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yinyuedijun · 4 months

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ZERO-SUM GAME

It’s different with Aventurine. You like being his luxury hand watch. You like being his elegant knife, his liar’s dice, his pretty poker chip. You want to be his object—the object of his affections, something he can parade around just like his expensive suits and his beautiful jewellery and his ostentatious furs. Look at me, he uses them to say. Look at what I own. Look at what I own despite this code on my neck. Look at what I've won despite my eyes and my blood. (Or: Aventurine wins you in a game of poker. He decides to cash out his prize right then and there—to enjoy you on the card table, laid out among all the chips and cards.)

8.6k words of psychological issues, explicit smut, and deranged characterization. aventurine tops, reader bottoms. public sex, voyeurism from strangers, piv, oral (reader receiving), fingering with gloves on, creampie. mild dubcon but the reader is ultimately into it. afab gn reader, they are playing a fem-coded role for an espionage assignment (dress, heels, makeup). themes of objectification. discussion of slavery and sa during slavery (not explicit). dead dove do not eat, mdni.

You are in the grandest casino of Kinyoshi Moon Colony, and Aventurine is running your latest husband into life-ruining debt.

You aren’t cut up about it. If your marriage (or concubinage, rather) were genuine, you'd maybe be annoyed about the loss of capital. But as it is, this relationship is an assignment from the IPC—one of the longest and most excruciatingly boring yet. Fortunately for you, Aventurine’s presence tonight means that you've finally gathered enough intel for Diamond’s needs. It is time for the IPC to terminate your latest contract, and Aventurine is here to collect you.

Which is a little funny, given your relationship. It is strange sitting across from your boyfriend, draped over another man and thoroughly ignoring him. You’re entirely focused on fawning over your husband instead—laughing into his ear, lighting his pipe and filling his whiskey glass, and oh, Mister Li, you're so funny, you're so clever, I think you should go all in!—but Aventurine doesn't react. He only smiles at the two of you, like he isn't bothered by the sight.

This is, of course, an act: when you came home from your last marriage (assignment), he'd made sure to pleasure you so thoroughly that you forgot all about your ex-husband (mark). Aventurine did not openly admit to any kind of jealousy at the time, but you could tell he hadn't been keen on letting another man touch you. He usually isn't too keen about anyone touching any of his things, in fact. Despite appearances, he always abhors the thought of losing anything important.

But any fears he might have are concealed right now. They’re always concealed. Hidden by the expensive suit, the countless stacks of chips, the golden walls and high-vaulted ceilings of the Venetian Zhijin, Masked by his generous gifts, his easy laughter, his careless frivolity. You can see right through his gