as pleasure shoots through you, but before you can protest, his touch becomes too much, too overwhelming.
"It's too much," you whimper, trying to push his hand away, but he only presses harder, his grip unyielding. "Please, Heeseung, it's too-"
"Shut up," he interrupts, his voice firm and devilish as he continues to play with you, driving you closer to the edge with each relentless stroke. "You love it, and you know it."
And you do, you love it so much more than you can even describe. Your body stiffens as you feel yourself about to experience your nth orgasm. Honestly, you’ve lost track of how many it is now, the whole night blending into one big bout of pleasure.
You arch your back as his bell strokes right along your soft spot, causing a wave of ecstasy to wash over you, your mouth opens as you let out an earth-shattering cry, “Holy fuck, Heeseung!” 
But he shows no signs of slowing down, his movements becoming even more relentless as he drives you closer and closer to the edge. And then, with a primal roar, you feel it - the sudden, intense release as pleasure explodes within you, shooting through your body like a bolt of lightning.
Heeseung thinks, no, he knows this is what heaven looks like, it has to be; the way your body opens up as wide as it can go, laying yourself bare like this while chanting a ritual of profanities. You look like you’re being exorcised and it’s so fucking hot to him.
What he takes a minute to notice though, is how his stomach and arm are being covered in your release, pouring out of you so perfectly as you bathe him in your essence. You’re squirting for him. 
Smirking, he doesn’t let up the flicks to your clit or the pointed thrusts into your pussy, he wants to see how long this can last.
As you thrash beneath him, Heeseung lifts your hips higher with his left arm, driving into you with even greater force, his movements relentless as he seeks to elicit every last drop of pleasure from you. With each thrust, your juices flow even more freely, coating him in a slick sheen of your arousal.
"Holy hell, Baby," he breathes, a smirk playing on his lips as he watches you squirm beneath him. "Look at you baptising me."
He chuckles to himself, the sound a mix of amusement and arousal as he revels in the sensation of being drenched in your ecstasy. If this was the holy water people spoke about, he might just turn up to church every Sunday.
The tears falling from your eyes at the overstimulation tell him it’s time to drive it home, to finally let go and satisfy his own needs once again. Slowly, he shifts his weight, positioning himself for the final act of surrender. With each deliberate movement, he inches closer to the edge, his desire burning fiercely as he prepares to claim what is rightfully his.
Entering you once more, he relishes in the sensation of your heat enveloping him, drawing him deeper into the abyss of pleasure. Each thrust brings him closer to the brink, his senses ablaze, and just like that, he is cumming inside of you, shooting ropes of his white seed deep into your womb.
You open your eyes to catch a glimpse of him, unable to get a good visual last time with his cock stuffed deep into your throat. You expect to see his vulnerability as with climaxes comes a complete lack of control, but you see something far different to your imagination.
His eyes are clouded with red, like he’s rolling his pupils so far back that you’re looking straight into his demon entity, like you can see the Prince of Hell in his true form. In some sick way, you don’t think he has looked more beautiful. He moans loudly but his voice is deeper, more threatening than usual, yet you find yourself reaching for his face, his allure drawing you in further than ever before.
His aura is dark and cloying, yet there's a slight change within him the second your fingertips brush his face. As if your touch can soothe the storm within him, the whirling black and crimson cloud that envelops him appears to diminish. He closes his eyes as he gives in to the calming effect of your touch.
Never before in his life has he met someone who could have such an effect on him. Although he is in control at this very moment, he is well aware that your power could render him defenceless with just a single gesture.
Guiding him, you pull his face down to you as you kiss him softly, breathing your life into him gently which he gladly accepts. As the kiss deepens, he shifts you gently, urging you to rest your head on his pillow, eliciting a soft sigh from you as you comply, sinking into the comfort of the mattress beneath you. He continues to explore your lips with a playful urgency, teasing you as you chase his elusive kisses.
“Heeseung-” you whine out but it barely makes audio waves as the fucking your throat received and the screams that ripped from your chest make it hard to talk.
Bringing his hand up to your throat, he applies gentle pressure, his touch like a soothing balm against the burning sensation. With each stroke of his fingers, the tension in your voice box begins to ease, the discomfort gradually fading away beneath his tender ministrations.
Heeseung meets your gaze with a fond intensity, sliding his cock out slowly as he shifts his body to create a space for you to lay your head on his chest. His arms wrap securely around you and he cradles you close, the steady rhythm of your heartbeat returning. 
"If you want this life," he starts, his stare fixed on you, "Let me give it to you." He promises you the future your spirit so desperately desires with a voice that is both powerful and supple, promising support and unfaltering devotion.
There's a part of you that yearns to leap up and accept, drawn to the allure of the life he promises. Yet, you can hear a distant warning of whispers in the recesses of your mind, reminding you of the consequences of such a choice. You can't ignore the lessons learned from Soonyeol's fate, knowing that trading one form of captivity for another may not be the answer. She is happy right now but for how long could she possibly stay that way?
"Y/N?" Jaeyun's voice breaks through the haze, its urgency slicing through the intimate moment with Heeseung. It reverberates down the halls, each bounce signalling his approach, yet the vastness of the mansion keeps him at a distance, prolonging the inevitable interruption.
You tear yourself away from Heeseung’s grip, sitting up as you dare not to look at him, “I can’t have this life, Heeseung. This belongs to Soonyeol.”
As you move to get up and dress, Heeseung grips your face, forcing you to meet his gaze. His eyes bore into yours, studying you with an intensity that leaves your soul feeling exposed, laid bare before him.
"Say the word and she's gone, baby," he murmurs, his voice low and determined. The fondness and devotion he once held for his minder seem to fade into the background as he tries to persuade you to stay.
Your eyes widen in disbelief at his implication; how could he suggest getting rid of Soonyeol so easily, especially someone who gave their soul to him? While he may believe it's what you want to hear, his words only serve to deepen your doubts about his loyalty and commitment. If he can toss her aside, how quickly will it take him to move on from you?
Pulling his hand from your face, you hold it against your chest, “You told me you don’t break your promises, Heeseung,” you gently confront him. Yet, as you look into his eyes, you see sincerity within them, making you question whether he means his words to you.
“Y/N? Where are you?” Jaeyun shouts once again, panic in his vocals.
“Let me give you your desires,” Heeseung’s lips upturn as he watches your brain fight itself between yielding and defying your urges.
“Y/N? Can you answer me?”
“Come on, Y/N, say it. Tell me you want this.”
“Please answer me!”
Your body instinctively leans into Heeseung's touch, drawn in by the intensity of his gaze as he strokes your cheek with a gentle caress. It's as if you're caught in a trance, captivated by the magnetic pull of his presence.
But even as you feel yourself slipping under his spell, the echo of Jaeyun's pleas reverberates in your mind and with a jolt, you force yourself to pull away from the Prince's enchanting hold, breaking free from the spell he's woven around you.
“I don’t want this,” you push Heeseung away, your heart beating quickly as you realise what you have almost done, the distance from his touch giving you a sense of clarity, dispelling the fog of desire that clouded your judgement. “This is Soonyeol’s life, not mine. I won’t trade in one hell for another.”
Heeseung's eyes flash with anger for a fleeting moment, a storm brewing behind his gaze. But just as quickly as it comes, he reigns in his emotions, the tempest within him subsiding as he regains his composure. 
“Fine. Don’t stay. But let me make these two weeks you have left count,” his signature smug expression returns as though you hadn’t seen the soul behind the demon a mere 10 minutes ago.
_____
Packing your bag, a heavy weight settles over you, dragging you down as you come to terms with the reality that this is the end. Two months of fear, lust, adoration, and anxiety swirl together in a tumultuous cocktail of emotions, each one vying for dominance as you prepare to bid farewell to it all.
With each item you place into your bag, it’s as if you’re emptying a foreign version of yourself. You know when you go home you’ll wear these same clothes and brush your hair with the same bristles, but it won’t be you anymore.
Maybe you should have taken Heeseung up on his offer.
Or perhaps this is the start of a new chapter for you. This new identity you feel surging inside your veins might help you navigate the big bad world a little easier. 
Feeling a pair of arms encircle you from behind, you instinctively lean into Jaeyun's embrace, his presence offering a sense of solace amidst the uncertainty. His chin rests on your shoulder, his nose tickling the skin of your neck as he nuzzles closer, seeking comfort in your embrace.
"Please don't go, Y/N. I need you," he whispers, his voice trembling with emotion. The vulnerability in his words pierces through your own turmoil, reminding you of the depth of his feelings and the pain of letting go.
At that moment, as you stand entwined together, you both understand the weight of the connection that binds you. It's more than just the physical intimacy you've shared; it's a bond forged throughout your two months here. Everyone can see it, feel it - the undeniable truth that your relationship transcends mere physical attraction.
But you need to let him go.
"You don't need me, Baby doll," you murmur softly, your voice tinged with resignation. "You've got Soonyeol. She will look after you just like before."
As the words leave your lips, a sorrowful cloud settles over you, the reality of your impending departure sinking in. Despite the pain of leaving Jaeyun behind, you find solace in the knowledge that he won't be alone, that someone will be there to care for him in your absence.
But even as you try to reassure him, a part of you can't shake the feeling of loss that grips your heart. Though Soonyeol may provide comfort and support, you know that your absence will leave a void that can't be easily filled.
Sunghoon hugs you both from the side, his sudden presence a comfort. Even after you discovered that he was a demon, you knew deep down he wasn’t a terrible soul, he was just trapped in bad circumstances, forced to live a life he hated. There is evil within him, that much is true, but he wouldn’t use it haphazardly or indiscriminately.
“I’ll miss you too, baby girl. More than I think I’d like to admit,” he confesses, squeezing you and Jaeyun tight in his arms.
“Y/N, can I speak to you for a moment?” Jongseong’s voice rings loud in your temporary room, causing you and your boys to break apart. Tenderly kissing each of them goodbye, they gracefully exit the room, leaving you alone with Jongseong, granting you both the privacy needed for your conversation.
"What's up? Gonna miss me?" you tease, playfully punching Jongseong's shoulder.
Jongseong chuckles, a hint of sadness in his eyes as he nods. "More than you'll know...but I need to tell you something."
The playful banter fades away, replaced by a solemn atmosphere that settles between you. The air grows heavy with anticipation as you wait for Jongseong to speak, sensing that whatever he has to say is of great importance.
Taking a deep breath, Jongseong meets your gaze with a mix of concern and determination. "Y/N, I need you to do something for me," he begins, his voice steady despite the weight of his request.
"What is it?" you inquire, your curiosity piqued by the seriousness in his tone.
Jongseong hesitates for a moment before speaking, his words measured and deliberate. "I need you to talk to Heeseung," he says, his expression earnest, "Ask him to untether Jaeyun from Soonyeol."
“What? Why?”
“Heeseung told you Jaeyun’s story, right? How he was supposed to be a guardian?” Jongseong's eyebrows raise expectantly, his gaze searching your face for understanding. Slowly, you nod, though confusion clouds your features. Sighing, Jongseong clasps his hands together as he continues, “I think…somehow…he is supposed to be your guide, your guardian angel.”
Jaeyun? Your guardian angel? A mighty laugh leaves your lips as you think he’s pulling some sick joke, but he is not laughing, not even a hint of mischief playing around on his expression. He is deadly serious here.
“Wait…what? But aren’t guardian angels assigned at like, birth or something?” you question, not wrapping your mind around the idea just yet. 
Jongseong nods thoughtfully, his expression grave. "Yes, traditionally, that's how it works," he replies, his tone tinged with uncertainty, "But sometimes, fate has a way of... rearranging things. Guardian angels can also be soulmates in the realm of living.”
You lean back, trying to process this new information. "So, you’re now telling me that Jaeyun is my soulmate? So which is he?"
“Well, when he died it was sudden and tragic, no one saw it coming. It wasn’t planned the way God intended and that day you lost your soulmate. But you were meant to gain your angel that day…until Heeseung pulled him away.”
The weight of Jongseong's words hangs heavily in the air, sinking deep into your consciousness. A sense of disbelief washes over you as you try to comprehend the implications of his revelation. Jaeyun, your soulmate? The idea seems both surreal and profound, challenging everything you thought you knew about love and destiny.
There is no denying the connection you have but it all seems more outlandish than the library having a fire telephone to ring hell up and have a gab.
Jongseong feels your body overcoming with contemplation and questioning his words, so he jumps in. “All the signs are there, Princess. The connection you both have, how you can feel one another's emotions, Jaeyun has even been telling me he feels like there is a string pulling him to you.”
“A string?”
"Mhm, It is what binds a guardian angel to their human, and when you leave, it will shatter, just like your heart, and you will both be in such agony that it will swallow you whole," he says solemnly, his voice tinted with his personal experiences, "Trust me, I know it better than anyone."
Jongseong and Soonyeol…their string must have been broken once he was banished from being her guide. As you look at the sadness etched across his face, you know you never want to experience the pain they both must have felt.
“I don’t want to let him go, but he belongs here with Soonyeol. Heeseung told me how she needed him too,” you whisper, your voice barely above a murmur as you confess your inner anguish.
He feels your pain and inwardly cries for you. Gently, he uses two of his fingers to lift your chin, his eyes boring into yours as he pleads with you. “YOU need him, Sweetheart, just like he needs you. Please, grant me permission to speak to Heeseung on your behalf, I’ll sort something out with him, okay?”
His words resonate deep within you, stirring a sense of hope amidst the despair. Maybe Jongseong could convince Heeseung somehow. Perhaps your time spent with Heeseung over the past two weeks would count for something. After all, there had been moments of connection and understanding between you, moments that hinted at a deeper bond than he would probably like to admit.
But then doubt creeps in. Would Heeseung truly consider your feelings in his decision? Or would he give you the same ultimatum he had given before - stay and he would rid this house and the boys of Soonyeol, without a second thought?
You suppose you have to try, right?
“Talk to him, but only if Jaeyun wants to, this is his decision too.”
_____
As the sound of Soonyeol’s car driving up the gravel path reaches your ears, it feels like her tyres are rolling over your heart. Standing with your bags packed, you glance at the boys, each of them sitting in their dining room seats, ready to take on their doll personas once again. Each of their gazes says something different, but sorrow is evident.
“I’ll miss you guys,” you pout, unable to suppress the sadness that tugs at your heartstrings. Fiddling with the hem of your t-shirt, you try to mask the ache of impending departure with a feeble attempt at a smile. But the weight of the moment looms, casting a shadow over the room as you prepare to say goodbye to the home and the family you've come to cherish.
“We’ll miss you too, baby girl,” Sunghoon smiles softly, his hand reaching out to grasp yours one last time, a silent reassurance amidst the impending farewell.
Jaeyun's expression is heavy with heartache, his eyes pleading with you to stay, but you can't bear to meet his gaze. You know that Jongseong's talk with Heeseung didn't go as hoped, and the disappointment hangs thick in the air, making your departure that much more difficult.
Suddenly, Jaeyun stands up, his movements swift as he storms over to you. Without a word, he pulls you into a passionate kiss, his hands cradling your cheeks as he pours all his love and longing into the embrace. In that fleeting moment, time seems to stand still, the world falling away as you lose yourself in the warmth of his touch, savouring the taste of his lips against yours.
You hug him tightly, forcing the lump in your throat to retreat back to your stomach, cherishing this last moment.
“Jaeyun, get back in your seat, Soonyeol will be here any minute,” Heeseung warns, his voice pulling you both from your moment. 
As Jaeyun's lips leave yours, the air between you crackles with unspoken emotions. His stare is intense, searching yours for any way he can stay with you. But you can only offer him a small, sad smile, knowing that your time together is slipping away with each passing second.
The thing that hurts the most is that Jaeyun has no clue that he is your soulmate or was supposed to be your guardian angel, he just thinks he’s losing your love when in fact, he’s losing part of his soul that you’ll take with you.
“I gave you my number, yeah? Give me a call anytime you can,” you mutter into his lips, finally stepping back to let him go back to the life he knows.
Within a second of Jaeyun taking his place, Soonyeol comes through the door, a gleeful smile plastered on her face as he looks straight at her dolls. It’s evident that she’s missed them but then again, who wouldn’t? You know as soon as you leave here you’re going to have a hole in your heart, pieces of it left with each one of them - even Heeseung.
Turning, she looks at you sceptically, noting the off atmosphere in the room but you don’t allow her a second to ponder it, interjecting as she goes to speak. “So, Soonyeol, how was your trip?”
“Oh, it was excellent! Just a few bits and bobs to tidy up.” She avoids divulging your curiosity. It’s clear her business was either extremely mundane to the point that there was nothing to tell you about, or that she is still harbouring a secret from you. To be honest, you think you’re done snooping and uncovering secrets for the rest of your life.
Ignorance might just be bliss.
She rummages her tote bag in search of a brown envelope, which she gladly hands you, “Here is everything, I counted it 5 times so it should be right,” you marvel at the wad of cash in your hand. Never in your life have you seen this much money in one go, it’s truly amazing. “How were my boys? I hope they didn’t cause too much trouble.”
“Like they were never here,” you lie, smiling softly which eases Soonyeol’s mind.
“Thank you so much, Y/N. I can tell you’ve done a wonderful job here, I can’t thank you enough!” she beams as she looks longingly into Heeseung’s eyes. There is a spark of adoration between them that makes you smile, although you do want to warn her that he would have literally killed her if you asked him to.
Again, ignorance is bliss.
Gathering your belongings, you give the dolls one last look over, feeling a pang of sadness at the thought of leaving them behind. With a heavy sigh, you turn to Soonyeol, offering her a small, grateful smile.
"It was a pleasure, Soonyeol. Thank you for trusting me enough to look after them and this house," you say, your voice overcome with sincerity.
Soonyeol returns your smile, her expression warm and genuine. "If I ever need anyone again, you will be first on my call list," she replies, her words carrying a sense of appreciation for your dedication.
You bid farewell to the house and the memories it holds as you trudge through the long hallways. You can't help but feel a sense of gratitude for the experiences you've shared and the bonds you've formed. You’ll miss them all so dearly that it hurts you to even turn your back on them, but you know it’s for the best.
Carting your suitcase along the gravel, you catch sight of your car sitting patiently, a thin layer of dust coating its surface from the weeks it's spent waiting for your return. You had given up on cleaning it a while ago, unable to bear the reminders that your departure was imminent.
With a heavy heart, you click the boot open and shove your suitcase inside, the action punctuated by the force with which you slam it shut. Each motion is filled with a mix of sadness and frustration, emotions that have been simmering beneath the surface.
“Y/N, wait!” The familiar voice cuts through the air, causing your heart to skip a beat. Turning around, you're met with a sight that fills you with both hope and trepidation. 
Your heart quickens in your chest as you spot Jaeyun darting towards you, his face a blend of determination and urgency. Without hesitation, he closes the distance between you in a few rapid strides, his fingers reaching out to ensnare yours.
In an instant, he envelops you in his embrace, his lips descending upon yours in a sudden, fervent kiss. Time appears to halt as the world fades into the background, leaving only the two of you entwined in a whirlwind of emotion.
The kiss is a whirlwind of emotion, a testament to the depth of your connection, leaving you both breathless and exhilarated.
As you pull away, a sense of urgency floods through you, prompting you to glance back at the house with a surge of panic. "Jaeyun, go back inside. Soonyeol-"
But before you can finish, Jaeyun interrupts with a bright smile, his arms still wrapped around you protectively, "I'm coming with you," he declares, punctuating his words with a gentle kiss on your nose.
Your eyes widen in disbelief, confusion swirling in your mind, "But I thought Heeseung said no?" you ask, searching Jaeyun's face for reassurance.
Jaeyun nods, holding you tight to him, “He said he was just waiting for Soonyeol, to ask if she would let me go and she said yes, can you believe it?” 
No. No, you really can’t.
Then again, you know from your time with Heeseung and the box of cherished memories between him and Soonyeol that he really does do everything for her. If she wanted to keep Jaeyun then Heeseung would never dream of cutting the tie between the younger and his minder. 
A wave of relief washes over you, mingled with a sense of wonder at the unexpected turn of events. In that moment, you realise that your happy ending isn't just a distant dream - it's within reach, waiting for you to seize it. 
Glancing back at the house, you spot the others standing at the door, their figures framed by the warm glow of the sun. Soonyeol stands among them, her expression a mix of fondness and understanding, a knowing grin playing at the corners of her lips as she waves you off. She doesn’t look upset at the boys for blowing the secret but rather happy that one of them found serenity with someone the way she has with this house, with the dolls.
Quite honestly, you thought she would have blown a gasket but she isn’t the evil overlord you pictured her to be, even after Heeseung’s story of how she just wanted away from her toxic family you thought she must be hiding something to go to such lengths; perhaps hurt them or worse. But she really is just a girl, looking to live a peaceful life with a family she chooses, not one picked for her by God.
It all makes sense, calling upon Heeseung, because she lost her faith in the divine. Even heaven banished Jongseong for being dedicated to his job which tore them apart, she just did what she had to do.
A pang of sadness washes over you as you realise you're leaving behind the friends who have become like family to you. Each of them holds a piece of your heart, and the thought of saying goodbye, tugs at your emotions.
But as you turn to face Jaeyun, his hand clasped firmly in yours and that puppy-like smile plastered on his face, a sense of peace settles over you. With him by your side, you know you'll be okay. 
Besides, who says you can’t pop back for a visit?
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bunnys-kisses · 3 months
Text
my woman
capt. john price
cw: ex husband!price, jealousy, possessive behaviour, breeding, dark-ish themes, baby trapping, dark!john, proceed with caution!!
bunny says: happy birthday to me <3
you couldn't take it anymore. the stress of his job, the lonely nights, the distance was all too much for you. it broke you honestly, you couldn't be that woman for him. the idea of him coming home in a box made you overwhelmed at times.
price understood, he didn't even try to push against the divorce. but that didn't mean that he left you alone. if anything he pushed himself further into your life. that charming smile and those blue eyes, his hearty laugh and his rumble of a voice.
"c'mon, love. who's been over?" he said while standing at your front door. he stood a good head over you, he was broad as well. his eyes were cold as he asked again, "who's been over, lovie?"
you swallowed, "my sister she came over to see how i was doin'. plus, we're not married anymore, i can have whoever i want over."
price looked at you, "i pay for this place, technically i can decide who comes in and who leaves." he brushed past you and walked into the flat. hands in his jeans as he looked around.
you knew you couldn't physically kick him out, it was like an ant pushing a boulder! you stayed far back from him with your arms crossed, "john, get out."
he peeked into the kitchen before he walked in and said, "don't think so, love. i have to make sure that my girl is behavin'." he opened the fridge and pulled out a carton of milk, "oat milk drinker, now?"
your throat tightened, "i had a friend over."
price looked at the carton, "must've been over a lot, or used a lot of milk." he shook the carton, "almost empty."
your stomach flipped. after your divorce you had met a lovely man who worked stable hours and had a winning smile. but price didn't need to know that.
"you bringin' men into my home, fuckin' them on sheets i bought. you whorin' yourself out now, love?" his voice was laced with venom as he put the carton down, "everything you are, i made. from your rank when you were servin' to the home you live in." he got closer to you.
you swallowed, "john, leave."
"no, no." he closed the gap between you two. he took you by the wrists and leaned in, "no woman of mine is gonna be a cheap fuckin' slag."
"i'm not your woman, your girl or your wife."
"then maybe i didn't fight hard enough to keep ya."
your stomach flipped once more. there was something about price that broke your resolve. even after all the pain and heartbreak, he was your husband. so when he kissed you, you didn't push him away.
he picked you up with relative ease, you wrapped your legs around his waist on instinct for fear that he'd drop you. he put you down with a bit of force onto the recliner he loved so.
your face felt heated as you were about to let your ex-husband fuck you.
"my girl on my chair." he chuckled. he remembered the nights where he'd have a beer and watch the football game while you were in between his legs like an obedient little puppy.
he watched you strip of your clothes, his larger hands helped you as you struggled to get out of your sweatpants. poor girl, always needs a mans help. price knew that your limp dicked new man couldn't help the way he could.
he loved the sight of your nude, all the curves and dips. the wetness of your cunt that gleamed in the light of the room. he got his cock out of his jeans and stroked it.
"remember this, love?" he smiled down at you, "i know you're pretty familiar with it." he chuckled, you spread your legs for him like a good wife. he reached over with his free hand and ruffled your hair.
"please, john." you moaned.
he chuckled, "impatient girl, bet ya touched yourself thinkin' of me and lied to your new man about it. bet ya told him that you were more than happy to suck his limp cock. nothin' like mine, eh?"
you looked at him, "there's nothing i could find or buy that felt like you."
he laughed, a full hearty laugh then met your gaze once more, "good." he said, "i'm glad i ruined that pussy of yours. because you're my wife and this is the only cock you'll need." then leaned over you and pushed his cock into you.
you choked out a gasp at the fullness you felt. you could feel it in your stomach. you gripped onto the armrests of the seat as you tried to regain the air in your lungs.
your pussy felt like heaven to him.
the sex was brutal, your sweaty back got stuck to the leather as he held your hips and battered your sweet cunt. he liked the idea that he ruined you for other men, that no one else could make you feel the way he did.
"do you see now." he said, "we're meant to be."
you looked away, "john, please." you felt the warmth pool in your gut. he took you by the jaw and pulled you into a kiss as he continued to move against you.
"you're my heart and soul, baby girl." his voice was low and erotic, "made just for me." he wanted to get it through to you that you were meant to be with him. arousal shot through him at the idea, the best way he could make sure that the two of you would be tied together.
it fueled him to push his cock as deep as it could go. his heavy balls hit against your ass as he fucked you without abandon. your sweet moans filled his head and he could feel his grey t-shirt grow hot with sweat.
he didn't worry, next round he'd get undressed fully. for now your sweet slick would ruin the denim of his jeans. he gazed at the expressions on your face as you closed your eyes.
"that's it."
"please, john. fuck, pull out." you whined.
"can't do that, love. you're keeping me in ya. you want this too. keep a little reminder on me in ya when you call that fuckin' prick of yours to break up."
"i'm not breaking up with him." you trembled in an attempt to gain some kind of control
he grabbed you by the hair and made you look at him. his chuckled lowly, "cute, love. but no, you're going to sit there with my cum in your cunt as you call that fuckin' prick to tell him to leave you alone. or better yet, you keep my cock nice and cozy inside ya when you call."
you swallowed and whimpered, "please, john."
he gave you a rough kiss on the cheek, his facial hair was scratchy against your soft, sweaty skin, "it's either that, or he won't be walkin' ever again. i'd suggest you take the more merciful option." he let go of your hair and quickened his pace.
you squeezed your eyes shut once more and it wasn't long before orgasm pulled you under. your slick cunt gripped his cock as the euphoria rushed through you.
price was pleased with himself as a pathetic noise left your lips. he gave a few more hearty thrusts before he finished. his noises were lower, darker and deeper than yours.
"good girl." he said, "lettin' your man do what needs to do to keep this together." he pushed strands of hair out of your face, his cock still hard in you, "see, you can listen. you can behave."
"john." you whined.
he patted your cheek lovingly, "shh, not now. let it happen." his voice was so calm and cool. the tonal whiplash made your head feel murky.
why did you leave him anyway?
he then grabbed you by the hair and brought you down onto the expensive carpet. he took off he shirt while you were on your shaky hands and knees. he knew your pulse was racing.
"don't worry baby girl." he said as he kissed your sweaty back, "just gotta go a few more times... until it takes."
-
while re-marriage wasn't common, being mrs. price was your rightful title. especially now that your little girl was born. price got you a nice house on a piece of land out in the country. you could raise your little family in peace.
"c'mon honey." you cooed at your toddler as she tried to stand on shaky legs, "go see daddy." there was such tenderness in your voice.
who would've thought a nice house and a cute little babe would've fixed ya right up!
price watched you try to teach your little girl how to walk on the grass. your hands held her smaller ones. price smiled at the rim of his teacup. for a moment he thought he lost you, but there's no worries now. you were his and next time he wouldn't let you leave. <3
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v3lary0ns · 11 days
Text
When the Light Shines Down
Modern Jacaerys Targaryen x fem!reader
(small snippet? football = soccer fo us american out there)
summary — With a recently broken heart, Jace has convinced himself that loving again is a death sentence. Then his mother hires a new babysitter for his little brothers and, bit by but, the light begins to shine for them.
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Jacaerys felt like the world sat on his shoulders—both literally and figuratively—as he jammed his key into the lock of his home and made his way inside. His football bag was heavy as he dumped it in the parlor and kicked off his shoes. His mind was a mess as he shuffled into the house with aching muscles and a possibly bruised rib. He tried to wipe the caked-on grime from his hair as he replayed all the ways today went wrong.
He had tried to keep things from blowing up in his face today by keeping his head down and shutting up. He hardly spoke to anyone—completely abnormal, he was a chatterbox on the best of days—and worked to keep his distance from Sara and her band of hooligans. He had just wanted one day where his breakup hadn’t been brought up. One fucking day, but she had searched him out while he was walking to practice and gotten to him like she always did.
He had a weakness for women who had shitty circumstances. She was his best friend's sister, a child of an affair, and he had found himself in a I can fix her mindset before the month was over. He spent almost two years gripping onto a relationship that was built on foundations of sand. She was jealous, controlling, and so good at crying when she wanted people to feel bad for her. He hated that it took him so long to realize their relationship was unhealthy. He hated that he had fallen in love with her before he realized.
Now he was stuck with the aftermath. An ex who was now desperate to get back together with him, bombarding him when he really didn’t need to be thinking about her words. He was upset with himself for thinking so intently about Sara and her desperation to get back together that he had screwed up in practice. His mind had been so consumed with the way she had gripped onto his shirt and kissed him like the world was ending, and the way he had let her, that he had missed a pass and tripped into the stands. Effectively fucking his ribs up. What sort of captain does that?
Gods, he had groaned, why does this have to be so hard?
Cregan had answered in his brusque bass voice with, Because you fell in love and now she misses someone loving her.
Now he was facing the consequences of thinking too hard during practice with the dull pain in his lung everytime he breathed. He turned as a door in the house opened somewhere, the giggling of his little brother catching his ears as he ran around. “Hey!” came a woman’s laugh, and his brow furrowed, it didn’t sound like his mom. “Come back here silly! You forgot your shirt!”
He made his way into the living room to see Joffrey jumping on the couch in his sleep pants, a wicked grin on his chubby cheeks. “You can’t catch me!” He laughs, bouncing from cushion to cushion. His curls were wet and messy and they dropped water on the cushions—he assumed the other two were asleep based on the fact they weren’t chasing Joff around—as he bounced with each giggle. “You can’t catch me miss!”
“You wanna bet, pipsqueak?” The voice was gentle, yet full of happiness and laughter, mirth covered by the boy's giggles. He couldn’t get a glimpse of you before you jump across the living room and almost tackle the little boy into the couch. Joff nearly screams as he laughs, and Jace watches as you begin to mercilessly tickle his brother. “What were you saying? I can't hear you!”
It was a struggle getting the boy into his fire themed sleep shirt but somehow, he watches as you manage to wrangle the most unruly of his brothers. Giggles and laughter chasing you the entire way as you finally lift him off the couch— seemingly much stronger than you look—and spin him in a circle. Eventually setting the boy down from your whirlwind.
Once Joff regains his balance he finally catches sight of his eldest brother. “Jay!” he yells, moving to dart into the older boy's arms. “I missed you!”
Jace hisses in pain for a moment as Joffrey rams his head straight into the rib he had busted. He slaps a smile onto his face instead and bends down to his brother's height. “Hey Joff, having fun?” There was just a small strain of pain in his voice; his brother was too excited to pick up on it.
“Mhm! We played dragons and had a yummy loaded potato soup for dinner, she had us play a cleaning game and gave us yummy food when we did good, and then she let me help her read Aegon and Viserys to sleep!” He grins, pointing over to you with a happy smile on his face. “She’s the coolest babysitter ever!”
With a grin he messed with Joffrey’s hair before looking up at you. He had expected someone… less? Someone who didn’t have pretty eyes and a gentle smile, hair perfectly framing your pretty face while it was disheveled and messy from hours of playing. Somehow, you wore an average shirt and busted up pants so well that he forgot they probably cost less than his shoes. There was no arrogant set to your face that most people around him seemed to have. Just eyes that gave way to a thousand stars and lips pressed with rose petals.
“Hi… you must be Jace.” You speak softly, and even your voice is gentle as a lover's caress. His throat seemed to close and his mouth dried as he looked up at you. Fucking hell, he thinks. His mind flips at the way your words were lilted and breathy, the way you said his name.
Your name came to his mind easily— he had seen you in the halls on campus, but never so close. He regretted never approaching you when he had the chance, now he was seeing you for the first time. While his heart laid amongst the barren wasteland locked up in his chest. The battlefield of his previous attempt at love left scarred across the insides of his ribs, like a beast clawing its way out. Fuck my life, he groans in his mind. “Yeah,” he chokes in a whisper. “That’s me.”
Your answering smile was radiant, blinding him and his gloomy thoughts for a moment. He was like a meteorite caught in your orbit all too quickly. The lonely expanse of space is suddenly lost on him as you sweep him up with your eyes and warm him with your smile. “Captain of the football team.” You say, the fact rolling off your tongue easily. Your eyes trail down to his side, the exact spot he had hurt himself and Joffrey rammed his head into. It was licking flames of pain up his side. “Poli-sci major?”
His lips lift into a small smile. “Are you stalking me?”
You scoff and roll your eyes, crossing your arms and shaking your head with a smile. “You wish, Targaryen. You’re just hard to miss.”
I WILL CRY IF THIS SUCKS PLEASE DONT BE MEAN !!
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rafeyscurtainbangs · 18 days
Text
Proactive Type of Person - Rafe Cameron One Shot
⭐ Republished ⭐
+18 Minor DNI
PervFrat!Rafe x CollegeStudent!Reader
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+18 Minor DNI
📖 Rafe is your boyfriend… You just don’t know it yet.
🪄 warning (contains spoliers): swearing, Stalking, pet names, degradation, namecalling, public masturbation, dark!rafe, mean!rafe, perv!rafe, mentions of cum play, mentions of unprotected P in V, ownership kink, mentions of rough oral (if I missed tags I’m sorry)
✨ “Just do it, baby girl,” I moan, watching as she pinches her top button. I grab mine as well, tugging it open with her. I hiss at the sensation of my rock-hard cock in my hand, feeling some relief. This is the first time I’ve touched myself all day. I was edging myself as I studied her Instagram and TikTok page, saving my favorites to my phone. When I saw her in the parking lot, I swear I could have cum untouched. ✨
💋 Part 1 will be from Rafe’s POV Part 2 will be from the Female Reader’s 💋
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Rafe’s POV:
“So, class. What does its structure contribute to the poem “Do Not Go Gentle into That Good Night?” The professor drones on, sliding her reading glasses down her nose as she looks out onto the lecture hall. I shrink in my seat slightly, along with the other boys, doing my best to avoid her gaze.
Required reading, my ass. Did she honestly expect us to read this shit on a Thursday night? Barely drug my ass outta bed for class. Thank fuckin’ god. I relax in my seat as one of the front-row nerds saves the basic population who doesn’t give a fuck.
“Repetition. The poet used it to stress his key theme for his readers.”
I nod, scribbling a little line of nothingness on my paper, keeping up with the facade. That shit went in one ear and out the next. “Hey, Cameron.” My frat brother elbows me on the side. “You good for the kegs?”
“Yeah, sweetheart. What else can daddy get you?” I sneer as I roll my eyes at Billy, who laughs and scoffs. “I get paid back first, plus 10%. Get me a bottle of Pappy Van Winkle; I ain’t drinkin’ Coors, and I ain’t pickin’ that shit up either.”
“Thanks, daddy,” he responds in a breathy voice, snatching the wad of cash off my hands. “We need ten kegs between the Deltas and Phi Mu… You good for that-”
“Fuck you, ‘Am I good for that’?” I cut him short through a breathy laugh. “You’re holdin’ the cash in your hands, bitch. Stop askin’. Add an extra 5% for questionin’ me-”
“Rafe.” My stomach sinks as my professor’s eyes zero in on mine. “Am I interrupting something?” The old bird cocks an eyebrow, her annoyance visible, matching my own.
“No,” I answer simply, crossing my arms across my chest and relaxing at my desk.
“Splendid. I assume you know the answer then. Correct?” She challenges me, trying to catch me off guard. A smirk pulls on her lips as she does just that. Cunt.
“I agree.”
“The key insight about death in the poem is, ‘I agree’?” She belittles. I stare at her blankly, blinking a few times to let her know she’s wasting her time. She’s not gettin’ shit out of me. I’ve got an A in this class, bitch. What’re you gonna do about it?
She chuckles weakly, shaking her head at my resistance. “Am I wrong, ma’am? I have a bit of conversational anxiety… If you’d like to repeat the question, I’d love to try again,” I ask through a shit-eating smirk, letting my sarcasm drip all the way through, irritating her even more.
“Anyone else?” She invites in a shrill voice as she dismisses me, looking around the room to find another. Some of my frat brothers snicker in the back, making the professor’s features even more rigid. “Miss. Y/n?” Her demeanor changes instantly, shaking off my defiance, moving on to another one of her perfect pets.
Who’s that?
Holy shit. I swallow hard, feeling my mouth dry up as I see her. She twiddles her fluffy pink pen, acknowledging the teacher with a smile. Y/n? Jesus fuckin’ Christ. How have I never seen her before? I watch as a football player shuffles down the row of the lecture hall. My question, answered in a moment as his broad shoulders cut off my line of sight. No. I stretch back, cranking my neck to get her in my sights again.
“The key insight’s that death should be fought against, even though it is inevitable.” Her beautiful voice fills the lecture hall like a song. The teacher smiles at her again, praising y/n for her correct answer. Y/n grins and nods, averting her eyes as she catches the room’s focus. Her cheeks blush the prettiest shade of pink, matching her glossy lips.
Those lips… I lick my own, thinking about the way they would look wrapped around my cock, drool running down her chin as she deepthroats my dick. I’d grip that little ponytail like a handlebar, using her mouth like a toy. I chuckle at myself, still surprised that my mind went there almost instantly, but I know myself too well. I am who I am.
Y/n looks so goddamn innocent… Not for long. She’s a slut for praise. I can tell. I can work with that.
My eyes work lower, following the curve of her cleavage in her low-cut shirt. Fuck, I can’t wait to get her on top; watch ‘em bounce in my face. I’m gonna cum all over her perfect rack. Tiddie fuck her while she cries for daddy’s dick. Smear that shit- “Earth to Rafe?” I grit my teeth as I’m torn from my fantasy. “Buddy, you good?” Billy chuckles, his voice taunting as he follows my focus to her. “Mmm… Y/n,” he sighs blissfully. “So fuckin’ hot, bro. She’s a Phi Mu girl.”
“No shit?”
“Mhmm… Transferred from LSU. Smart, funny, sexy… But she’s mine, buddy. Aight? Been layin’ down groundwork all semester.” He elbows me playfully, chuckling to himself, actually believing his own words.
“All semester, and you haven’t made a move?” I spit, eyes rolling in his direction. This whole conversation is laughable. Has he been sitting on this all semester? Really? She was mine the second I looked at her, buddy. You’re done.
“Long game,” he defends himself.
“Long game?” I scoff. “Doesn’t sound like you got any game at all...”
“Hey. Fuck off… I know she wants me. Her bedroom faces mine and she doesn’t even close the curtains when she changes anymore; she texts me all the time. See?” He gloats as he thumbs through his phone. I don’t even bother myself with the semantics. Why the fuck does that shit matter? What’s he gettin’ at? “I’m gonna help ‘em after class. They have some car wash fundraiser downtown.”
Is that so? “I like the sound of that,” I smile, feeling my cock growing stiff in my jeans at the thought of seeing her in next to nothing, wet and soapy no less.
“You can’t just take her from me, Rafe,” Billy mutters in annoyance. A laugh rumbles in my chest as I take in his empty words. “I’m not fuckin’ around. She’s mine.”
My head turns slowly in his direction as he bends in mine. I mean, the guy’s big, but I’m bigger. He can fight, but he’s not willing to see that shit through. Billy’s got that moral compass that urges him to stop where I couldn’t care less. And he knows it.
He balls his hands up in fists at his desk, jaw tightening as he does his best to intimidate me one last time. My boy’s a bitch.
“Mine.”
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I study her movements as she glides through the halls. Her hair bounces with each step brushing along her backpack, half-hiding her perfect ass. Her bum shakes a little as she walks, just a tease for me. Y/n slight skirt grazes just a few inches below her ass, leaving her bare legs on display.
I wonder what they’d look like over my shoulder… Spread wide on my bed as I devoured her perfect pussy. Damn. I bet she makes some pretty sounds. I can’t wait to hear that, to see her face, as she squirts all over my mouth and cock.
Where are you going, pretty girl?
She hooks a left, heading toward the coffee shop. I continue to follow my girl, watching as she strolls inside. Y/n walks toward the line, stalling next to the case of pastries, eyeing the bottom. Do it for daddy, baby. C’mon. There you go… She drops down, surveying the options. That goddamn ass… Does she know I’m watching? She’s gotta know. The paisley material tugs higher on her thighs, a peek of her round ass poking out the bottom.
She stands up again, taking another step, moving with the traffic flow. Y/n reaches into her purse, pulling out her phone. She smiles as she looks at the screen. Billy Hargrove 💕. I feel my heart pick up pace, my breathing quickening; rage boils inside me.
I gave him an order. This shit’s not up to him. I roll the tension out of my neck, fingers twisting into fists of my own. Where’s the fucking loyalty? She bites her bottom lip and smiles at the message, making me physically ill.
I’ve got distracted by her… Say somethin’ to make her forget about that.
“Uh, hey,” I rasp. Y/n continues to type up a little message. “Y/n?” I reach out, resting my hand on her arm.
“Oh, hi… Umm, Rafe?” She says my name, making everything stand still. I look down at the beautiful eyes and soft, pouty lips, the corners of which curl into a sweet smile.
“Uh, yeah,” I answer, trying to level my tone. “We’re in class together.”
“Yeah… She’s kind of a bitch. Right?” Y/n asks weakly as her eyes soften on mine, showing me pity like my feelings might have been hurt by that little exchange between the professor and me.
“Yeah, she sucks,” I laugh lightly, tossing my head down in fake shame. “The boys and I got a little rowdy last night. I didn’t read that shit. Did you? I mean, obviously-”
“On my way to class,” she giggles as she looks around playfully for our professor.
My mouth falls into an open smile. “Naughty girl. Coast is clear, by the way,” I rasp through a little laugh.
“Good,” Y/n sighs as she tucks some hair behind her ear.
“You’re really smart.” I praise, watching her cheeks blushing again, this time closer than before, making my heart bang in my chest.
“Thank you. Oh, umm, you’re a Delta. Right?” She asks, solidifying her answer as she eyes the embroidery on my polo.
“I am. And you’re Phi Mu?” Y/n grins as she nods in reply. “I’m headed over to your car wash after this.”
“Awesome. Yeah, Lyndsey was worried that the University might question where the money came from if we made anything off selling beer tonight.”
“A cover-up?” I smile down at her as I stuff my hands in my jeans.
“Mhmm,” she breathes. “The party’s gonna be huge. Do you think we’ll get busted?”
I chuckle at the sweet nativity of her question. “‘Course we will. Over 500 students in one place… But it’s a block party. Right? So they won’t be able to pinpoint anybody. Not usin’ the frat’s money directly. Cash. The boys are gonna pay me back as they sell cups. Untraceable.”
“Aww. That’s so nice of you,” she smiles. Her demeanor hasn’t faltered since we’ve spoken. She doesn’t seem to care about the material shit; my Breitling watch, the gold rings on my fingers. Her face didn’t light up when I dropped the fact that I would buy beer for the masses. She just said it was nice… Fuck, she’s perfect.
“I try… But, if we get busted, I’ll blame it on some beautiful Phi girl I know.”
She gasps playfully, smacking me in the chest. “You wouldn’t!” Everything tenses in my body as I fight back my arousal, covering the growing excitement in my slacks with my notebook.
Y/n looks over my shoulder, catching the girl’s eyes behind me as she tells us to move forward. “Sorry,” Y/n sighs apologetically, clearing the open space between us and the register. Y/n steps up to the counter, ordering a latte and a muffin before reaching into her purse.
“Oh, shit. No. Sorry! Let me,” I breathe as I hurry to her side. “I’ll pay for whatever she’s havin’ and a coffee for me: one cream, one sugar. Thank you.”
“Wow. Thank you, Rafe. You didn’t need to do that,” she coos.
“No problem, y/n.”
Gifts… That’s what my girl likes.
Well, shit. She’s gonna need a grand gesture. I can sneak into her room tonight. Check the essentials: dress size, music taste; the little things she enjoys.
I’ll take a look at her nightstand. How could I not? Gotta know what she uses to please herself so I know what I’m working with and what it takes to get her there. I want to know her better than she knows herself.
I follow along, trying to keep my eyes on her face, but I can’t help but roam her body. I’ve never seen anything like it, never seen anything so perfect for me. I never wanted anything so bad.
The barista walks over, setting down my coffee. I suck my teeth, regretting my choice, knowing if I got the same shit as her, I could have stayed. But I shouldn’t. “I’ll come by. Yeah? Don’t kill me… I gotta big ass truck, and she’s dirty as shit.”
“No worries,” she smiles sweetly. “I’ll see you there, Rafe. Oh, and thanks for the coffee again.” She reaches out, resting her hand on my arm.
“Of course, sweetheart.” I test a pet name, watching her smile widen. Just gorgeous.
I step away, walking towards the door. Looking over my shoulder as Y/n pulls out her phone, that same smile for Billy setting on her perfect lips.
He’s fucking dead.
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I pull up toward the parking lot, falling into the line of cars; a caravan of dicks with their windows already rolled down. Fuckin’ dogs. I lean out as well, surveying the scene looking for her. Jesus fuckin’ Christ. I watch the gaggle of girls prancing around in their bikinis, excitement building as I frantically look for her.
My heart skips as I see her sporting the most clothes, donning yet the sluttiest outfit of them all. She’s an absolute fuckin’ tease in her cut-off jean shorts and white t-shirt, soaked with water. The material clings to her curves, teasing me with her little triangle top, gathered slightly, barely covering her tits.
She leans over and reaches into the bucket, pulling out a sponge before ringing out the soap. A guy rolls down the window of his Mercedes, bending his neck to watch as she washes the side. I can already tell where this is goin’. He smirks, watching her ass as she leans down, cleaning the rear fender. “Aww, sweetheart,” he soughs, “Uhh…You missed a spot.” Y/n smiles sweetly, lowering to where she was before, making me huff out an aggravated breath.
Her friend walks over with a hose, spraying down the suds that y/n left behind. Tori Clarence, a late-night Delta regular. She says something that makes Y/n laugh. Y/n claps back, teasing her sister through a wicked smile. Tori lifts the gun, spraying y/n with a stream of water, hitting her directly on her tits.
Y/n gasps as her shirt turns from milky white to practically see-through, the chilly water running down her perfect body, making her nipple hard. She panics to get warm, reaching for the bottom of her shirt. Holy fuck. Holy fuck. Holy fuck. She pulls it over her body: soft skin, perfect boobs, and wet hair. Little lines of water cascade down her bare skin, rounding her curves catching on the denim of her shorts. Her eyes fall down her body, eyeing her damp state.
“Just do it, baby girl,” I moan, watching as she pinches her top button. I grab mine as well, tugging it open with her. I hiss at the sensation of my rock-hard cock in my hand, feeling some relief. This is the first time I’ve touched myself all day. I was edging myself as I studied her Instagram and TikTok page, saving my favorites to my phone. When I saw her in the parking lot, I swear I could have cum untouched.
I start to fist my cock as she leans over the trunk, her body perfectly positioned like I’m taking her from the back. Goddamn. I’d snake my rough hand up her soft skin, following the curve of her arched spine, drifting into her hair. I’d pull it back, feeling her pussy clench around my big dick. I’d spank her, cracking her tight little ass with the palm of my hand, leaving her red and bruised. Just one of the many ways I’d mark my girl. “Fuck, Y/n,” I moan her name as heat radiates through my body.
She walks along the side of the next car, letting me see her little triangle top: light blue, thin material, the blush of nipples visible. I roll my hand over my tip, whimpering at the sensation, imagining myself hitting the back of her throat as tears pool in her pretty, innocent eyes. Y/n looking up at daddy, mascara running down her cheeks as she throats me like the slut I know she can be. I’d hold her head in my hands, using her mouth to stroke my cock. My perfect little toy…
Fuck. I got a Fleshlight with her name on it. I’m gonna use those pictures when I get home… Gotta get myself ready for tonight. She has no clue what she’s in for. What I wouldn’t give to have my cock in her hand instead of my own. I’d make her jerk me off as she pleaded for my dick deep in that pretty tight cunt. I bet she’s so goddam wet. So, so fuckin’ tight.
“I know, baby. Daddy’s gonna give you his dick. Don’t worry,” I mumble, feeling my breathing start to increase with my pleasure. I thrust into my hand, fucking up into my fist as I watch her undo the loosened side strings of her bikini, tightening it again.
I eye the sign, catching the time. 11-4 PM. Yes… They’ll be here all afternoon. Just need to make a pit stop. Grab a pair of panties. Whatever I can get. I need to taste her. Stuff ‘em in my mouth as I study my prize. My hips stutter as I feel myself about to bust, imagining just how sweet she’ll taste. I work myself quicker, taking hold of my steering wheel as I rut into my hand.
‘Rafe. Rafe. Rafe.’ I can hear it now. See my little whore creamin’ on my cock as I give it to her over and over again.
“Fuck, I’m gonna cum, baby girl. Where do you want it?”
‘Deep in my pussy… Please, baby’. She’ll whimper and beg, pleading to get stuffed full. I’m gonna brush my fingers over her swollen clit, making her gush all over my cock and thighs, wetting everything around us until I’m pumping her full of my cum.
I’ll watch it drip out of her puffy pink hole, fucking it right back in, cleaning the rest off with my tongue before spitting it in her mouth.
My perfect cumslut.
I need it drippin’ out of her for days. Watchin’ my little angel walk into class, knowing just how good I dicked her down. I’ll watch her from my seat as she cleans the little cum tear off her inner thigh, slipping it between her lips as her eyes flick to mine, sucking it clean.
No one will have her again. “She was made for me.” The thought alone has my hand faltering; jaw falling slack. My stomach sinks, eyes doubling as she looks in my direction, matching my gaze. “Fuckkk…” My eyes roll back in my skull, toes curling, head thrown to the headrest as I cum harder than I ever have. Shit. I don’t even care if she saw. If she’s any girl of mine, she’d want to see it anyway.
My dirty little whore.
I look down at my jizz covered hand and lap. Goddamnit. I clear the gap between my car and the next before ripping off my shirt and wiping away my mess. I flip my hat on, snagging my protein shaker bottle from the passenger’s seat floor as I try to disguise the real reason I’m covered head to toe in sweat. I do my best to control my breathing, still running high from my climax, hit with the post-nut clarity that she may have seen it all.
She looks happy to see me… Real happy. Y/n smiles, making my heart race again as I meet her gorgeous eyes. She greets me happily, trotting up to my truck. “How are you doin’, sweetheart?”
She dunks her hand into the soapy bucket, grabbing a sponge. “Livin’ the dream,” y/n smiles, moving closer than expected. I take in her perfume, already so familiar to me, the smell of it revving me right up again.
“Sorry. I’m a sweaty mess,” I sigh. Her gaze falls down my body, studying me with a bashful smile.
“Just got done with a workout?” She asks.
“Mhmm…” I smile and nod in reply. “Pay now? Pay later?” I invite as I snag my wallet.
“Now,” she sings. “Donation based, so whatever you’re willing to give.” I thumb through my wallet, plucking out $200.
“Rafe…” She breathes, taking it off my hands. “Are you sure? This is a little much.” Y/n looks down at the cash in her hands before meeting my eyes again.
“Positive,” I assure.
“Well, that is very nice, Rafe Cameron,” she coos. Y/n uses my last name, making my stomach drop. She wouldn’t have known my last name unless she did some digging. I didn’t give it to her; I never said anything in class before today. She must have looked me up on Instagram or Snapchat… Maybe she asked one of her sisters about me.
I fight off a wide smile as she gets started on the car. She takes her time, putting in a little more effort than the cars before. She walks to the front of the cab, leaning over, breast jiggling as she swirls and circles the sponge on the hood. She rises a little higher on her tippy toes, unable to reach the rest.
“Here you go, babe.” Her friend sets down a ladder for Y/n. She bends over once more, the angle alone making my cock rock hard again as I imagine us fucking raw. Tonight… I’ll bend her over on the bathroom counter, just like she is now, the bass of the party on the street not even loud enough to cover her cries and my moans. I’ll pound into her as the slaps of our skin fill the bathroom. Her eyes shift to mine, catching my stare. She doesn’t drop focus, keeping her eyes on me as she continues to scrub. A smirk spreads on her lips, mirroring my own.
Baby girl…
Y/n steps down from the ladder before walking to her friend, grabbing the hose off her hands; taking her job instead. She sprays down the truck, cleaning off the suds. The light breeze catches the flow of water, sending little beads of it flying, catching on her perfect skin. My mouth waters as I imagine licking the glaze of it off her skin. Fuck… I don’t think I can take this.
“Alright, Mr. Cameron. You’re all set,” she smiles as she eyes her work. I bite my lip and nod.
“Thank you, princess. See you tonight.”
I pull forward, watching her from my wing mirror as she greets the next car. Her excitement fades as she welcomes the next. Good fuckin’ girl.
Next stop, Phi Mu.
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A/N: Writing Part 2 after Kinktober 💋
tag list and masterlist on my pinned post
@starkeysprincess @rafesthroatbaby @gri959 @loserboysandlithium @sabrina-carpenter-stan-account @akobx @darlydixon83 @hyperfixationgirl @savayvayblr-blog @oxpogues4lifexo @rafesgiirl @sleepiibunniiii
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astrobiscuits · 3 months
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Childress (30117) persona chart - what will your pregnancy be like?
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Sun placement - the central theme of your pregnancy
🧸 Sun in 1st house/Aries Sun: Your main focus will be on you and yourself only. You might become more selfish during this time, believing you deserve "the best of the best". You might take up a high-impact sport (such as boxing, martial arts, American football, hockey) or a speed sport (sprinting, speed skating). If Sun is afflicted, you might prioritize yourself in the detriment of your baby's health (it could also point out to a possible abortion, but there needs to be more indicators in the chart for that)
🧸 Sun in 2nd house/Taurus Sun: Your main focus will be on your financial assets, material possession and self-worth during your pregnancy. Most of your time will be spent on buying stuff for the baby - bassinet, bottles, clothing, room decor etc. If Sun is well aspected, you might feel more desirable as a woman during your pregnancy, embracing your new body; likewise, if Sun is badly aspected, you might criticize yourself for gaining extra weight and feel less desirable
🧸 Sun in 3rd house/Gemini Sun: Your main focus will be on learning as much as you can about pregnancy & childbirth. You will desire to be informed about different types of childbirth, different symptoms during pregnancy, whether they're normal or not. If you have friends who are already parents, you might seek advice from them about childbearing and what it is like to raise a child. If Sun is badly aspected, you might have a harder time making decisions regarding your baby
🧸 Sun in 4th house/Cancer Sun: Your main focus will be on your growing family, especially your baby. If you have family traditions passed on through generations, you might repeat those traditions while pregnant. You might start a diary where you keep record of your baby kicks. You will be emotional during your pregnancy, but you'll be able to regulate your emotions. If Sun is afflicted, you might prioritize the baby over your own well-being
🧸 Sun in 5th house/Leo Sun: Your main focus will be on children in general. If you have family and/or friends with children, you might socialize with them more, watch how they interact with their parents and other children, and imagine what your own child will be like. You might use different apps to visualize what your baby will look like. You might also enjoy your life more and consider pregnancy to be one of the best period of your life (ofcours, if Sun is well aspected)
🧸 Sun in 6th house/Virgo Sun: Your main focus will be on your physical health and your daily responsabilities. You might pay more attention to your diet during your pregnancy. Developing a relationship with your doctor/midwife will become crucial for you during pregnancy. Delegating tasks to other people might prove to become more difficult, as you want to feel like your in control of everything that happens in your life. You might resort to light physical activity to manage stress
🧸 Sun in 7th house/Libra Sun: Your main focus will be on your relationship with your partner. You will make choices according to both your opinion and your partner's opinion. You might allocate more time to pampering yourself and doing feminine activities such as getting your nails done, doing your makeup, finding new clothes which are both fashionable and fit your new body, going for photoshoots in flower fields
🧸 Sun in 8th house/Scorpio Sun: Your main focus will be on the life-altering transformations you'll be facing as your pregnancy progresses. Your life will likely change A LOT after you find out you are pregnant. You might become more private with the people around you, feeling like you have to protect yourself from those who ask too many questions and/or potential stalkers. You will pay more attention to the sex life with your partner. If Sun is afflicted, you might develop a deep fear of having a miscarriage
🧸 Sun in 9th house/Sagittarius Sun: Your main focus will be on travelling and acquiring wisdom. You will likely become more optimistic and generous during the pregnancy. As the Sun rejoices in this house, you might start thinking about the meaning of life, with its different philosophies and religious beliefs. If there are other indicators in the Childress persona chart, this placement can indicate getting pregnant in college (same goes for Moon in 9th house)
🧸 Sun in 10th house/Capricorn Sun: Your main focus will be on your career, status and public recognition during your pregnancy. You might become more popular only for the fact that you're pregnant and glowing. The father of the baby will likely become more important to you during the pregnancy. If Sun is afflicted, you might focus more on your career to the detriment of your baby
🧸 Sun in 11th house/Aquarius Sun: Your main focus will be on your wishes and aspirations, your community and your friend group, but also on eccentric matters. You might develop an interest in the latest baby gadgets, which will make your life easier after pregnancy. If you're an introvert, you might feel more extroverted during pregnancy or vice versa. You will likely post more frequently on social media or start a new page/channel focused on the pregnancy
🧸 Sun in 12th house/Pisces Sun: Your main focus will be on your spirituality, escapism methods and night life. You might have premonitory dreams about your baby, such as finding the gender of the baby, their feelings during the pregnancy or even their past life. You might also intuitively know your baby's real due date, regardless of the one mentioned by the doctor. If Sun is well aspected, you might quit addictions for good, not just during the pregnancy. Likewise, if Sun is afflicted, you might cope with potential problems during pregnancy by starting (or continuing) bad habits, which end up becoming addictions
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Miscellaneous obs
🍼 Sun/Moon aspecting asteroid Child (4580) or Miminko (60000) indicates having a strong connection with your baby during pregnancy
🍼 Asteroid Juno (3) aspecting Ascendant indicates that the first child will be very similar to the spouse. If the aspect is positive (sextile, trine), the child will inherit the positive traits of the spouse. If the aspect is negative (opposition, square), the child will inherit the negative traits of the spouse. For conjunction, it will be both positives and negatives. This aspect can point out to the relationship between the child and the spouse too (positive aspect = great relationship; negative aspect = strained relationship)
🍼 Planets conjuncting one of the angles = a significant change is likely to occur in your life during pregnancy
planet conjuncting ASC - change regarding the self
planet conjuncting IC - change regarding what's familiar & home environment
planet conjuncting DSC - change in an one-on-one relationship
planet conjuncting MC - change in reputation & professional matters
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yourfatherlucifer · 5 months
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Our Aurora : Chapter 1
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Ot8!Ateez x afab/female!reader
Summary: Attending university with your eight boyfriends wasn’t easy, neither was sharing a mansion with them.
Warnings: MDNI, this mini series includes tons of smut, slight violence, protective ateez, poly relationship, established relationship, mentions of mxm, choking, other smut themes.
WC: 2K
AU: University
Genre: Smut/Fluff
Nets: @newworldnet
Taglist: (open)
Note: GUESS WHOS BACK BITCHES!!!!! Btw please reblog 🤭
Series Masterlist
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The greatest benefit of being rich and going to a very prestigious university meant owning your own mansion with your eight boyfriends. That was a lot of lovers but you didn’t mind and neither did they. Of course, there was always someone who’d called you a whore for having so many men to yourself. You would ignore them because you knew your boyfriends loved you, they took care of your every need.
Each man was different, Hongjoong is an art major. Seonghwa is a mathematics major, he’s the nerd of the school. Yunho is an English major, he wants to be a teacher. Yeosang is a cheerleader for the football team. San is a quarterback for the football team. Mingi is a music major but is part of the basketball team. Wooyoung is a dance major. Jongho is part of the soccer team on a scholarship.
One time, Jongho punched one of his teammates in the face for flirting with you in the middle of practice. You had just come from supporting San at his practice, wearing his letter jacket and one of the boys favorite skirts. You had looked so cute cheering on Jongho, he was always so happy to see you there. Though his face had turned sour when he saw his captain walking up to you, a pervy grin on his face.
Oh this infuriated Jongho. Everyone knew at this school that you were taken, yes the relationship was polyamorous but you guys weren’t welcoming anyone else into the relationship. You were happy with just the nine of you.
So to see this vile man reach out to touch you brought pure anger to him. Jongho had charged him, tackling him to the dirt ground. Jongho had broken the man's nose, his knuckles were bleeding. You had to jump the fence to stop your lover. He was nearly kicked off the team until you paid off the school to keep quiet about it. Which he wasn’t very happy about but he got to keep his scholarship so he couldn’t complain. But you rewarded his protective behavior with a blowjob when the two of you got home. Safe to say he got over what you did.
After that, you’d spend time alone in the university’s art room, alone with Hongjoong. You’d sit in his lap while he painted. This was his practice for his future designer line. He wanted his own fashion line but decided on being an art major to help with his goal. His free hand would dance along the inside of your skirt, around the plush of your thighs while his paint brush stroked the canvas in front of him. You’d have to work so hard not to squirm in his lap, else you wanted to be punished for screwing up his artwork. Today was no different.
“Beautiful, you really need to stop moving. You’re gonna mess me up.” He tutted, “You don’t want that, now do you?”
You lightly whined, trying to get off his lap only for him to pull you back down.
Hongjoong didn’t like that you tried to leave him, “You already want to leave me? I thought it was my day?”
“It is your day, Joongie, but, I..” You couldn’t even finish your sentence.
“What is it? Why can’t you stay?”
To answer his question, you dug your ass into his pelvis, “Because, Joongie, I can feel your cock against me.”
Hongjoong set down his paintbrush with a groan, “I really wish you didn’t notice.”
He pushed his wet canvas to the side and bent you over the table, flipping up your skirt, “You’ll let me fuck this pretty cunt, won’t you?”
His words made you quiver, legs threatening to give out beneath you, “Please.”
“Please what, baby? You want me to fuck you so hard that I’ll have to get one of the boys to come pick you up? Cause your brain can only think of my cock?” Hongjoong’s decorated fingers pushed the soaked panties to the side. Your cunt glistening in the light. Just for him.
The moment you felt his lips to your cunt, you let out a loud cry. This man ate out cunt like it was his last meal. He was one of the few of your boyfriends who would even do such a thing.
Your fingers dug into the edge of the table as Hongjoong’s tongue slithered inside of your dripping hole.
Your body lurched forward with his movements. His hands gripped your thighs to let you know he wasn’t letting you go anytime soon. Two of his digits pushed inside alongside his tongue, pushing and prodding against your walls. He had to free one of his hands to massage his bulge, the growing discomfort in his shorts.
Once his cock was freed from its confines, he moaned a sigh of relief. His lips peeled away from your cunt, just to rub his cockhead against your folds, “Baby, you’re so soaked, and it's all for me.”
Ah yes, Hongjoong was very cocky, he knew your cunt belonged to your other boyfriends as well.
As he slowly pushed in, your mouth fell open and your eyes widened, still not used to him, “Ah, Joongie, careful. Stretching me so much.”
Hongjoong dipped his fingers in his paint palette and marked your ass cheeks with color. The cold liquid gave shivers down your spine. The red and yellow contrasted beautifully in his eyes, he couldn’t wait for the day for you to let him paint your body like a canvas. His perverted mind thought it would be a great idea to paint your breasts someday.
He watched as his cock pushed into your cunt, the squelching could be heard quite greatly.
-
Your body laid limp on the table, Hongjoong’s cum flowing out of your cunt, “Well, as much as I wanna go for round two, you’re all spent. I’ll call Yunho to pick you up.”
When your tallest boyfriend arrived, he chuckled at the sight of your exhausted body, “Again, Hongjoong? How rough did you go this time?”
As he stepped closer he could see the paint streaks along your body, your eyes were barely staying open, “Yuyu?” You could hardly call out.
“Hi, my sunshine, I’m here to take you home.” Yunho fixed your clothes and lifted your body onto his back, “Mingi is gonna take good care of you because I can’t. I have students I still need to tutor.”
You whined at his words, “But..want you to be home, all of you to be home.”
He couldn’t help but frown as he walked the two of you out the door, “I know, sunshine, but you know how busy we are. Seonghwa and Mingi are at home. You know the rest have their sports practice, I’m not sure if Wooyoung is home or not, but if he is, you know he’ll cook you a nice meal.” He could feel your ruined panties against his back, he’d have to tell Mingi to change you.
Yunho gently sat you in the passenger seat, reaching in the back to grab a blanket, covering your shaking legs, “Oh, sunshine, he really put you through it.” He chuckled to himself.
“Yunho?”
“Yes, Y/N?”
“Shut up.”
Yunho looked offended before he went around the car to get in the passenger seat, “You know, as rich as you are, you seem to love to be spoiled only by your eight boyfriends.”
“Yeah well, the money doesn’t matter to me, all that matters is I have you guys. It would be very lonely in that mansion without you boys.” You sighed, fiddling with your fingers.
As the car rumbled to life, Yunho reached over the console to grip your blanket covered leg, “Sunshine, don’t worry, we won’t be going anywhere. We wouldn’t dream of it. You’re stuck with us and us with you.”
-
Yunho honked the horn a couple times and a very rough looking Mingi wobbled out of the front door. He must’ve been sleeping. His white hair was a mess, his black rimmed glasses sitting on the bridge of his nose. His shirt was wrinkled and his basketball shorts hung low on his waist. He wore his cute little flip flops too. You did spoil them with designer clothes but sometimes they liked to dress normal, and so did you.
His face brightened up when he saw you in the front seat. He was like an excited puppy as he opened the passenger seat, “Hi Yunho, hello my princess.” Mingi’s plush lips pressed against yours as he leaned into the car, his huge hand practically swallowed your cheek.
Yunho leaned over the console and smacked Mingi’s shoulder, “Come on, lover boy, take her inside and do what I told you, I gotta get back to lessons. I cannot be late.”
“Be nice, Yuyu, he’s just excited to see me.” You unbuckled your seat belt and tossed the blanket in the back. You tried to step out of the car but your wobbly legs nearly gave out on you, luckily Mingi caught you.
“Goodbye Yunho.” You both waved your goodbyes as he drove away.
He carried you inside, already dismissing your butler and cleaning servants earlier. He knew he was about to make you scream in the bathroom, of course he had to be careful, knowing you just had the daylight fucked out of you by one your shared older boyfriends.
He took you up the giant staircase, took a left and brought you into the main bathroom. The massive tub sat in the middle, it was a square marble tub. The inner lining itself was white and had jets hooked in.
After he sat you on the side of the tub, he slowly pulled off your shoes, your socks. His cheeks reddened when he saw the state of your underwear but continued on, removing your clothes.
“Just sit here and look pretty, I’m gonna let the bath run.” He leaned over to turn the hot water on, “Did you need anything else?”
“Do you mind staying with me, Mingi? I’m really sore and don’t want to be alone..I’ll let you clean me?”
Mingi grinned at that, anything for his princess, “Of course I can.” He threw his wrinkled tank top to the side, his glasses falling to the ground but he didn’t care. He was stripped within seconds, proudly standing bare before you.
You slowly sunk yourself into the water and Mingi sat behind you, his chest pressed against your back, “The warm water feel good, princess?”
You let out a moan in contentment, the water already doing wonders on your sore cunt, “Yes, Mingi, it’s amazing, thank you, big boy.”
Minutes after just relaxing in the water, the tall man’s hand slinked around your shoulder to wrap around your throat, “it’s okay, princess.”
You let out a whimper as you could feel his hardening cock from behind.
“I won’t fuck you with my cock because I know you’re hurting, but you can handle my fingers, right?” His husky voice reverberated in your ear. If it wasn’t for the water, you just knew you’d be wet right now.
“Mingi, please, don’t tease me and just touch me.” Your ass pressed against his cock and his grip on your neck tightened in response.
“I’ll touch you but you just can’t move, got it?”
You couldn’t even get out a word before his fingers went for your cunt, still stretched out from Hongjoong.
Your lips curled inward and your head fell back to his chest, “Mingi!” His fingers were already doing wonders.
His heavy breathing was so hard to focus on as his eyes were glued to the way your cunt sucked in his fingers.
Mingi’s fingers were so long they could easily touch your cervix, “I can feel Hongjoong’s cum inside of you, princess, seems like you need a good cleaning, yeah?”
You whined, “He’s your boyfriend just as much as he is mine, ah Mingi!”
His fingers squeezed your throat, “Doesn’t mean I can’t get jealous, this cunt is heavenly.”
His teeth latched onto your shoulder as he quickened his pace, the water was splashing everywhere. His fingers never slowed down. You could feel his calloused fingertips touching your walls. Those guitar playing fingers.
“Come on, princess, cum for me, cleanse that delicious cunt for me.” He let out a growl.
With your cunt still overstimulated, your orgasm came quick and flooded around his fingers.
He pulled out his fingers with a smile, watching as the water washed the cum from his fingers, “Oh, princess, seems you came a lot..” Mingi kissed along the crevice of your neck while you whined in exhaustion.
“Mingi, please, need..bed.” You could barely keep your eyes open.
“Sure, princess, let’s go get some rest in.”
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legendary-pink-dot · 3 months
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Please, Mr Postman
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Pairing: Joel Miller x female reader
Rating: 18+ Explicit
Warnings: Unprotected PiV sex, butt play, creampie, oral (f receiving), and lots of sex toys. No ages mentioned or alluded to. Reader is married. There are themes of infidelity, blackmail and stalking, but Reader is fully consenting and willing. Mailman Joel is a sleaze, consider youself duly warned.
Word Count: 4.3K (by far the longest thing I've ever written, whew)
Summary: Every morning at 9am sharp, you take your coffee to the front room and listen for his mail truck.
Notes: Poking my nose out of my hiatus hidey-hole to write this as a gift for my very very dear friend @magpiepills for the prompt "Stole your mail and uses it to sexually blackmail you mailman Joel". I love you, my sweet Bat. 💜 Giant thanks to @for-a-longlongtime for the last-minute rapid beta read. Much love to my sluts for cheerleading: @youandmeand5bucks @exquisiteserotonin @arcanefox207 @sparklefarts38 @redhotkitchen I have never written Joel before, so please be kind. Thank you and enjoy.
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Please, Mr Postman - Joel Miller x f!reader
Every morning at 9am sharp, you take your coffee to the front room and listen for his mail truck. The squeak of the rusted brake pads as he parks at the end of the block is a melody, as distinctive to you now as the chimes of the classic ice cream trucks from your childhood, eliciting a Pavlovian response of salivating over the treats it held within.
Life was easy and carefree at that age. You didn't have responsibilities, grown-up worries, or this present burden of being a Stepford wife to a rich man who occasionally did some illegal activities. He was kind to you and you loved him, desired him even, but despite being a criminal he was boring. He was not the adventurous, filthy man in bed you secretly hoped for. But you knew things about his work that made it dangerous to leave, and financially he made sure you were kept comfortable enough to not want to tell. So you stayed. And here you were, marooned in a leafy suburb, stuck at home all day and fantasizing about the hot new mailman. What a cliche you've become.
The mailman's name was Joel. And he really did command attention.
Salt and pepper hair that curled around the edge of his blue cap. Dark brown eyes that showed a few flecks of amber the rare times you've seen them up close. A strong nose with a neatly trimmed mustache and gorgeous facial scruff. Large hands that could football-hold an entire package in each.
And speaking of packages: his looked prodigious. It looked obscene what he was carrying around in those standard issue United States Postal Service shorts. You dreamed about it at night -- how thick his cock must be and how you'd lick it like those sweet summer popsicle treats -- as your husband snored beside you after giving you one pitiful orgasm and then immediately coming himself and falling asleep.
You never thought anyone could be attractive in such a dumpy grey uniform, but somehow Joel found a way.
In the summer heat he always rolled up the edges of his pleated shorts, a thick pocket chain clacking along his meaty thigh. Light hair dusted his tanned legs. His black leather belt was cinched tight, further emphasizing his delicious bulge. The sleeves of his polo shirt were similarly rolled and showed off well-toned forearms from all the lifting and carrying. In short: he was a dream.
But you'd never go further than look. You loved your husband, for all his faults. You'd even placed a big order of sex toys last week in the hopes he'd be willing to spice things up in the bedroom. The tracking app says it's out for delivery, and right on cue, Joel comes walking up your driveway cradling a large cardboard box in his hands. Damn, he looks good today.
"Mornin', ma'am," he drawls politely. You think he winks at you, or maybe it's just the sun hitting his eyes. "Got a big one for you today."
You move to take it, but he shakes his head. "It's heavy. Let me put it inside for ya."
The thought of him being inside your home makes you tingle. You don't even think to consider that postal workers aren't supposed to go past a customer's front step.
You hold the door open and Joel stomps through, leaving bootprints of dirt on your "Home Sweet Home" welcome mat.
"Ma'am? Where d'ya want it?" He sounds amused, and you realize with a start that he's been standing in your entranceway for an awkward length of time. You'd been too busy ogling his legs, and more, in those rolled-up shorts. Was it your imagination, or was he not wearing underwear?
"On the coffee table, please." You lead him to the sitting room beside the entranceway. It's your happy place, your sanctuary, the spot you have your morning coffee in as you listen for the siren song of his mail truck.
Joel gently places the box on the coffee table and turns to you.
"I'll just wait here while you check that everythin's in order."
"What… what do you mean?" You feel your cheeks heat. Fortunately the box was nondescript, but it did give off a brown paper wrapping porn vibe.
"It's insured for $700. Must be some expensive stuff. 'S my job to write a report if anything's broken."
Nervous sweat starts beading down your back. "It… it's okay… I can report online if there's a problem…"
"'S no trouble. Let's just take a quick peek." Joel's already pulled his keychain ceramic boxknife out of his shorts, slitting the box open before you can say a word.
You stand there mortified and unable to speak as Joel opens the flaps, pushes aside the cushioning packets, and stares at the huge assortment of boxed sex toys.
"Well, well, darlin'. What do we have here?" His voice is a mixture of amusement and something deep and growling. Predatory.
Your face burns in embarrassment. "You… you can go now," you manage to squeak. "Please."
"Don't think so, sweetheart. Gotta check that everythin's in good working order." His boxknife shicks open the first product, a G-spot vibe from the looks of the box. Just before he can unwrap it, you find your voice. You hope you sound self-assured and assertive.
"That's enough. Please leave. My husband will be home any minute."
Joel smirks as he continues to rifle through the box. "Naw. He won't. Just did my route on Pine Street and saw him gettin' busy with that blonde divorcee in the cul-de-sac. Miz Perkins, wasn't it? Big tits."
It's a gut punch, and it makes you forget that this suddenly skeezy mailman is in your home and looking at your new collection of sex toys. An affair? He wouldn't. Not YOUR husband. Not your husband who rarely wants to do anything interesting in bed…
"Sorry, darlin." Joel pulls you out of your thoughts. "Fuck that guy. Wanna have some fun?" He pulls the vibe out of the box and waves it in front of you with a lopsided smirk.
This is too much to deal with. Your head is spinning, a mixture of emotions running through you. Including lust, incredibly enough. This mailman appears to be the take-charge dominant you wish your husband was.
"No. Like I said, you can leave now." You manage to say it firmer this time despite the gushing between your thighs. "Just go."
"Think I'll stay," he says, crossing the space between you in one step and pushing you backwards onto the sofa. "Don't want me reporting your ol' man to the authorities, now do ya?"
"Wha… what?"
He chuckles at your comically large-eyed look of shock. "Yeah, know all about it. Been readin' yer mail," he says matter-of-factly. "He's shit at covering his tracks. Who sends fake invoices through the mail? With his real address too. Amazin' he hasn't been caught yet."
"You've been reading our mail?! I should report you!" Who is this guy?
Joel looms menacingly over your prone figure. You didn't dare move. "Sure, darlin. Postal employees got a responsibility to report crime. I'll be fine," he smiles, leaning back a little, but not enough for you to escape. "But the Postmaster General don't take too kindly to mail fraud, or those aidin' and abettin'. That's a felony."
"But it's not a felony for a mailman to read people's mail?"
"Tell you what," he drawls, still in that matter-of-fact tone that should be so very wrong in this situation. He rifles through the box and pulls out a hot pink butt plug, wiggling it at you. "You're gonna let me try out some of these toys on ya, and I won't report him."
Blackmail shouldn't turn you on, shouldn't turn anyone on, but it does. You're only human, and besides, you definitely don't want to go to prison. You can't control your reaction as your upper half shrinks back into the sofa while your lower half stretches out towards Joel, the hem of your sundress hiking up like it has a mind of its own. He gives you a wolfish grin and rests a broad, heavy hand on your knee.
"Jus' what I thought, sweetheart. Seen you watchin' me out the window every mornin'. You been wantin' me to stuff your pretty little mailslot, haven't ya?"
A whimper escapes your throat. "Yes. Please," you whisper, thighs sticky between your panties and suddenly aching.
"Okay, honey. Gonna start easy with this lil' thing." He holds up a clit sucker, shaped like a penguin with a little pink bow around its neck, and switches it on to test it. It springs into life immediately. "Ah, great. Love how companies pre-charge things now-a-days."
How can he be so conversational about this? Does he blackmail all the married women in the neighbourhood? Well, maybe just the ones who have something to hide. Like you. You silently thank the heavens for sending you an attractive skeeze, at least. And Joel is so very, very attractive.
You spread your legs for him.
He ruches your sundress up your thighs and whistles appreciatively, the sound going straight to your core. "No panties? And gushin' out of that tight little snatch already? Didn't take ya for such a filthy girl."
"It's… it's hot out," you stammer, unable to think straight.
"About to get hotter," he smirks again, and damn that attitude is doing things for you. "You ready, sweetheart?"
You nod, and he keeps eye contact as he nestles your clit into the little penguin's mouth and switches it on.
Your back arches and you nearly scream out loud.
The sensation is warm, and there's no direct contact but it's like your clit is being gently suckled. You've never felt anything like it. It's only been three seconds and your hips are already squirming to chase more.
His hand presses lightly on your hip to give you something to brace against as he clicks the intensity button up a couple notches, and it's like waves upon waves of the absolute perfect pressure on your clit. The buildup in your core is so fast that you don't even realize you're coming until it's almost over. You also hadn't noticed that you'd grabbed his muscled forearm and sunk your nails into it, leaving little half-moon indentations in his tanned skin.
"That was… wow." Your gasps echo around the quiet sitting room. Joel doesn't say a word, just reverently watches your pussy pulse and gush out a few drops of slick. "Thanks." You wish it had lasted longer and were sad it was over. Oh well, a nice memory for the next time you think about Joel, or try out some of these toys with your husband.
You start to push your sundress down, assuming he'll leave now and half-grateful for it, but he grabs your shoulder and forces you back down into the pillows.
"Where you off to? I'm just gettin' started with you, darlin'."
"But…."
"But nothin'. Ain't done till I say so."
All you can do is stare at him, unsure if you should be angry, turned on, or plotting an escape.
He undoes his leather belt and slowly, threateningly, slides it out through the loops on his uniform shorts. "Don't make me use this, sweetheart. Gonna be a good girl for me now, ain't ya?" The depth and tone of his voice say he isn't joking.
You gulp, still tingly from your rapid orgasm. And ready for another one, you think as you make eye contact with Joel, feeling a bit bolder now. We're here, I let him do that much already, might as well go for it.…
The penguin gets discarded as Joel carelessly tosses it to the carpet and takes the hot pink butt plug out of the box again, running a finger along the curve of its long but slim length. "Hmmm. Pretty. This for you, or your husband?"
"Uh… me…"
"Ah, ah" he tuts. "You really are a nasty girl. You take one of these before?"
You shake your head, suddenly shy. You hadn't even wanted your husband to know about the butt plug, thinking he was so sexless that he'd be disgusted. Apparently not, if he's railing Ms Perkins with the big tits over on Pine Street.
"S'okay. Gonna slide it in real good for ya." While you shove a little sofa pillow under your hips, Joel combs through the box on the coffee table and pulls out a bottle of lube. He pops the cap and drizzles some over the plug, and you gulp again imagining it inside your ass. A faint scent of synthetic vanilla fills the air and for some reason it calms you, allowing you to relax your muscles as Joel slides the plug along your crack, rubbing and smearing the lube around your asshole.
"You like that?"
You do. You really do.
Your little moan spurs him on and he gently presses the generously lubed tip of the plug against your hole, just the teensiest bit. You look up at his face, that stupidly attractive face of a skeezy mailman who is sexually blackmailing you, and find yourself desperately wanting to feel his scruff on your inner thighs.
Apparently he's a mind reader, too. He smiles and lowers his head to your crotch, and licks your clit with his wide tongue at the same moment he presses a bit more of the plug into your ass. You nearly scream for the second time in minutes.
"That's it, honey," he breathes against your core, wiggling the tip of the plug in and out and hitting nerves you didn't even know existed back there, making your hips jump involuntarily. "Openin' up so nice for me."
A few more mind-numbing, distracting licks of your clit and the plug slides all the way in with a little pop. You're equal parts turned on and proud.
"Well, ain't that a pretty sight," Joel whistles appreciatively. He pulls up to sit back and just stares at you all spread out on the sofa with one leg hiked over the back, your sundress balled up over your stomach. He taps the pink flared base of the plug a few times like he's idly flicking away a cigarette. It wiggles inside you and you squirm and squeal. Actually squeal. You're still mad and weirded out and other things, but you're feeling too good to give up now and you're starting to not care how easily you're caving to this man.
"Lessee what other treats we got in here." He rifles through the box again. His face falls into a comical droop of sadness and he sighs loudly, holding up a little box marked 'Girth Extender Sleeve'.
"Oh, sweetheart. I'm so sorry." The condescension in his voice shouldn't turn you on this much. "Yer old man got a tiny dick? Not fuckin' you proper? No wonder you been starin' at me every day, desperate for a real man."
Before you can protest -- he's not tiny, I just wanted to spice things up, well okay maybe he could use a bit of help -- he unzips his uniform shorts and pulls out his hard cock, holding it at the base so you can take a good look. "Got a special delivery for ya, baby."
Yeah, Joel definitely doesn't need any artificial enhancement.
His cock is thick. Not super long, but probably one of the thickest you've seen, outside the few porn films you watched when you were younger and more uninhibited. There's foreskin covering what looks like a large mushroom head, and a prominent pulsing vein running up one side. It all looks delicious, and you unconsciously lick your lips as he smirks at how you take it all in.
"You want it real bad, dontcha?" He fists himself a few times, his foreskin sliding on the downstroke to give you a peek at the thick head. "Yeah, you sure do. Never knew I had such a little slut livin' on my route."
Shuffling forward, he grabs your thighs and spreads them wider. The head of his cock feels impossibly heavy as he slaps it on your clit, making you gush a little with every hit.
"Joel, will you… can you lick me again for a bit?" Your squeaky voice is impossibly needy and pathetic.
"Naw," he says, flicking the base of the butt plug again and making your hips jump. The plug was so comfortable that you'd already forgotten it was in there. "Gotta finish my route. Can't talk to customers with my face smellin' of pussy, ya know. I'm representin' the United States Postal Service out there."
"Oh, does the USPS regularly fuck its customers too?"
"Sure does, darlin'. Bends 'em over and gives it to 'em hard with the price hikes every year."
He roughly pulls you up and bends you over the sofa arm, positioning you like the personal little fuckdoll you are for him.
"Got the next best thing though." He slips on a tiny purple fingertip vibe, your free gift from the toy company for such a large order. With such thick fingers, it looks like he's wearing an upside-down Ring Pop. It gives a loud rumble when he switches it on, and he laughs as he tugs his shorts down over his thighs. "Cheap ass shit. Hope the battery lasts. But it don't take you long anyway, right sweetheart?" He reaches around your hips, lifts your sundress and presses the vibe straight on your bare clit without any preamble, and your hips slam backwards into his crotch as you scream again, his cock jostling the base of the butt plug and sending shockwaves both up and down your core at the same time.
"Yeah. Thought so."
Amid the mixed sensations suddenly comes a new one: the thick head of his cock slipping into your cunt as he swirls the vibe around your clit, not letting it rest in any one spot long enough for your liking.
"… Wait! No condom?"
"Naw. You're on the pill, right?" He doesn't wait for your answer, as if he already knows.
Normally you don't enjoy this position but you're too far gone now, pushing your hips back and encouraging him deeper in, more than wet enough from all the playing to take him in.
"Greedy little slut, ain't ya?" He feeds you another inch, pauses, then another, torturously slow as you stretch around his thickness. "Tight little snatch feels so good. Miz Perkins with the big tits probably don't feel this sweet." Joel demeaning your husband like this and throwing the adultery in your face should make you mad -- at both of them -- but it only turns you on more, beads of sweat dripping down your spine as he slides all the way in to the hilt, giving you a few moments of grace to adjust to the size of him.
One strap falls down your shoulder, letting your tit pop out of your sundress and he palms it roughly, giving it an exploratory squeeze. The finger vibe is still buzzing and he swipes it across your nipple, the nubby texture chafing just before the point of pain. "Nice. You like that? Let's add somethin'."
Mentholated 'arousal balm' was another of your free gifts, and not something you'd ever thought to try. Joel twists open the little tin and dips the finger vibe in it.
"That smells strong, do we have to?" Wooziness hits you as the peppermint smell goes straight up your nostrils.
"Like I said, baby, gotta make sure everythin' works. Else I gotta do a return," chides Joel, tossing the tiny tin on the floor. You watch it roll under the baseboard heater as he grabs your hips roughly and repositions you. "Real fucking pain, returns. Lotsa paperwork."
He brings the now-mentholated finger vibe back to your clit, and two seconds later it feels like your entire pussy is on fire.
Thank goodness he didn't put any on my a--
Joel moves the base of the butt plug aside and presses the finger vibe against your asshole.
The menthol soaks into your tender membranes and it's so, so cold and hot at the same time. Your brain melts along with it.
Everything is lit up now and you squirm as he slides his hardness back into your pussy and gives a few experimental thrusts. "Tight fuckin' snatch," he mutters, your walls clenching around him in time with his finger flicking at the plug, your entire lower half burning but not in a terrible way. "But could be tighter." He suddenly pulls his cock out and you whine, loudly and needily.
"Please, Joel."
"Please what, darlin'?"
"Put… put it back in? Please."
"All in good time. Gotta give those walls an extra little stamp."
You look over your shoulder to see him drizzling lube into the girth sleeve and slipping it onto his cock. He's already so thick that it's a tight fit, the soft tube slipping off a couple times before he finally stretches it enough so it can slide all the way on, pulling it down so his large head pokes out of the top. You clench involuntarily.
"Umm. That's not gonna fit."
"Sure it will, honey," he drawls. "Didn't think you could take that pretty little pink plug, right? And look at ya now."
He's got a point.
"Gonna stuff that little slot full to the brim and turn ya into a size queen. Open wide, baby."
He's merciless as he slides back inside, at a curved angle since you're turned slightly to brace both your hands against the back of the sofa. The extender is smooth and feels just like his skin, and you're powerless to resist the incredible feeling of the extra width. He was exactly right: you felt full. With the thick pressure in your cunt pushing against the plug in your ass, you felt more stuffed than you ever had in your life, and what's more your pussy is still burning from the menthol balm. It was overwhelming but also glorious. In that second you knew it would be impossible not to think of Joel next time your husband fucked you, even if he wore this toy. Stupid sexy blackmailing mailman.
Baby animals had more stability in their legs than you do right now, your thighs spasming uncontrollably as Joel palms the vibe around your clit while holding almost half your waist in the span of his other large paw. He fucks into you hard from behind until you're so close to coming you can taste it. With the extender, his cock is hitting spots inside you that you didn't even know you had. A heavy chain pops out of the neck of his polo shirt and hits your nape with a loud clank as he slams into you from behind, the cheap poly-rayon blend of his polo shirt chafing your shoulders in a delicious burn as his chest presses close against your back and his hips smack against your ass, jostling the butt plug with every thrust.
whirrrrrr goes the finger vibe as the tiny cheap battery dies, and he slaps your clit hard with the vibe one, two, three times and you come, yelling for the nth time since he left his bootprints on your welcome mat that morning. His grunts are loud and lewd as he fucks you through it, easing up only to make his thrusts shallower so he can reach a hand between you and gently pull out the butt plug with a little 'pop'. He tosses it and the finger vibe onto your pristine off-white carpet, not even bothering to aim for the opened box on the coffee table.
"So fuckin' tight," he wheezes hoarsely, "I gotta extra big load for ya," and he presses his hips so hard against your ass that you almost fall over the sofa arm, his voice faltering as he groans and you feel hot spurts of his come coating the inside of your pussy, as deep as he can put it.
You slump forward onto the sofa and he pulls out, both of you heaving. The fiery balm has mellowed to a gentle tingle and your core is pleasantly warm. Stretched out. Fucked out.
"Welp, gotta get back to my route." It's been only a minute and his matter-of-fact conversational tone has already returned. You peer over your shoulder and watch him pull his shorts back on, rolling up the hems and slicking his belt back into the loops, tucking his polo shirt back in with practiced efficiency.
"Will I see you again?" You hate how pathetic you sound, and you must be a real sight too, half naked with a sweaty rolled-up sundress stuck to your back, your ass still up in the air like you're waiting for him to stick it right back in and rail you again immediately.
"Oh, I'm sure we'll be seein' each other again real soon," he says smoothly.
As you stand up, knees a little weak, a drop of cum drips down your thighs. "Glad I'm on the pill," you mutter to yourself as you pat down your wrinkled sundress and pause at the mess of packaging and boxes littering your sitting room.
"About that, darlin'." Joel smiles, pausing by your front door. "Miz Perkins over on Pine Street orders sugar pills and well, you know, packages get mixed up sometimes on the route. Might wanna check you got the right pills."
Joel slams the door and the mail slot squeaks rhythmically as you stand there, horrified, listening to him whistle a jaunty tune as he walks down your driveway and back to his mail route.
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judespoets · 3 months
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𝙨𝙪𝙧𝙥𝙧𝙞𝙨𝙚 | 𝙟𝙪𝙙𝙚 𝙗𝙚𝙡𝙡𝙞𝙣𝙜𝙝𝙖𝙢
𝙨𝙪𝙢𝙢𝙖𝙧𝙮: you haven’t been feeling good. but what happens when jude connects the dots?
𝙥𝙖𝙞𝙧𝙞𝙣𝙜: dad!jude x fem!reader
𝙬𝙖𝙧𝙣𝙞𝙣𝙜𝙨: signs of vomit/ throwing up
You and Jude start your day early, around 6:30 AM. The sun is just beginning to rise, casting a gentle glow through the curtains of your cozy home in Madrid. You nudge Jude gently, the both of you smiling as you hear the soft murmurs of your two-year-old son, Caleb, waking up in the next room.
You slip out of bed, heading to the kitchen to start breakfast and prepare Caleb's lunch for nursery. The kitchen is warm and inviting, filled with the aroma of freshly brewed coffee. You expertly slice fruits, spread peanut butter on bread, and pack a healthy lunch for Caleb. Meanwhile, you hum a cheerful tune, occasionally glancing at the photos of your happy moments on the refrigerator.
Jude, still a bit groggy but smiling, makes his way to Caleb's room. He opens the door to find Caleb standing in his crib, wide-eyed and giggling with excitement. "Good morning, champ!" Jude says, scooping him up into his arms. He changes Caleb's diaper, tickling him slightly to keep the little boy's spirits high.
Once dressed, Jude helps Caleb into his favorite little football-themed outfit, a gift from one of his teammates.
They join you in the kitchen, where you had set out a nutritious breakfast for them.
Caleb babbles happily as you feed him pieces of fruit and yogurt.
Jude pours himself a cup of coffee, sharing a quick kiss with you and exchanging smiles filled with love.
"Good morning, my loves! Did you sleep well, Caleb?" You asked, smiling widely.
"Mornin', Mommy!“ was what Caleb babbled.
"He was so excited to wake up today. I think he knew it was nursery day." Jude told you, softly kissing the back of your hand
"He's been looking forward to seeing his friends. Here, let's get some breakfast in you both." You said as you started feeding Caleb again.
You sit at the kitchen table, Caleb in his high chair, eagerly reaching for his food.
You suddenly felt a wave of nausea wash over you. Putting your hand over your mouth lightly, trying to steady your breathing.
“You okay, baby?” Jude asked next to you, putting his hand on your thigh.
“I don’t know if just don’t feel so good right now.” You answered, looking at him.
“Okay, go lay down i’ll get Caleb ready don’t worry. Should I cancel training?” Jude asked you.
“No, no. It’s not an emergency. You go to training. You’ll take Caleb to nursery on your way, please? I’ll go lay down some more. Thank you babe.” You said, kissing Jude and Caleb, standing up and walking up the stairs with your slightly shaking legs.
“Come on, buddy. Let’s get you washed up and going.” Was the last thing you heard from downstairs before falling into a deep slumber under your sheets.
———
Jude turned the key in the lock, gently pushing open the door with Caleb in his arms. The house was shrouded in darkness, and he carefully navigated the familiar path to the living room, his eyes gradually adjusting to the dim light.
"Shh, buddy," he whispered to Caleb, who clung to him sleepily. "Looks like Mommy's still resting."
He set Caleb down, and the little boy toddled off to find his toys. Jude made his way to the bedroom, opening the door slowly to check on you. You were still curled up under the covers, your breathing deep and slow. He could see the pallor in your face even in the low light and felt a pang of concern.
Quietly, he backed out of the room, closing the door softly behind him. Back in the living room, Caleb had already begun to scatter his toys across the floor. Jude smiled tiredly at the sight, then headed to the kitchen.
He quickly prepared a simple dinner, heating up some soup he had made the night before. He wanted to keep it light for you, knowing you wouldn't have much of an appetite. Once everything was ready, he brought a tray to the bedroom, nudging the door open with his foot.
"(Y/N), love," he whispered, placing the tray on the nightstand. "I've got some soup for you."
You stirred, your eyes fluttering open. You gave him a weak smile. "Thank you, Jude. You didn't have to."
"Of course I did," he replied, sitting on the edge of the bed and brushing a strand of hair from your face. "How are you feeling?"
"Still not great," you admitted, your voice barely above a whisper.
Jude's heart ached seeing you like this. "Do you want me to call the doctor?"
"No, I think I just need to rest," you said. "Thank you for taking care of everything."
Jude leaned down and kissed your forehead. "I'll handle it. You just focus on getting better."
You gave a small nod, your eyes already closing again. Jude quietly left the room, closing the door behind him. Back in the living room, he found Caleb busy with his toys, his giggles a comforting background noise.
Jude settled on the couch, keeping one eye on Caleb and another on his phone, ready to call the doctor if your condition didn't improve. He found it weird since you’ve been fine this whole time.
Later, you descended the stairs slowly, your empty soup plate in hand.
You moved carefully, trying not to disrupt the fragile equilibrium you had maintained throughout the day. Your stomach churned uncomfortably as you approached the living room, where Jude and Caleb were playing.
Jude glanced up, his face lighting up with a smile that quickly faded into a look of concern when he saw your pallor.
"Hey, how are you feeling?" Jude asked, rising to meet you, his hand gently touching your arm.
You gave a weak smile. "Still not great. I thought the soup might help, but..."
Suddenly, a wave of nausea hit you, and you instinctively covered your mouth, your eyes wide.
The scent of something — perhaps a lingering whiff from Caleb’s snacks or Jude's cologne — made your stomach rebel.
Jude, noticing your distress, quickly ushered Caleb to his feet.
"Caleb, let's put away the toys for a bit, okay? Mommy needs some quiet time," he said, his voice calm but urgent.
Caleb, sensing the seriousness, nodded and began gathering his toys. Before Jude could turn back to you, you rushed to the nearest bathroom. Jude followed closely, his worry deepening as he heard you retching.
He found you kneeling by the toilet, pale and trembling. "I’m here, (Y/N)," he said softly, rubbing your back in slow, comforting circles. "It’s okay. Just let it out.
You groaned between bouts of vomiting, the smell that had triggered your nausea still lingering in your mind.
Finally, the retching subsided, and you slumped back against Jude, who handed you a glass of water he’d fetched from the sink.
“Thanks,” you whispered, your voice weak. “I don’t know what came over me.”
“Probably just a bug,” Jude said, helping you to your feet. “Let’s get you back to bed. You need to rest.”
You nodded gratefully, leaning on Jude as he guided you back upstairs, his concern for you evident in every careful step.
As Jude helped you back upstairs, his mind raced with worry. He laid you gently on the bed, arranging the pillows to make you comfortable. As he did, he noticed you wincing slightly, your face still pale.
"Baby, do you remember what smell made you feel so sick?" Jude asked gently, brushing a strand of hair away from your forehead.
You thought for a moment, your brow furrowing. "It was… I think it was the smell of Caleb's peanut butter sandwich. It just hit me all of a sudden."
Jude's eyes widened slightly as a thought crossed his mind.
He recalled the last time you had been this sensitive to certain smells. It had been when you were pregnant with Caleb. Could it be happening again?
"My Love," he began cautiously, "do you think there’s a chance you might be pregnant?"
You blinked, the question catching you off guard. "I… I don't know. I suppose it's possible. I’ve been feeling off for a few days now."
Jude nodded, his concern mingling with a glimmer of excitement. "Maybe we should get a test, just to be sure."
You managed a small smile, your hand resting on your stomach. "Yeah, I think that’s a good idea."
Jude squeezed your hand reassuringly. "I'll run to the pharmacy and get one. You just rest, okay?"
As you closed her eyes, Jude leaned down and kissed your forehead. He felt a mixture of worry and hope as he headed out the door, ready to find out if your family was about to grow.
Back in the living room, Jude quickly tidied up, clearing away the remnants of Caleb’s snack and any other potential triggers for your nausea. He found Caleb sitting quietly on the couch, sensing the unusual tension.
"Dad, Mommy okay?" Caleb asked, his big eyes filled with concern.
Jude knelt down beside him. "Mommy's not feeling well right now, buddy. I need to go out for a bit to get something that might help her feel better. Can you be a good boy and stay here quietly until I get back?"
Caleb nodded solemnly. "I can do that."
Jude gave him a reassuring hug before grabbing his keys and heading out. The drive to the pharmacy felt longer than usual, his mind racing with possibilities. Once he arrived, he quickly located a pregnancy test and made his way back home, his heart pounding with anticipation.
When he returned, he found you dozing lightly, your breathing steady. He set the test on the nightstand and gently woke you up.
"Baby, I got the test," he whispered, helping you sit up slowly. "Do you feel up to taking it now?
You nodded, your eyes meeting his with a mixture of anxiety and hope.
Jude helped you to the bathroom, steadying you with each step.
After a few moments, you emerged, the test in your hand.
"Now we wait," you said softly, your voice trembling slightly.
Jude wrapped his arms around you, holding you close as you sat on the edge of the bed.
"No matter what, we'll face it together," he whispered, kissing the top of your head.
You sat in silence, the seconds ticking by slowly. Finally, you glanced at the test, your eyes widening.
"Jude... it's positive," you breathed.
A flood of emotions washed over Jude as he hugged you tightly, tears of joy and relief mingling with the worry.
"We're going to be parents again," he whispered, his voice choked with emotion.
You smiled through your own tears, feeling a renewed sense of hope and strength. "Yes, we are."
You stayed like that for a while, holding each other.
568 notes · View notes
honeyhoshi · 7 months
Text
hat trick!
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the term 'hat-trick' is used to define when a player achieves the feat of scoring three goals in a single game.
summary: the first half of the championships is going to their opponents and everyone is looking to mingyu to lead the team to victory. as their star player, it’s a tall order, especially when his plate is already full with you.
this a part of the man of the match universe
genre: professional football (soccer) au, porn with a little plot
wordcount: 5,616
pairing: mingyu x afab!reader
warnings: HEAVY DDlg kink, HEAVY d/s themes, both parties are safe, sane, and consenting adults, reader is implied to be significantly smaller than mingyu, huge mingyu, big dick gyu (canon), (acknowledged???) exhibitionism, unprotected sex (pls dont do it, its not worth it), multiple sex scenes, spit kink (bec i wrote it), creampie (also bec i wrote it), mentions of masturbation, size kink go bbrrrr, bulge kink, pussy stretching, plenty dirty talk, mingyu uses soooo many nicknames (pretty, baby, princess, etc.)
author's notes: this is written for my dearest friend @madeforgyu who helped me bring forward!mingyu to life and for making his gf such a joy to write. thank you also to her for inspiring me to come back to tumblr after almost a decade.
Mingyu is pissed. He’s absolutely fucking livid.
This game had to have been fucking cooked. There was no way the ref was making all these shitty calls for him not to be paid off or something. The team had been making all the right moves but the second something seems like a foul, a whistle blows and somehow it's always someone from the Diamonds getting the blame.
Mingyu had come to four attempted goals on target and any other time was deemed offside by the refs. If he sees that fucking checkered flag go up one more time before they call for half time he’s going to really give them a reason for a red card.
Any other day he’d probably be able to brush it off after the half time break. But this isn’t any other day or any other match. It was the last match of the season — it was the Korean FA Cup final.
The 23-24 season was grueling but rewarding for the Diamonds. After the major upset at finishing as runners up in the season prior, the whole squad had come into this season with fire under their asses. The change in coaches was another thing — while their ex-manager, Mr. Cho was a hardass, their tearful promise to give him a win even after his retirement paired with Seungcheol’s no-bullshit coach style took them from 100% to 250% in the space of the off season.
Mingyu’s never been a better football player. Which is why he’s unhappy when the half time whistle does blow and they’re down 0-2.
Both teams shuffle into the tunnel to head to their locker rooms where their managers and coaching staff were waiting. Then Mingyu sees a flurry of pink shuffling through the mess of white and red kits.
“Excuse me, excuse mee, coming through please,” comes a light voice, parting the crowd.
There are a couple of chuckles and greetings coming from his teammates and even a high five and a “hey tiny!” from Hoshi before it finds its way in front of him.
It’s his girlfriend. It’s you.
Your presence at the game is no anomaly. You’re pretty much a permanent fixture, sort of like the 12th man of the team. Except you can’t play football for shit and you’re always somehow wearing the worst shoes for going on the pitch.
Everyone on the Diamonds’ side knows you — from the press, to the coaching staff, even some of the nutritionists. You’ve been with Mingyu forever. You hardly phase anyone around you when you bat your eyes at Mingyu and grab one of his hands in both of yours.
Mingyu tries to harden his glare at you, doing his best to send a look of displeasure at whatever it is you’re trying to pull.
“I’m soooorry,” you start, playfully rocking on the balls of your feet and trying to tiptoe to get closer to him.
Mingyu almost wants to roll his eyes.
The last of the team coaches enter the locker room but before the door closes, Seungcheol peeks out and meets Mingyu��s eyes. Hoshi’s head pops out next to him shortly after.
“I don’t have to tell you anything, I’m sure," Seungcheol starts, “But you’ve got 10 minutes, Gyu.”
“Tiny, I need my forward in tip top shape, alright?” comes Hoshi’s laugh.
Now Mingyu really rolls his eyes.
You can’t help the giggle that bubbles out, “Aye aye captain!”
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You don’t have to be told twice when Mingyu drags you into an extra locker room and says “Skirt up, pretty.”
He makes quick work of slamming the door shut, not even bothering to lock the door. But he does flick the lights open. He wants to see. He has to see all of you.
When he turns around he clicks his tongue at you seated on one of the benches. You’re still rolling your underwear down your legs. They’re a completely useless pair. Though he admits most of your underwear is useless, either too frilly, flimsy, just there for decoration. It’s okay. He likes pretty things. No wonder he likes you so much.
“Uh-uh, doubletime princess. No time for the usual. I need to come before stepping back on that fucking pitch.”
Mingyu’s agitation from his sub par showing during the first half is bubbling under his skin. He’s been stiffening under his shorts since he saw you shuffling through the tunnel and the minute you grabbed his hands, the only thing in his head was how badly he needed to stuff you with his cock.
He grimaces at the pout on your lips as you finally untangle that stupid lacey thing from your frilly socks and platform sneakers. Mingyu grabs your wrist and drags you up against the wall that isn’t lined with lockers. He presses your front against the wall and uses his knee to spread your legs apart.
On instinct you stick out your ass, eager already despite him still being fully dressed, wiggling slightly to show him you want this too.
With quick, practiced fingers Mingyu undoes the knot of his bottoms and pushes down his compression shorts low enough to pull his cock out. He breathes a sigh of relief because finally he can flip up your skirt and see just how needy you are.
He has one large hand wrapped around his equally large cock and inspecting the view in front of him. His other hand settles on the roundness of your ass, grasping slightly to spread you open. He eyes your pink puckered hole and allows his gaze to move down to your pussy. He’s pumping himself roughly to get himself to full hardness as he eyes the slick that’s seeping between your lips. You’re almost jealous. That’s your job.
Once he’s satisfied with himself, he lets his cock rest between your cheeks, and he grasps you on both sides to squeeze. You want to cry, almost scared he’ll get off like this, just fucking the tightness of your pressed asscheeks. It’s almost quiet save for his panting and the way your slick cunt is starting to wet his cock.
So you whine loudly, that unimpressed, unsatisfied one that precedes a—
“Daddyyyyyyyy!”
Fuck there it is.
Mingyu grimaces and clicks his tongue again. No use being quiet now. Or ever, really. Everyone knows anyway.
He turns you around quickly, hoisting you up in his arms and moving to wrap your legs around his slender waist. This position has your pussy pressing up against the underside of his cock and the slight relief it gives you makes you nearly sob.
Instead you whine. You whine and start to grind sloppily as the feeling of delirium starts to course through you. It comes naturally when it comes to Mingyu. You’re addicted and so is he.
Even if your bare cunt is already pressed against him and all Mingyu has to do is angle your hips slightly to slip in, he goes the extra mile.
He supports your smaller frame with one hand and uses the other to lift a corner of his jersey to his teeth so he can bite it. He pulls it up high enough to expose his stomach and your mouth waters at the sight.
Mingyu looks good. He always looks good and he knows you like it when he’s on display for you as well. The dips and groves of his stomach, how it's still damp from the sweat from the first half, has you clenching around nothing.
He feels it against his cock and he quickly decides to quit playing around. You two probably have around 6 minutes and not a second to lose. So he flips the front of your skirt up and groans at the sight of you.
You’re soaked and coating his cock as you try to grind against him, a futile attempt to somewhat relieve yourself. 
So Mingyu pulls away slightly to position the head of his cock at your entrance.
“D’you play with yourself at all, sweetheart?” He says, tapping the large head of his cock against your clit.
“Huh?” comes your confused response.
“I asked my dumb baby if she played with this little pussy?” He answers meanly.
You flush. It’s like a routine for you to stay with Mingyu the night before a game, allowing him to let off steam and go into a game day glowing and stress free while you sit on his lap in the team bus full of his cum from your morning fuck.
But the night before the cup finals had you attending a work event at the last minute because of a scheduling issue that had both you and Mingyu pissed off and horny.
You suppose that’s partly to blame for the first half that had even you swearing at the refs from your seat in his private box.
“Just a little—“
He clicks his tongue, “How many fingers d’you use?”
“Just two daddy, a-and I stopped!” you cry almost petulantly.
“Yeah, baby? Why’d you stop?”
“Because it was no good!” You bounce in his hold slightly, biting your lower lip as he continues to tease your entrance and clit. Just the head of his cock was enough to get you this wound up.
He grins. It’s brilliant and handsome and just so fucking mean because he says, “Thats right. Two of my dumb baby’s fingers are nothing on daddy’s cock,” and pushes into you.
Mingyu has always been so big and thick and you have always always been so much smaller than him, his cock always stretching a little painfully when he first slips in. But today, with such little time and even spending the night away from each other, the stretch punches the breath from your lungs.
You squeal in equal parts delight and distress and Mingyu sets a brutal pace, not even letting you settle into the feeling of him inside of you.
But you understand. You’re his good girl so you look at him with big teary eyes, bottom lip in between your teeth and nod dumbly at him. Words fail you whenever he’s inside you but it’s okay. It’s better than okay. 
You two have long established how nothing nothing in this world makes you happier than when he uses you as he wants, when slips into you whenever he wants, and calls you his princess while destroying your insides.
His eyes are transfixed on where the two of you meet and you can’t help but follow his gaze. It’s absolutely lewd how you wrap around his cock, airtight, and how the sloppy noise echoes in the room.
“Look at my little pussy,” he starts, “my perfect little hole. My baby’s little cunt was made for me.”
Your cries are growing needier, louder, and more depraved. At the back of your mind you remember to worry about how tonight's the championship match and that the halls are surely bustling with press, staff, and even the opposing team. But Mingyu is fucking you so deep, so fast, that he’s literally fucking the thoughts out of your head.
You fight to stay with him in this room, in this moment, but before your eyes completely shut close, you feel his hand wrap around your throat.
“Daddy’s running out of time, baby,” he says, “so be a good girl and stay still for daddy, huh?”
You whine and nod as his hips move faster and he cages you up against the wall, your arms coming up to wrap around his head. 
“Words, princess. I need words.”
You want to swear at him and thrash in his arms but you’re feeling too good, too lost in the pain and pleasure. You bite at the collar of his jersey because it's the only thing you can do to quiet the pathetic whimpers, babbling, and indecipherable cries Mingyu’s pulling from you. 
Mingyu presses a kiss to your temple quickly, “My dumb baby,” he coos, “look so pretty when you’re crying on my cock. That’s my pretty baby, daddy’s almost there. Keep being good for me, m’kay?”
He speeds up his fucking, hips pistoning, and the press of his cock pressing against that spot in you that makes you see stars.
Mingyu pulls you into a kiss that’s all spit and teeth and bruising lips. He sucks on your tongue before separating the two of you and looking back down at his cock bullying its way into your pussy. 
It happens before your mind can process it but at the speed of light you feel a wet, hot thwack of his spit landing on your clit harshly and you cry out, unable to keep it in.
“Daaaaddy!” It’s loud and keening and you’re sure everyone on the other side of the wall hears.
But it’s all Mingyu needs and one, two, three, brutal thrusts later, he’s spilling deep into you, fucking you through his orgasm.
Your eyes fly open as he rubs at your clit with his thumb while he pulls out and slaps at your puffy clit before he brings your face close and presses back in for a long, deep kiss.
When he pulls away and meets your eyes there’s a mean glint in them and a shit eating grin that is almost frustrating enough to bring you back to tears.
“See baby, if you’d been good, I’d have made you come.”
“B-but! I was good, daddy! I was so good for you!” He settles you back down on wobbly legs and tucks himself back into his uniform.
You’re looking at him in indignation, tears brimming at eyes, threatening to fall. Mingyu’s eyes soften as he brushes the tears away with large thumbs and tucks your hair behind your ears.
It’s a futile attempt to have you looking presentable but your smudged lip gloss and the mess at the back of your head are enough to sell you both out for your halftime activities.
“Being good means not touching what belongs to daddy when he’s not there.”
All you can do is huff. He’s right.
You’re trying to fix how your jersey (a custom pink version of the Diamonds’ home jersey) is tucked into your skirt when you catch Mingyu picking something up from the floor.
It’s your underwear.
“Gimme!” You pout, trying to reach for it. But all Mingyu has to do is raise it above his head and it’s impossible for your to retrieve the flimsy lace
“I think I’ll keep this one for now,” he starts, “Think of it as a lucky charm.”
He unrolls the flimsy fabric and folds it into a small square, tucking it into his compression shorts and tightening up the drawstring of his uniform.
“If you want to be good for daddy tonight, you’ll keep all my cum inside of you, won’t you?” He says sweetly, talking you through the idea he’s suddenly come up with, “then daddy will win this game and fuck you with my medal on.”
After trying to get both of you presentable again, you slip out of the auxiliary locker room hand in hand just two minutes over Seungcheol’s initial 10 minute deadline.
You greet the team as they all line up again to return to the pitch and smile proudly as Mingyu talks to his teammates about feeling more relaxed and ready to play. You don’t miss the way he lets go of your hand just to wrap an arm around your waist, hand resting just on the curve of your ass as you two pass the players of the opposite team.
“Good luck, daddy. Come back to me a champion, please.” You bat your eyelashes at him and press the most innocent of kisses to his cheek.
The sweet moment is interrupted by an exuberant, “OKAY! LET’S GO!” from Hoshi.
You roll your eyes at him playfully but give in when he asks for a fist bump and says, “Tiny, thank you as always for your invaluable contribution to the Diamonds.”
You head off to where Hoshi’s girlfriend is seated, opting to be surrounded by friends and fans alike, but not before hearing the two teammates’ exchange.
“You ready to show them up, rockstar?” Is Hoshi’s jest.
Mingyu can only laugh and say, “Fuck you.”
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And show them up he does. Just 6 minutes back on the pitch and Mingyu reminds everyone why he’s one of South Korea’s most prolific strikers. With an assist from Jeonghan Mingyu is lighting fast as he performs one of his signature moves and sends the ball flying to the top left corner of the goal.
You scream your throat hoarse as you watch him run across the pitch towards a camera, pointing and kissing the diamond crest on his chest.
Not long after that Mingyu nets a freekick from just beyond the penalty box, equalizing the game. With so much at stake and still so many minutes on the clock, you can hardly breathe easily, knowing it could still go either way. And it does. 
At the 80th minute the opposition scores their third goal and you could practically feel the Diamonds’ crowd deflating, fearing a repeat of the previous year.
“They can still equalize, I’m sure of it,” you hear Hoshi’s girlfriend from beside you, “As long as Soonyoung doesn’t fuck up and your boyfriend produces another one of his miracles, we can take this to penalties.”
You groan. You hate penalties, but you know how much this match means to Mingyu and the team.
Despite the possibilities, the game has gone into injury time and the crowd around you already look like they’re ready to pack up but sticking around just in case.
The majority of the players are crowded around the opponents’ goal, desperate feet hoping to score or hoping to defend. At this point some of the opposite side’s players are just trying to kill time to secure their win.
Hoshi is yelling orders from along the Diamonds’ midfield, abandoning his goal with the confidence that his teammates will surely take another goal. 
But time just about stops when the Diamonds are awarded a corner. Jeonghan looks like he’s dragging his feet about taking it, walking away to have someone else take the kick. But in a split second he turns back to kick the ball in a beautiful arch that meets none other than Mingyu’s right foot to take a third goal.
Hat trick.
Penalties are an awful cruel thing for any football fan, you think. Even after over ninety minutes a winner still isn’t decided and it falls down to each team’s five penalty takers and their goalkeepers.
Hoshi’s girlfriend is in hysterics next to you, gripping your hand like a lifeline. Mingyu had been the first to take his penalty, the ball floating almost gracefully and finding itself out of the keeper’s reach in a split second.
The score was at 4-3 with the Diamonds in the lead after Seungkwan’s attempt had found the back of the net neatly. If their opponents miss this, the championships would be theirs.
This all falls down to their captain.
Hoshi has always been so dependable and today is no exception. The very second he deflects that fifth and final attempt, cheers erupted in every direction and the final whistle is blown. 
The Diamonds won the Korean FA Cup.
The players, the coaches, and press flood the pitch and white confetti erupts around you. Before you know it your seatmate has vanished. She’s running across the pitch to jump into Hoshi’s arms, kissing away the tears pouring down his face, the team captain overcome with emotion.
Jealousy flares in your chest and you try to look everywhere for Mingyu. You stand indignantly, looking all over for him when you’re reminded of gravity.
The intensity of the match and the anxiety at its uncertainty had taken your mind away from your mid-match tryst with Mingyu and from the fact that he had come so deeply inside of you that it was only now that you were standing and pacing and you could feel the thick, sticky seed moving inside of you, threatening to drip out of your hole. You didn’t even have any underwear to catch it and sop up the mess, the lace neatly folded and tucked into Mingyu’s own underwear. 
You stamp your foot and a whine pathetically when you feel someone come up behind you. You quickly turn to see that, amidst the chaos, Mingyu had found you.
You’d only been away from each other for an hour but in that hour he had become a champion and that fact alone had changed him. He looked like some Greek hero with how he stood with pride painted on his face and how his handsome smirk screamed winner.
God, you needed to suck his cock. 
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Luckily for you, Mingyu had the same idea. With the flurry around the win and the podium and carpets still being set up, the captain, manager, and executives still giving interviews, Mingyu knows everyone will be busy and he has time to whisk you away before anyone will even notice he’s gone.
That’s how you end up in the team’s main locker room, still a bit messy from the half time huddle, kneeling in front of Mingyu’s locker and choking on his cock.
“That’s right, baby. Take it slow so you can take more daddy in your mouth,” is his sweet encouragement before he takes the bottle of champagne next to him and takes a long swig.
You’re transfixed, blinking teary eyes to clear them, just so you don’t have to look away from the sight in front of you.
Mingyu had stripped everything off, feeling like he was overheating from the match he’d just played. He sat like a king, leaning back against his locker, spreading his legs and propping one leg up on the bench. He’d popped open a bottle of champagne and pressed the mouth of the bottle to your lips, watching the alcohol overflow from your mouth and drip down your chin to your neck and down your chest.
He kisses you shortly after, tasting the Moët on your tongue and pushing you down onto your knees.
There’s no need to preface anything because in no time you’re gagging on him. It doesn’t take much to have you drooling all over him, his cock so much bigger than what you should actually have in your mouth.
“You can fuck my throat, daddy, please please please!” You gasp out as he pulls you off of him so you can take in a deep breath.
“I know baby,” he says before taking another swig of that champagne, your eyes following the way his Adam's apple bobs. 
He leans down to bring the bottle to your mouth and says, “tongue out, my filthy girl.”
Your spit is thick and sticky in your mouth and you make a show of it when you follow his orders. He wraps a hand around your throat to steady you as he pours champagne into your mouth again, not caring about how much falls down the side of your mouth and dampens your jersey.
He leans back, pleased with the indulgent mess before him, and grabs at the hair at the crown of your head to pull you back down on his cock.
You’re a dream. You had been so good, so obedient at learning to take his cock over the years, and now he’s sure he’s molded himself into your throat the same way he’s made your pussy perfect for only him.
“My perfect girl’s got the most perfect mouth, huh?” He’s holding you down onto him, keeping your head in place, “The filthiest fucking mouth and its all for dad’s cock.”
The noises are disgusting. With your mouth full you can’t say anything but you’re happy just to listen to him come undone. Your spit and his pre-cum gather at the sides of your mouth but you don’t want to stop until he’s pumping his sticky cum onto your tongue.
You pull off of him to lave your tongue over his balls, sucking on one and then the other before saying, “Daddy, I think I deserve to drink your cum, right?”
Mingyu swears under his breath, somehow still not believing how lucky he got with you, your depraved mind the only one that can match his own.
He downs the rest of the champagne and moves to kiss you, sharing the drink. You gulp down what you can before going back down on him, holding down his hips as the muscles beneath your fingers jerk as he fills your mouth. 
Mingyu comes in thick ropes of sticky hot cum that you almost have trouble swallowing, but daddy trained you to be a good girl, thankful for everything she gets. So you swallow every single drop, proudly showing Mingyu your empty mouth.
“Atta girl.”
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You try to be on your best behavior and good for Mingyu for the rest of the evening. You’re the picture-perfect girlfriend watching and cheering proudly as he gets his gold medal and the team cheers in unison once Hoshi lifts the trophy above his head. The pictures are taken and the interviews are given but there’s only so much you can take and by the time Mingyu has you buckled up into his car, you’re feeling unnecessarily bratty.
“Baby,” Mingyu starts. You’re some fifteen minutes away from his house and he’s about to get into it now?
“Mm,” is your petulant response.
“Listen to me,” he warns.
But it almost comes as an instinct to you to retaliate, having the most fun when you two go back and forth like this.
“Don’ wanna.”
From the corner of your eye you see his jaw harden.
“Didn’t daddy fill you up, today?” He says as more of a statement.
“He did.”
“Didn’t daddy feed you his come, princess?”
You start to flush, “He did.”
“And then didn’t daddy say he was going to fuck you with his medal on if he won the championships?”
He’s pulling up to his house now and you almost let out a sigh of relief.
“He did,” you answer.
He parks and turns to you, “Then you are going to get out of this car and head up to our room and you are going to strip yourself naked.”
You’ve been waiting for this. Finally, away from any prying eyes and ears, no matter how accepting, you can finally let loose and have him every way you want him.
“Daddy will park the car and unload the stuff and when I come into the room I better see that messy pussy served up for me.”
There’s buzzing in your ears and you bite your lips.
“Of course, daddy.”
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It starts with your good intentions, really.
You had asked him kindly to lay back against the pillows and the headboard promising that you were going to be real good, daddy, I promise! And that you were so proud of him, that he was so yummy on the field and of course he was going to be the winner.
You wanted to reward him, said that daddy deserves to be ridden to have your tits in his face, to be spoiled.
To be fair, it was a valiant effort on your end. Once he’d settled into bed, you squealed and threw yourself over him, chest to chest as you rubbed your bare pussy onto his cock.
You were aching to be stuffed but you know how sloppy and wet he likes your pussy to be. And through his cum from earlier today was smeared all over your cunt and thighs, you knew you could do better for him.
You pressed kisses to his chest while running your hands over the dips and divots, the hardness and softness of his chest and abs and sighed dreamily as you met his eyes through thick lashes, “I love you daddy, I’m so happy for you.”
“I love you too, baby. I’m happy I made you happy,” was his simple response.
You bit your lip at the elation that filled your chest and you pressed a quick kiss to the gold medal resting on his chest. You stood on your knees on either side of his hips and kept one hand on his stomach to steady yourself as you lined his cock with your entrance.
The delicious stretch and resistance was still there as you sank down on him, his own spend mixing with your slick, making the slide delicious.
He couldn’t keep his eyes off how your pussy split open to take all of him. The pace is slow and your whimpers of “Daddy, daddy, daddy” made his head spin.
But while slow and romantic was good, it was always just how your love making started. This was all before your thighs had grown tired and your lower back started to hurt.
Mingyu tried to talk you through it, guide your hips on how to grind just right for the head of his cock to press against that spot inside of you. Even his encouragement of you can do it, pretty, daddy’s tired is futile when you finally cry out.
“But daddyyyyy,” comes the high pitched whine, “I’M TIRED TOO. Don’t you feel bad for your baby?”
And he breaks at that.
He sits up and flips the two of you over without even pulling out and your eyes roll as the movements jostle him inside of you.
The anticipation is reaching its boiling point when lifts one leg and places it over his shoulder and pulls out of you to rest his cock on your sopping cunt.
He loves this. It’s fucking sick, but he loves to see how big he is compared to your little hole. He loves to see the head of his cock aligned with your belly button and how you clench around nothing, already missing him inside you.
Before he decides to push his cock back inside you he grasps himself by the base and rubs harshly at your entrance and clit with the engorged head of his cock. It makes you squeal as the rough stimulation shocks your system.
He had left you hanging during half time, with only just enough time for him to fill you up, and you had been too preoccupied blowing him to rub yourself to completion after the match.
But the blessed feeling of an orgasm is finally bubbling back onto the surface now that Mingyu was focusing on your pleasure.
“You’ll give me this, right, baby?” He says pulling you back to him. He wants you to be present, to know how he’s making your body tick, “Be my good girl and wet my cock, daddy wants this pussy to be dripping when he fucks it.”
You whimper in acknowledgment and he speeds up his ministrations, the stimulation getting to him as well as beads of pre-cum mix with your slick and eventually, the spray of your cum squirting out of you messily. 
Your moan is music to his ears and you cry out as he pushes his cock into you, not giving you even a second of respite.
With both hands free, Mingyu positions both of your legs over his shoulders, your stupid frilly socks tickling his ears. This position is a favorite for the both of you. He loves how deep he can fuck you like this, the head of his cock kissing your cervix. And you love how when you put your hand just under your belly button, you can see and feel how his cock moves inside you.
“Fuck, look at you,” he says all too breathless, “So fucking perfect.” The sweat beading on his face falls on your temples and you want to cry — what a waste not to taste him on your tongue.
“My perfect little cocksleeve, that I made just for me, isn’t that right. Fuck.” He’s losing it and God do you want him to fall apart.
He pulls away slightly and laughs to himself a little when he sees how his medal, still around his neck, is resting on your chest, bouncing slightly as he continues to fuck into you. What a sight. And only his.
What a day it’s been for him to have woken up in this very bed alone and just another football player hoping for a dream to come true. And to end up here now, in the same bed with you calling out to him like a litany of prayers and his champion’s medal sitting between your tits, bite marks on the flesh contrasting prettily against the yellow gold.
He bites his lip and focuses on your bodies and how you can barely get the word ‘daddy’ out coherently, mumbling dadd-da-daddy-dad unintelligibly. He does you a kindness and presses a hand down where your smaller one is, and thrusts hashly, loving the way you clench around him as you finally reach a second peak. The vice grip your pussy has on his cock is enough to push him over the edge as well, spilling another load into you and your eyes flutter shut.
Mingyu doesn’t pull out of you but sets your legs down and massages the insides of your thighs because he knows you’ll complain about them tomorrow.
He slips off his medal and sets it on the bedside table next to your phones.
After arranging your bodies to be more comfortable, he presses soft kisses on your ear and into your hair, chuckling slightly as you mumble in your sleep that it tickles. 
Mingyu can’t help but keep that smile even as he settles down. It feels so good to be a winner.
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-`✮´- if you've come this far, thank you and it'd mean the world to get a reblog or to hear your thoughts on my first fic on here!
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jazzyoranges · 1 year
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Save a horse, ride a cowboy
Tara Carpenter x fem!reader (r is also implied to be more masculine-leaning)
Summary: Tara rides you 🤷‍♀️ no Ghostface au
Words: 3.5k
A/n: the card game they play is called “do or drink” so if you don’t understand the rules here, search it up and it’ll probably make more sense
Warnings: G!P reader, explicit sex, unprotected sex (you pull out dw), blowjob, face fucking, Tara lowkey has a size kink, R has a praise kink lol, service top!R, power bottom!T (i think? idk positions that well)
MINORS DNI!!
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Tara didn’t really feel like being at this party. Unfortunately for her, she was a victim of peer pressure by Mindy. The twin said something about “getting laid” and how Tara needed to “get some”, but in all honesty, she wasn’t actually listening
The party she was at was cowboy/southern-themed, and Tara opted to wear some plaid and a white crop top. Chad went fully cowboy, through. Tara said he looked like a dork, but his eyes were set on looking like someone from Red Dead Redemption. The brunette didn’t know how he did it, but Chad didn’t even look half bad. Tara swears he has a superpower at looking stupid and not stupid at the same time
Mindy on the other hand, did the least. The twin adorned a black shirt and a brown leather jacket with southern-ish accessories
Chad didn’t bother knocking or ringing the bell over the loud music, and he let himself, Mindy, and Tara into the house. There was a familiar smell in the house. Weed and alcohol absolutely flamed her nostrils, and she scrunched up her nose. When Tara’s eyes landed on you, she swore you were a goddess straight from Texas heaven
“Mindy.”
“I see her, Tara”
“Mindy.”
“No straight woman wears a wife beater. You’re in the clear”
In Tara’s favor, Chad yelled your name and waved you over
“Mindy, Tara, this is Y/N! She coached me back in Woodsboro. She’s also from Texas, so i invited her to show up all the fake cowboys like me” The football player slung an arm around your shoulder, and you held out your hand for the two girls to shake
“Nice to meet you two” Your accent was practically nonexistent, but certain words have you away. When your hand meets Tara’s, yours engulfs hers and she swears she can feel her heart beating in her throat
“Chad speaks well of y’all”
“Really? I’m surprised” Mindy laughs, but Tara is too busy sweating over you to engage in conversation
“I’m gonna introduce Y/N to the rest of our friend group, i’ll see you two around!”
“Have a good night, you two” You tip your hat with a wink, and follow after Chad
“So, wanna explain?” Mindy sends a knowing glance at Tara, a small smirk on her face
“Absolutely not.” The shorter girl makes her way into the kitchen, pouring herself a solo cup of whatever alcohol she can find. Tara chooses to ignore the burning sensation down her throat
“Nope, you’re going to talk right now. I didn’t even know you were into women like her”
“Neither did i, that’s the problem” Tara groans, covering her face with her hands
“What’s the plan?”
“There is no plan, Mindy. I don’t even know how to get close to her…” Eros or Aphrodite must’ve been listening real close because not a second later, she sees you being dragged around by Chad, rounding up a few people to play a drinking card game
“Tara! Mindy! Play drinking games with us? Ethan, Quinn, Y/N, Amber, Wes, Anika, Liv, a few other people and i are playing”
Mindy nods, and they follow you two to the living room, where all the aforementioned people were sitting. Some on the couch and some on the floor. You took your spot on the floor with Chad on your left, and Quinn on your right on the couch.
Chad clears his throat, and all eyes are on him. “Alright! Rules are simple. Everyone has to draw a white card, and do what it says. If you get a white card that says ‘Draw’, you have to get a black card and either do what it says, or drink however much it tells you. Make sense?”
The group nods, and small discussions are made between people. Tara is seated between Mindy, who’s talking to Anika, and Ethan, who’s talking to Chad
“Since i’m the one that wanted to play, i will graciously go first” Chad pulls his white card, and his face lights up. “War! Challenge another player to an arm wrestle. The loser must drink”
The twin gets up, and he points straight at your forehead. “Y/N! This cowboy challenges you in a duel of our arms!”
“How could i say no. I agree to your challenge, my good sir” You shake hands, and make your way to the coffee table in the middle of the room. Tara is on your right, and you give her a perfect view of your bicep
“You look nervous, Chad. Are you afraid?”
“You can’t teach an old dog new tricks. Therefore, the student always wins” he smiles at you, and your competitive side starts to bubble up
“When i win, i’ll make sure to spoon feed you your own words” readjusting your grip on Chad’s hand, Ethan makes his way over to be the referee
“Three…”
Tara notices your concentrated face, and how you bite your lip in anticipation
“Two…”
You adjust your grip once again, and Tara wonders what else your hands can do
“One!” Ethan lets go of yours and Chad’s attached hands, and they both stay in place. Tara can tell you two were pretty evenly matched
“C’mon, Y/N! Gag him!” Mindy cheers for you
“Don’t listen to her, babe. You got this!” Liv cheers for Chad
“Show him up, Y/N! You’ve got it” Tara cheers with a smile on her face, and you momentarily stop pushing before you catch yourself
“What’s the matter, Y/N? Losing already?”
“We’ll see” When you hear Tara say your name again, a new urge to win rushes through your body. In one swift motion, Chad’s hand meets the table, and those who were supporting you cheer
“What did you say about the student always winning?” You say with a wide grin on your face, and you kiss your arm in a show of ego
“That was a fluke! I want a rematch!” The twin says playfully
“Like you wouldn’t just lose again”
“Whatever, it’s your turn to draw”
You pick up a card, and you laugh to yourself. “Vote! On the count of three, everyone points to the person they think has had sex in the most interesting spot. The player with the most votes must confess their sex spot and take a drink”
“Alright! Three, two, one!” You count down, and mostly everyone is mostly pointing at Quinn
“Geez, what do you guys think of me?” She takes a sip of her drink. “And my most interesting spot was under the bleachers during his football practice”
This goes on until it’s Tara’s turn. Amber got an “All brunettes must drink” card, Anika got to be Simon in Simon Says (which Tara had to drink for losing first), and Mindy drew a card that made all of the single people drink. Luckily for Tara, you drank when Mindy pulled her card
“Your turn, Tara! What’ll you get?” Chad quickly made himself the keeper of cards, sitting in the middle as you sat on the couch in his place. Tara leans over, and she takes a card from Chad. Revealing her card, she see’s it says to draw
“Our very first ‘Draw’ card! I wonder what it’ll be” Chad grins, and Tara pulls a black card from the deck
“Spin a bottle. Whoever it lands on, sit on their lap for the next 2 rounds or both must drink four times”
Oohs are exchanged throughout the group, and Tara rolls her eyes in embarrassment. Less than a second later, Chad hands Tara an empty beer bottle. The twin takes his spot somewhere in the circle, and the brunette spins the bottle
“I’ll pray it lands on her” Mindy playfully nudges her shoulder, and Tara blushes. Neither of you knew it, but both you and the brunette hoped the bottle ended up pointing at you. It went around once, twice, three times
Slowly passing by the person to your right, the bottle points straight at you and you swear time stops for a second. Tara meets your eyes, and you swear she’s blushing when Mindy shoves her towards you
Tara awkwardly sits on your lap, moving to find a comfortable spot
You place a reassuring hand on her hip. “You know you don’t have to do this, right? If you’re uncomfortable, nobody is gonna judge you” Tara can feel your hand leave her side, and the smaller girl has to physically stop herself from letting out a whine of frustration
“I’m not uncomfortable. I just… need to adjust.” The brunette not-so-accidentally grinds her hips against yours, and she swears she hears you let out a tiny groan
It’s Wes’ turn next, but Tara can’t focus as she gropes around the couch for your hands. The alcohol in her system takes over when she leans back into you, and makes you wrap your arms around her torso. You happily oblige
“You having a good night, so far?”
Tara decides to be bold. “It’s definitely better in your lap”
Despite your semi-hard cock uncomfortably rubbing against your jeans, you try your best to learn more about Tara. Asking how her day was, what she’s majoring in, if she has any family; all while the brunette causes more friction by slowly rubbing her ass on your crotch. You have to suppress many moans as she not-so-casually grinds on you
Tara learns that you used to work on a family farm in Texas, but moved to California for college. You told her about the animals, the pumpkin patches, and looking up at the stars with your siblings
Not even noticing it’s your turn again, Chad has to remind you to draw a card. You instantly miss Tara’s heat when she crawls off your lap so you can draw a card. The game goes on for the next hour or so, and you can barely remember what you had to do after all the drinks you’ve had
You end up having to quit the game halfway through when you refuse to send a nude photo of yourself to a random number or take a drink. Tara’s card no longer applies very early on, but she actively decides to sit in your lap for the rest of the game
Amber kicks out the rest of the party-goers around 1 am, and you’ve been tasked to drive Tara and Mindy home. Somehow you’re the least drunk. Since Chad was their ride and he’s off somewhere making out with Liv, you so graciously offered to drive them home.
The ride to Mindy’s house was quiet, but it was a comfortable quiet. You tapped on the steering wheel to the soft music, Mindy was half asleep, and Tara was discreetly trying to look at you from the passenger seat. You dropped Mindy off at her place, and now you were on your way to Tara’s house. The moonlight was hitting your eyes in the right way, causing them to sparkle the tiniest bit Tara had a little staring problem
“Do i have something on my face?”
“Do you want to stay over at my place?” The brunette blurts out, instantly regretting her words. “I mean- uh, if you want…”
“Sure, i’d like to stay over. I’m pretty sure i have some extra clothes in here, anyway. Any scary dogs i should beware of?”
“Does my sister count?”
“Only if she bites” This earns a laugh from Tara, and you mentally pat yourself on the back
“Definitely beware of her. She’s staying at her boyfriends place tonight, so you’re good”
“Noted” You pull into the Carpenters driveway, and both of you get out. Grabbing an extra hoodie, shirt, and shorts, you follow Tara into her house
“Bathroom is on the left. Do you want to watch a movie?”
“Sure, you can pick”
“You’re gonna wish you never said that. Let’s watch The Babadook”
“Seriously? Dude, i used to jump like six feet in the air when the floor boards creaked in the barn”
“You’ll live” Rolling your eyes at her words, you made your way to her bathroom to change. You made sure to freshen up, even though you two were just watching a movie. The smell of buttered popcorn filled your lungs and you could faintly hear the popping kernels
When you leave her bathroom, Tara’s already changed into something more comfortable
“Do we have to watch something scary? Can’t we watch a sitcom or something?”
“Listen, you let me decide but we don’t have to if you don’t wanna” Tara finds her seat on the couch, your shoulders touching when she sits down the bowl of popcorn between you two
“But i will think you’re a pussy”
“The Babadook it is” You click play on the remote, and Tara lays her head on your shoulder. She barely pays attention to the movie, considering she’s seen it far too many times. Instead, the brunette opts to watch you and all of your reactions. You’ve raised the blanket up under your nose and leaned into Tara about 20 times, and the movie is just about halfway through
Every now and again you’d flinch in anticipation, and Tara would rub your thigh in support. You don’t know if your heart is beating due to the movie, or due to Tara practically being on top of you for the second time this night
When the movie ends and the credits roll, you can only stare at the black screen and Tara lets out a laugh
“So, what do you think?”
“I don’t think i’ll be able to sleep tonight, Tara”
“You’ll be okay” The brunette pats your cheek
“Can we watch something lighter? Like My Little Pony?”
“Of course you were a horse girl”
“Actually i was an Equestria Girls girl, thank you” You huff
“Tomato, potato, they were all ponies” Tara rolls her eyes, and smiles “I think i have another horror movie you’ll like. Well, it’s technically a trilogy”
“Absolutely not! I’d like to be able to close my eyes tonight and not hallucinate a monster leaning over me”
“There’s a scene where two girls kiss”
“…Fine.”
An hour in, the two main girls are making out in their bras, and you’re staring quite intensely at the scene. Something in the room shifts, and all of a sudden you start to feel hotter. Tara goes from rubbing your thigh to slowly dragging her hand to your crotch, leaving a trail of goosebumps behind. Your breath hitches when she starts to rub your clothed cock
“A-Are we about to do the thing?” You say unsure, but the brunette is already pulling you off the couch and leading you to her room
Before you know what’s happening, Tara is guiding you into her bedroom and pushing you up against a wall. Her kisses are hungry and fast, wanting to taste every part of you. When she starts to fiddle with your shorts, you let out a small laugh at how she huffs in frustration
“Take it off, already.”
“Someone’s needy” You tease
“I’ve been eye fucking you all night. I’m not waiting any longer. I had to drag you here myself”
“I didn’t know if i was reading your signals wrong…” You mumble, and Tara hates how adorable you look. God why were you cute and hot at the same time
“I was grinding on you the entirety of those two rounds at the party”
“You said you were adjusting! I thought my lap was uncomfortable!”
“I hate how the oblivious ones are always the hottest.” Tara finally manages to pull down your shorts through shaky hands, and she feels her mouth water when she sees the small tent in your underwear
“Spider-man boxers?” the shorter girl quirks an eyebrow at you
“I didn’t think i’d have sex tonight” You suck in a breath when Tara starts to rub your cock through your boxers
“Really? You didn’t think you’d get laid tonight looking like this” Tara motions to your entire body with her non-busy hand. “Maybe i should show you how pretty you are. Do you want that, baby?” The brunette squeezes your cock; and you nod, not trusting your voice to do anything but moan
As she gets on her knees, Tara pulls down your boxers just enough to reveal your hardened dick
“Jesus, you’re big…” The brunette says to herself, but you can feel your ego boost at her words. Tara starts to lick the veins on your shaft, and you can feel her massaging your balls. Your cock is drooling pre-cum when Tara kisses your tip, and you let out a breathy moan
“Please, Tara…”
“Tell me what you want, baby”
“Please let me fuck your mouth”
“Let me adjust to your size first. I’ll let you know when you can start, does that sound good?”
“A-Anything you want”
“You’re cute.” Tara kisses your tip again before taking it into her mouth, eliciting a moan from your throat. She swirls her tongue in a way that drives your crazy. Her hands make their way around your thighs, and Tara squeezes your ass as she takes half your cock into her mouth. The brunette squeezes your balls and you hear her gag as her nose meets your lower abdomen. The sight of Tara deepthroating your cock almost makes you cum
“Fuck.” You breathe out. You try backing away to give Tara a little room to breathe but she just ends up making you thrust into her mouth, making her gag. You pull her face away from your cock not wanting her to choke, and the shorter girl wipes a little drool off her chin
“Why’d you do that?” Tara asks, a little annoyed
“I didn’t want you to run out of breath. Your eyes were watering”
“It’s nice how much you care about me. I can assure you i can handle your cock, baby. It helps you taste good”
“If it ever gets too much or becomes uncomfortable, squeeze my hand” You tuck a strand of hair behind her ear, and Tara’s heart flutters at how soft you’re being despite the situation
“I promise i’ll let you know if it starts to become too much, baby” The brunette kisses your tip once again and dives right back into sucking your dick. When you look down and she gives you a small nod, your hands tangle in her hair. You start off with small thrusts, slowly going faster as Tara gets used to your size
“F-Fuck you’re amazing” Your balls slap against her chin, and Tara almost cums at how dirty it feels having you fuck her throat like a fleshlight
“Shit, i’m gonna cum, Tara…” You moan, and the brunette gives you a pleading look. You can only assume it means ‘Please cum down my throat’, so that’s exactly what you do. You release your load in her mouth with a groan, and Tara happily swallows all of it down. When she pulls away from your cock, you use your thumb to wipe away the leftover cum on her chin. Tara takes your thumb in her mouth, and licks away the rest of your semen
She gets off her knees, and gets up to pull you into another searing kiss. You can taste yourself on her tongue, and you moan into her mouth at the flavor
“Jesus, you’re still hard?”
“I have the stamina of a stallion” You shrug, feigning a big ego
“Oh, yeah? How about i ride you and we’ll see if you can handle it”
“You have such a beautiful way with words”
“I’d be mad about the teasing of you weren’t cute. Hurry up and get naked, already”
“Yes ma’am” Barely a second passes before Tara’s lips are on yours. In a flurry of heat, both of your clothes end up strewn about her bedroom. Tara pushes you onto her bed. She straddles your lap and kisses you with a new wave of confidence and fervor. When the brunette urges you to lay back, you have to actively keep your jaw closed at the sight of Tara. Unfortunately for you, she notices your staring
“Take a picture, it’ll last longer”
“Can i really?”
“Mm… maybe next time”
Your face lights up. “Next time?”
“After you take me on a date first. We can talk about the specifics later” Tara softly kisses the bridge of your nose, making you close your eyes and blush
“Right now, i want you in me.” The brunette on top of you lines up your tip with her pussy, slowly sinking down your shaft
“Fuck,” Tara takes the rest of your cock in her, and you massage her hips when you can feel her squeezing around you “You feel so good, baby”
Noticing how you moan at her praise, Tara takes note of this. She starts to move up and down, and the feeling of her around you earns a whimper from your throat. Moans are exchanged as Tara starts to ride you faster, constantly increasing her pace
“I’m close, Tar” You breathe out, letting her nickname slip through your lips
“Fuck i am too, baby. You’re so big” Her words are reinforced as she starts to tighten around your cock, and you have to use all your strength to pull out. You ejaculate your cum all over your stomach, and so does Tara. When you both come down from your high, the brunette notices how you’re still somehow hard
“Round two?”
A/n pt.2: cookie if you can guess the second movie they watch
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afterglowkatie · 27 days
Text
pair of pests: missing you ˏˋ°•*⁀ steph catley x catley!reader, short fic/blurb
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steph catley x catley!reader | 1.1k | based off of this ask
ˏˋ°•*⁀ just a little warning that it involves like themes of grief/grieving and the mentions of a loss of a loved one
You were in your mid teens when your dad passed away. It was hard on you, it was hard on your whole family. But you all stuck together and gave each other the support you all needed. Specifically your older sister had been there for you, fulfilling her older sister duties. You gave what you could give back to Steph, though the age difference meant that she could support you more than you could give to her. 
Eventually everyone had to go back on with their own lives. Part of you felt stuck, since your sister wasn’t around all that much focusing on her career and playing overseas a few years, you’d grown quite close with your dad. You’d had a close bond, he had been supporting your youth career in football since Steph had less time to spend with you and less time to support you, though you know she was doing her best and you’d never fault Steph.
You tried to move on, continue with school and youth football, but everything had been associated quite heavily with your dad. The drive to training wasn’t the same, your mum tried but you couldn’t stop thinking about the endless car karaoke you’d have with your dad on the way. Whenever you’d get stuck with your homework you’d forget and go to find your dad before you’d have the sudden realisation that you couldn’t do that anymore. You’d never forget the late nights where your dad wouldn’t stop til he was able to help you with anything you couldn’t understand.
Steph did her best to help you through it, but it was hard when you stopped opening up to her until the night before her surgery when you broke down scared that something would happen and you’d lose her as well. Every year since, you always had a hard time around the anniversary of his passing. Even if you didn’t realise the date was coming up, your body knew and would send you into a spiral. Your stomach constantly felt heavy and nauseous all the time. Your mood always dropped, even if you didn’t notice it, but you’d go quiet and barely interact with anyone other than Steph or your mum.
This year was no different. In fact it was a lot harder. You had properly started playing football with your older sister at the same club. It was a dream that you’d always talked to your dad about, it had turned into both yours and your dads dream to see it happen one day. Though back then you didn’t know that it would ever happen and you didn’t know that if it did, he wouldn’t even get to see it.
Steph, being focused with the upcoming olympics and thoughts of captaining her country through it, she’d been distracted and not noticed that time of year was fast approaching. She only realised when she noticed you’d always seek Steph out, especially during training, glued to her side. Any other time you’d be out annoying Mini alongside Kyra and Charli.
You’d been a part of the world cup squad the year before, so the team were quite aware of how you react this time of year. They all kept a bit of space around you, not pushing you to interact as much, but they did little things to try to cheer you up and make it easier for you. The teammates you were close with at club level would send you little messages throughout the days. You appreciated the efforts your national and club teammates would go to for you.
Steph was really the only person who could make you feel better. She was your sister and in a way it felt like she was the closest connection you still had to your dad, ‘You doing okay?’ Your sister asked while she pulled you into her room and into her arms. You couldn’t sleep and had found your way to the room your sister was staying in.
You didn’t actually reply, knowing that if you spoke the walls you had up would break down and you’d crumble. Not something you really wanted to happen. Part of you felt silly for still feeling and reacting this way. It’d been years now and you felt that you should’ve found a way to cope that wasn’t disconnecting from everyone around you. Truth was you lost your dad young and had to grow up a bit faster than you should’ve and no one would blame you for how you’re reacting. No one but yourself.
Instead of talking, you tightly wrapped your arms around Steph, hiding your face in her neck. Steph could feel how tense you were and your silence spoke louder than any words could’ve. Your older sister understood you and you couldn’t be more thankful, ‘Can we watch a movie? One of his favourites?’ 
Steph knew the right movie to put on that would bring you some sense of comfort. Slipping into her bed, pulling you so you were lying cuddled against her side. Your head met Steph’s shoulder and her hand gently rubbed the top of your arm. It was peaceful, it was comforting. If you pretended hard enough you were a kid again watching movies in your childhood home on a little mini couch that you and your older sister shared while you’d fight with your older brother claiming he was stealing all your popcorn, with your parents on the main couch watching on with amused expressions. Time was cruel.
‘He’d be proud of you, of both of us. You know that right? Especially you. The amount of times he’d end up talking about you whenever we’d call,’ Steph smiled softly, breaking the silence half-way through the movie. She knows what you’re like and doesn’t want you to get too lost in your own thoughts, the older sister nature to protect you and help you deal with things in a more healthy way.
‘When I was little, when you’d first moved overseas to play,’ Your voice was quiet and soft, but loud enough that Steph could hear you. You’d turned a little so you were looking at your sister, ‘I’d always tell dad that my dream was to play in a big club with you. One that wasn’t in Australia. Every night I’d make him wish on the stars for it to happen,’ You smiled softly remembering all the times you’d drag your dad to the window, right before bedtime, looking up at the stars and wishing for your one biggest dream to come true, ‘I think he made sure it happened,’ Tears welled in both your eyes at the thought. You’d always say it was written in the stars that you were playing with Steph at Arsenal now. But now Steph understood the deeper meaning to your words.
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trulyhblue · 7 months
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write the niamh **** i dare you!!!!!!! never knew i was this down bad for her until she came out in the captains armband and i was like…there’s something about this, she is confident and she is hot and respectfully i shouldn’t say any more
Back To You
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Niamh Charles x Aussie! Reader
Warnings: Smut 18+, massive praise kink, degradation, vibrator, thigh-riding, edging, breeding kink, angst, a bit of Man U hate, semi-public themes, coarse language.
A/N — the demand for Niamhy is finally here…. I honestly don't know what came over me. Bit long, hope you enjoy!
__________________
Time after time, you had watched your girlfriend get angry on the pitch.
You had seen her push and shove, swear and tackle. Niamh wasn't an extremely violent person by any means. She could be kind, gentle, loving, and full of empathy, and in most cases, she was. She wasn't always an intolerance on the field, usually keeping the pace instead of arguing and slowing it down. She was determined, you were technical. All relationships aside, the two of you blended well on the field.
But, Niamh was many things that you weren't.
You had joined Chelsea after progressing through the United Academy. You were born in Manchester and grew up playing football. The move down to London was difficult, but you made your WSL debut in the Blues jersey, and have stayed loyal to them ever since. Unlike many of your teammates, you were very shy. You’d much rather carry the ball down the field than give a shot at goal. You liked weaving in between the midfield and opening up opportunities for your teammates rather than pursuing something for yourself. There was a joke among the Football community that you were allergic to the penalty area because you tried to avoid it at all costs.
You were on the younger side of the team as well, meaning you had less experience than some of your friends. The girls were always there to lift you up and support you, but you managed to stay under the radar, behind the inevitable spotlight.
“Ready for today, Y/L/N?” Sam asked, pulling you out of your daze as you laced your boots. The news of your skipper tearing her ACL was fresh in your mind, but her presence in the room still comforting before a game like this.
Millie was opposite you, patting your knee a few times as she chuckled. “Gonna show those reds a masterclass today, aren't ‘ya?”
You blushed at that, staring down at your boots to avoid the bashful compliments you were receiving. You didn't start often, being classed as a constant sub instead. Today, you were starting. It only made you more anxious that it was against your parent club, one that you used to stay loyal to. One that United fans still ridicule you for leaving. You were an anxious person anyway, but a sold-out stadium and a phone full of social media only fueled your apprehension more.
Your teammates knew of this stress you placed on yourself, and what others placed on you. They had told you thousands of times that Chelsea was lucky to have you, but you constantly lacked the confidence to agree with them. You wanted to prove to everyone that you were capable of exceeding expectations.
“Piss off, you two.” You heard a familiar voice snap. “Leave her alone.”
You looked up to find your girlfriend grabbing your hand, pulling you up so she could wrap her arms across your shoulders. You engulfed her usual scent and sighed in contentment, hugging her back with your arms around her waist, your head against her chest.
You heard Sam scoff, the two women giggling to each other like school girls.
“Captain Niamhy to the rescue.” Your usual skipper teased, poking your side. You yelped, and Niamh sent a glare towards Millie. Sam wobbled closer to the two of you, laughing at the blush that painted your cheeks.
“C’mon, Mils. Let's leave these two love birds by themselves.” She chuckled. “Niamhy wants to show off the armband.”
“I’ll take your crutches, Kerr.” Niamh retorted, ignoring the two women as they sauntered off, placing her attention back on you.
You had left her wandering hands, turned towards your cubby, searching your bag for a hair brush. The anticipation of the game was continuously creeping up on you, and Niamh noticed your apprehension from a mile away.
Your breath hitched when you felt your girlfriend’s hands grip your waist, her front pushing up against your arse. Her voice was softer, raspier. Your bent figure made her bend down so that her mouth was level with your ear.
“You're going make me so proud today, aren't you, Baby?”Her tone sent a shiver down your body, her hot breath fanning down your neck. “‘Gonna show everyone how good you are for me?”
You nodded, feeling your throat close at your flustered state. Your face flushed an embarrassing shade of crimson when Niamh pushed you further into your cubby, moving one of her hands down to the inside of your thigh.
“You’ve got to use your words, yeah?” She muttered, maneuvering your arse so it aligned with her front. “I want to hear you on the field today, okay? Even if I'm on the other side. Understood?”
“Yes.” You muttered.
Niamh tutted. “Yes…?”
You felt all your composure start to fizzle down to your core. “Yes, Niamh.”
“Good.”
You were about to groan before Niamh pulled you upright, tightening her grip on your waist once more before leaving a chaste kiss on your forehead. You threw your head back and sighed, trying desperately to compose yourself before anyone questioned you.
You followed the team out onto the pitch, not realising that Niamh’s little stunt was to take your mind off the game. You moved through shaking everyone’s hands with ease, taking your position without a second glance towards anyone.
The whistle blew, and you were off.
Chelsea were determined to prove themselves after the poor efforts of the West Ham game. People were doubting the Blues after Sam’s injury and the girls all wanted everyone to know that they were serious contestants.
You were never predictable in the midfield, despite never really moving in and out of the middle very often. You found yourself creating as many chances as possible, crossing the ball into United’s half to the best of your ability.
The constant booing from United and cheers from Chelsea were a healthy, even mix, heightening the odds of the game as it progressed. You made as many breaks as you could before you felt the air in your lungs deflate when your body hit the floor.
You were slightly winded from the tackle, needing a moment to gather yourself before making the effort to get back up. Katie Zelem was the one stalking away from you, holding in a smug grin when some of the Chelsea girls threw their hands up in contention — your girlfriend included.
You shook the exchange off, hoping Zelem thought you weren't fazed by the late challenge. The crowd spurred the game into a further frenzy, coercing both sides to exacerbate their emotions.
You strained your neck from side to side, picking up the ball that had rolled away and getting ready for your free kick. Fortunately, the penalty was within United’s half, so naturally, Chelsea banked up near the goal, waiting as you began to run. You watched as the ball was sent over the top of most of the players in the direction of Lauren near the goalpost. With a flick of her head, the girl sent the ball hurling past Mary Earps’ head, speeding over to you in celebration as the United fans were up in arms at the assist you just had.
The team surrounded the two of you, hugging each other before making the swift return back to your position. Millie and Guro made a show of patting your head. Lauren shook your shoulders while Erin jumped up and down. You searched the group for Niamh, but frowned when your girlfriend was on the other side of the field.
“What is she doing?” You asked to no one in particular, staring down Niamh as she spoke with the Ref and Zelem.
Erin shrugged, throwing an arm over your shoulder. “Who cares? All you need to worry about is doing more of what you just did.”
You chuckled at the Scottish woman, using your hand to propel her away playfully. Both sides took their positions, ready to start over. United started with the ball, passing back to their defensive line before weaving it forward.
You weren't too pleased with the style of aggression that both teams were playing with, wishing that you’d walk away with a clean win and sheet. You knew from playing with most of the Manchester girls that they were taught to fight back with twice as much wrath if they were placed into a compromised position like this. Millie Turner was marking you non-stop, and Maya metres away from you at all times. You struggled to keep the ball by your feet without someone coming up behind you and snaking away quicker than it arrived. You were growing more and more irritated as the game progressed, causing you to make stupid mistakes and overthink.
Hayley Ladds sent a shot through Hannah’s hands leading into halftime. Lucia Garcia was holding onto your shirt, yanking it back in an effort to stop you from defending. You watched the Manchester girls crowd each other like your team had done at the start of the game.
You had half a mind to stomp over to the group and pull them apart, but as you looked around, you realised the rest of your team wanted to do the same. The continuous physicality of the Reds was not something you were used to. Chelsea had been dominating the league for the most part — this was not something you were expecting.
The halftime whistle blew, calling the game to a temporary halt as both teams made their way to the changing rooms.
You marched over to Hannah, patting her on the back before retrieving the ball. The girls watched you run back to the middle of the field, placing the ball in its starting position and running back. You could hear the fans screaming as your studs hit the concrete floor, yet you kept your head down to drown out your internal disappointment.
On the rare occasion that you did start, you tried your absolute hardest to keep the ball rolling. You were determined to show people that you weren't just a sub, that you were a valuable asset to the team that deserved to be a part of the starting eleven each week. Back home, you played almost every game during the World Cup with the Matildas. When Steph wasn’t Captain, it was either you or Caitlin. When Sam came back, people found out why Chelsea was lucky to have the two of you. You grew up playing alongside your Aussie teammates, so it was no wonder you moulded so well with them.
You just couldn't understand why you couldn't apply yourself here.
You were about to walk into the Changing Rooms when you heard someone call you out from behind. You turned, finding Katie Zelem walking towards you.
“Can't handle a tackle, can you?” She quipped, watching you remove your shin pads from under your socks. “Even Charles thinks so.”
“You're real cocky for fourth on the table.” You retorted, crossing your arms over your chest. “See you in the second half.”
Zelem stepped forward, scoffing. “Thats if you're not subbed off.”
You shrugged, sliding behind the door and slamming it in response. You knew Katie was saying it in the heat of the moment, but it irked you all the same. Off the pitch, you would apologise and probably trade shirts or something. Now, all you were thinking about was staying on that pitch.
The break went by fast, and you hadn't talked to anyone except for Zelem during that short time.
Guro asked if you were alright, but you shook her off. Niamh had caught onto your mood and figured it best to let you internalise what you were feeling.
Walking back onto the pitch with this newfound persistence meant for a different game. You came on wanting this win more than anyone. Despite the contrary belief of fans, people on the internet, Zelem and anyone else, you wanted to prove this to yourself.
The whistle blew, and you sprinted across towards as an attacking mid. You held out your hand when Guro got hold of the ball, darting down the wing near the edge of the field. Soon enough, the ball fell to your feet. You were expecting the cross to be quick in your feat past Toone and Garcia, moving diligently through their backline for the first time that game.
It seemed that both teams were surprised at your spur of movement. No one was used to seeing you near the goals, now all of a sudden you were on your way to scoring one. You heard Lauren beside you in the penalty box, calling for a pass, but you felt your knees give out when unknown studs hit the back of your shin. The decision of a penalty sending everyone to their feet in either disarray or ecstasy. Everyone expected you to cry out in pain when the whistle blew for contact, but you sprawled back onto your feet in a heartbeat, shoving Katie’s shoulder with so much force it nearly sent her toppling backward.
“What's wrong?” Zelem asked, swiping her shirt in order to rid the mud that had tracked her jersey. “Why the grumpy face?”
“You’re an absolute ride-off, you know that?” You spoke, keeping your eyes focused on her.
“I'm not the one always falling—”
“Oh, fuck off, Zelem!” You snapped, loud enough for the Ref to hear, as you sent another potent push towards the United Captain. A yellow was shown to both of you, leaving Katie to storm off and you to contest the card as soon as it was given.
You were about to give the woman a mouthful when someone came up behind you, grabbing the fabric of your jersey and pulling it into their waist.
You looked up to find Niamh making sure you didn't gain a red, moving you away from the scene with a knot between her eyebrows.
“Did you see her knock her over?” Niamh asked the ref, who was shaking her head at you. “She's been on her the entire game. It's been contacted, late challenges the entire time.”
The ref gave your skipper a warning look, enough for both of you to step away. “You’ve been given the penalty.” She simply put it, motioning for the shot to be taken.
You managed to leave Niamh’s grasp, leaning your hands on your hips as you waited for Guro, who was standing not far from you, to take the shot.
“What are you waiting for?” She called out. “You take it.”
It wasn't much of a shock considering you were the signified penalty taker for your National Team, but Guro’s decision still surprised you nonetheless. You found Niamh beside you still, looking at you up and down with a concealed smirk. You were undoubtedly dirty from the amount of time you spent on the floor, your hair slightly chaotic with strands falling from your face. Your cheeks were tinged a stingy red from the demand of the game, and beads of sweat framed your face.
Your appearance reminded Niamh too much of something else, causing her mind to reel at the thoughts of you lying beneath her. There was someone about you today that sent her into a frenzy. Between the two of you, it was usually Niamh who got herself in trouble with the Refs. You weren't ever the one to contest a card — even when you only had a handful — and instead you’d be the one pulling Niamh away from doing just that.
The reversed roles spurred something within the Captain as she watched her girlfriend line herself up to take the Penalty. You were searching the box for somewhere to slot it into, knowing Earps was ready to defend like her life depended on it.
The stadium went into an eerie silence as you heard the whistle mark your turn. You felt the wind propel you forward, using all your might to kick the ball as hard as you could. Watching anxiously, teething in slow motion, you felt your legs carry you across the pitch, cheering when the ball crashed against the back of the net.
Teammates were on your back instantly, hurling you to the floor, screaming amongst the fans. They shook you, congratulating you, the feeling like you had just scored your first-ever goal resurfacing. You clambered up to face the crowd, smiling as a wave of blue rose to their feet.
_
The game ended with Chelsea fans swarming the tunnel, fans reaching their hands down so they’d meet yours. The short circuit around the pitch was full of euphoria. Everyone was reeling at the game, and compliments were showering at the sight of your Player Of the Match award.
“Yeah, the Aussie!” Sam shouted, meeting you in the Changing Rooms with a bone-crushing hug. You laughed at the woman’s energy, letting her sway you back and forth before lifting the trophy up into the air.
Following Sam’s mischief, Millie’s arms snaked around your waist, lifting you up on the spot. “Look at you go, Missy! Making us proud today, aren't ‘ya?”
“Wasn't all me.” You mumbled, cheeks fragmented with a prominent blush as your teammates scoffed and ridiculed your modesty from around the room. To say they were proud was an understatement. Half of them had already posted for social media, Sam letting everyone know that you were a Matilda with a of you with your national flag wrapped across your shoulders and the Player of The Match Trophy, with the caption ‘a smashing Tillie’ on her story.
“I remember your first goal for Australia,” Sam said, pretending to wipe tears from her eyes. You huffed, shoving her slightly.
“That was years ago, Kerr.”
Sam sighed, shaking her head. “I remember it like it was yesterday.”
Your shower was a nice treat for your teething muscles, your sweats and Niamh’s jumper keeping you warm as you packed your bag and waited for Niamh to finish her media duties.
Once you saw her leaving one of the reporter’s sides, you noticed the dark tinge behind her eyes when she met yours. The smirk that aligned her face on the pitch carried itself to now, making its way across her face as she trampled over to where you stood.
Wrapping her arms around your shoulders, shovelling your head into her chest, she groaned, breathing in the scent of your freshly washed as dried hair.
“Ready to go?” you asked, hoping your girlfriend was just as eager to get back to your shared apartment as you were.
“You did so well today, baby.”
You watched Niamh break away from your shared contact, looking at her jumper hugging the curves of your figure, making it known that she’d much rather see you without it instead.
“Want to show you how proud I am.”
She threaded her fingers across the hem of your jumper, tucking her hand underneath the waistband of your trackpants, and toying with the elastic. Your breath hitched at the cold that pricked your skin, hoping Niamh was too preoccupied with her antics to notice the ache between your thighs.
“Niamhy.” You whispered, looking down at the pavement, waiting for your girlfriend to unhook her lingering hands.
“What do you want me to do, Baby? Want me to show everyone here how good you are?”
“Niamh, I—”
“Good girls get rewards, y’know?” Niamh pulled you closer, her hand moving out of your pants and over your arse, giving it a small squeeze before using her arms to lead you towards the car. “Bet you’d enjoy me fucking you for everyone to see. Show everyone who’s slut you are.”
You couldn't reply. If you did, it wouldn't be coherent. You were silent the whole way home, save for the sacred whimper that fell from your lips when Niamh’s hand squeezed your thigh, the distance of her fingers growing closer to where you needed her in each growing second. You could feel the radiation of desire emitting through the car all the way home. You were itching to feel some kind of relief, especially after the stunt your girlfriend had pulled before the game.
You forgot all about Niamh’s actions throughout the game, only remembering it when the waves of arousal moved down to your core. All you could think about was the way Niamh’s fingers ghosted your clit, teasing you with soft patterns across your legs.
When you arrived home, both of you pretty much bolted inside, dropping your bags onto the floor, only just making it to the bed when your lips met hers in an endeavoured embrace.
You let a moan leave your lips when Niamh pushed you onto the bed, crawling on top of you to swallow your unseemly noises with her tongue. The air in the room was thick as you lifted your hips, attempting to grind against her hips for some well-needed friction.
“So desperate, aren't we?” Niamh tutted, holding herself up with her arms to watch your neediness from afar. She licked her lips at the sight of you writhing beneath her. Your thighs clenched together, rubbing together in despairing need. Much to your dismay, Niamh pulled your knees apart, holding them to the bed with her own legs and a potent smile.
“Niamhy, please.” You whined, the lack of touch sending you into a new dimension of misery. Niamh crained her lips to meet your neck, finding solace in your moans when her lips found your sweet spot. She sucked and licked, rolling her tongue around the growing hickey. She held your legs open, leaving no room for friction. Your head faced the ceiling, your eyes clasped shut as you sighed at the hot marks left all over your neck. With your arms, you threaded Niamh’s hair through your hands, pushing her head deeper into your neck, bringing it down near your breasts.
“Good girls use their words, don't they?” Your girlfriend asked, peeling away from your body, leaving a cold absence behind.
You audibly moaned at the loss of contact. “I've already been a good girl. Been so good, and you said I’d get a reward.”
“Been so good for me, haven't you Babygirl?” Niamh smirked, her lips shadowing your ear, teeth nibbling the skin. “Such a good girl for scoring, aren't you? But maybe I should've bent you over during the game. Show everyone what you deserve. To have you bent over and wet for me.”
“Yes, so wet for you.” You replied, squirming as you felt your core drip with arousal. “Just want you so bad, Niamh.”
“Bet you do.” You felt one of her fingers inch up your jumper, letting the cool air nip your skin. You arched your back, feeling a wave of pleasure overcome you when Niamh’s hand met your breast. “Always wanting me to fuck you senseless like you're mine.”
She fondled it slowly, flicking your nipple in between her fingers, watching your eyes roll back when she pushed down on your cleavage. “Such a good slut for me though. So ready for me always. Are you ready for me now?”
Your head seeped into the pillow, the feeling of your breasts being attended to sending you into ecstasy. “Oh— yes, Niamh. Please, so ready for you. Want you inside me so bad.”
“Let me take this off first,” Niamh muttered, stripping off your jumper hastily, groaning at the sight of your chest on full display. You moaned and wiggled at the air hitting your nipples, making them harden for Niamh’s sole exhibition. Without hesitation, she took one of your nipples into her mouth, sucking harshly, nibbling slightly, leaving dark, heavy marks across both your breasts. Her hands groped both of them, moving them to her liking and rubbing them back and forth at varying paces. You writhed beneath her, your cheeks aflame at the sight of the marks littering your chest.
“Marking me up so good, baby.” You sighed, hoping the praise would speed up the process. “Wanna be your good girl so bad, Niamh.”
“So perfect for me.” She mumbled, her speech impaired as she was too busy marking you to lean up. “Taking me so well, aren't you? Is that what you want? You want me to fill you up? Make you so full of cum?”
Your instant agreeance made the girl chuckle. “Want you to fill me up. Wanna make my captain proud, Niamhy. Want you so bad.”
When hearing those words fall from your mouth, Niamh couldn't help but moan. She didn't know you had been turned on by her captaincy. If she had known prior, she would've brought the fucking armband home with her. She wouldn't fucked you multiple times with the band stuffed in your mouth, around her arm, or anywhere that remotely turned you on. She would've been lying if she hadn't found your unknown kink arousing, for the thriving want of tasting you grew as your sweet nothings filled the air.
Niamh pulled her head down, kissing down your abdomen and torso, looking back once more at the mess she had made over your chest before kneading your hips for some sense of relief.
“You've made me so proud, Baby.” She found the waistband of your pants once more, this time, taking her time to find the strength to pull them down. “But rewards can vary, remember? Sometimes, good girls get to choose what they want when they've made their captain proud.”
“Just want you, Niamh.” You whined, crying out when you lifted your hips for what felt like the hundredth time, only to meet nothing.
Your girlfriend hummed, inching down your pants, hoping you’d make your decision more sufficiently than that. “I'm afraid you're gonna have to be more specific than that, my love. Good girls who get to choose their rewards have to use their words.”
When you didn't immediately reply, Niamh shook her head, looking towards the draw that sat by your bedside table. “I thought you said you were my good girl?”
“I am! Just want you, though.”
Niamh knew when you got like this, you just wanted to be told what to do. You were always the quieter one in every situation, introverted and kept to your own. In many ways, Niamh liked that about you. Your outgoing person today against United was something she could get used to. But she wanted to make you feel more comfortable in speaking your truth. She wanted you to know that your decision was valued among discussions. She was not sure how to implement this into everyday life just yet, but she found that during sex, even if Niamh was dominating the exchange — which nine times out of ten she was — she wanted you to have autonomy over what you did.
This was just one example among many, and when you didn't comply, she’d have different methods to get you speaking.
She waited an extra moment just in case you changed your mind before leaning towards the table and searching for something in particular.
You were so subbed out that you didn't even notice the noise until you felt Niamh pull you upright, pulling you up to stand in front of the bed while she peeled off her top, leaving her in a sports bra and training shorts.
When you noticed what she held in her hands, you groaned. “Niamhy—”
“Shut up and listen.” She ordered, her firmness overpowering the contrasted softness she once held before. You straightened up, rubbing your legs together and moaning at the basic sense of relief that flooded down to your clit.
“Take off your pants. Keep your underwear on.”
You made no argument in that, taking no time in chucking your pants in the opposite direction, leaving your tarnished, drenched underwear on show.
“Come here.” Niamh stretched her legs out and beckoned you over. “Don't sit but hover.”
You did as you were told, not entirely wanting to act like a brat after you've just been promised a reward. Your legs ached from the game and from waiting for some kind of relief, shaking ever so slightly as you waited over Niamh’s leg for further instruction.
“Here’s what's going to happen,” You felt your cheeks darken at your girlfriend's firm tone, biting your lips and watching the woman play with the vibrator in her hand.“Since you expect me to do all the work and make all the decisions, you've landed yourself here.” You nodded intently, not exactly sure where this was heading. “You've got to realise that you need to tell me what you want to do sometimes, okay? It's not always about what I want to do. You've got to want it to. Do you understand?”
Even with the sternness of her tone, her underlying motives were precious. You nodded again, your legs growing even more sore as your thighs flexed at the stretch over Niamh.
“Yes, Niamh. I promise I do.”
Your girlfriend inevitably noticed your ache but chose to continue on her rant, knowing that you knew you weren't going to go to sleep tonight unsatisfied.
“You’ll get your reward after this,” With a flick of a switch, you heard the vibrator sound from beneath where you hovered. “You're going to get off on my thigh and the vibrator without my help. All I'm going to do is watch you.”
You let out a guttural moan when Niamh placed the toy against your thigh, looking at her with the utmost displeasure when she chose to put it there instead of your clit.
“You get to come,” Niamh grabbed both of your hips, squeezing them and making sure they were up and away from any friction. “But only when you to tell me two ways you want me to fuck you tonight.”
Your jaw slightly dropped at that. You were never the one to say anything incredibly vulgar, always alluding to what you wanted through noises and actions. Niamh always got slightly annoyed when you weren't confident in what you wanted, especially after your climax when she’d cuddle up beside you and rid of all the juices that leaked from your core. Niamh knew how to please you better than anyone else could, and she knew that you knew that. In fact, she took great pride in knowing that you trusted her to get you off without needing to tell her. But it was a long time coming. You knew that Niamh wanted you to speak your truth, not just in the bedroom but everywhere. You didn't want to stand out or say something not worthwhile. You were quite content with staying under the radar.
But despite this, Niamh waited for your approval of the idea, only turning up the vibrator and placing her hands behind her head when you spoke audible clearance.
You lowered yourself onto Niamh’s thigh as soon as possible, reeling your head backwards when the vibrations made their way into your core. Your girlfriend groaned st the sight of you rubbing your heat against her, finding it difficult not to grab you and fuck you right then and there. She watched you roll your hips back and forth, letting you use the headboard for you to balance yourself with extra support. It took you a while to find a rhythm, only consistent in your movements when some of the fabric of your underwear rubbed up against your clit, making you moan out at the contact of your swollen nub. Niamh saw the vibrator appear in and out of your humps, finding herself staring at the gleaming patch of arousal coating her thigh. The toy buzzes against your thigh, aiding you in your endeavours to get off.
The flustered state and external shyness in what you were meant to say daunted you as you felt your climax approaching.
You refused to look at Niamh in hopes that she would forget about her orders and watch you cum all over her instead.
The fabric against your clit rubbed itself back and forth diligently to the extent that the combination of the vibrator, and the slick made your breathing uneven and the coil in your stomach build to higher distances. You felt your tits move as you kneaded one and pitched the other nipple, closing your eyes and imagining Niamh.
You let out a pornographic moan, euphoria almost washing over you when your core clenched around nothing and started to release. You were about to finally feel a sense of relief when hands found your hips, lifting you away from any friction whatsoever as the vibrator was switched off.
“I can do this all night, y’know.” You heard her say, scoffing when you pouted. “I know how to get off on my own. I've got the videos of you cumming all over my face to prove it.”
“I was so close.”
“You could be so close every single time,” Niamh took the vibrator away, wiping the creamy liquid that coated the toy. “But if you do it again, I’ll edge you all night until you're overstimulated and forget everything except my name. You’ll be begging to cum and you won't even think about cumming for the next month.”
“Niamh, that’s—”
She cut you off with a sudden buzz directly on your clit. Your eyes widened at the vibrator next to your nub, moaning and crying out at the instant pleasure that fell over you. Your core was already sensitive to the teasing and edging, so your senses were heightened at the feeling. You knew Niamh wasn't bluffing, and you knew you wouldn't be able to get away with this.
She slipped off your underwear, letting the air reach your swollen clit.
“You're going to hump my thigh with this vibrator inside of you and tell me how you want me to fuck you.” She started. “Or, every night, I tie you up and make you watch me fuck myself to videos of you for the next month.”
She lowered you back onto her thigh, smirking when you whined at the vibrator pushing its tip inside of you. The toy wasn't able to fit wholly inside of you, only having to latch onto your clit and slightly inside your hole for it to work its magic. It made you crave for Niamh’s finger to fill you up and push your prior orgasms into you. You wanted her to fill you up with her strap and fuck you into ecstasy while you screamed out her name over and over again. You remembered many nights when Niamh would coat her strap with her own cum and fuck it into you. Her phone would be propped up somewhere, showcasing the juices forced up your hole. Niamh has a photo of you doing absolutely anything.
“Niamhy, want you— want you to—”
“Tell me, sweetheart, what do you want?”
When she was away for National Camps, and you couldn't Facetime due to the time difference, you sent her a video of you fingering yourself while whining about how much you missed her fingers.
“Want you to fill me— with your fingers-”
“Gonna make sure you're full of me, baby.”
She had a video of you getting yourself off with her watching. She had photos of you in all types of positions. She had an album of you screaming her name, calling her everything under the sun, cause she told you to and you always complied.
“Your mouth— your strap, Niamhy, want your dick inside me so bad.”
“Pound into until you're subbed out, am I?”
You remember watching a video of you riding her strap with her England Jersey on, bouncing up and down on the toy with your tits bobbing in front of the camera.
“Want to ride you like now. Eat me— eat me out, Niamhy, baby.”
“Fuck, baby, say my name.”
You knew that if you didn't comply, Niamh had plenty of things to keep her occupied.
The vibrator rolled inside of you, sending your back arching and heat throbbing. “Niamh, baby, I’m— fuck! I'm so close!”
Niamh was flushed, encaptured by the visual show of your tits and the way you bounced on her thigh so that the vibrator would dig its way into your core.
“Come for me, baby.” She spoke, jolting her knee so that the pressure in between your thighs would double.
You screamed, letting out the loudest of moans, as you felt your come coat the vibrator entirely, leaking all over Niamh’s thigh and yours.
“Such a good girl for me, aren't you gorgeous.” Niamh’s voice was raspy and hoarse. “Ride it out for me, baby. Yeah— just like that.” Her grip on your hips sent your orgasm out as she moved your hips back and forth until it was too much.
You moved to the side, collapsing so that your back was against the bed.
Niamh climbed on top of you, a devilish, content smirk lining her lips.
“We’re not done yet, love.”
You whined, but internally, you were excited for the night you were about to have.
_______________________
A/N — oh my god.
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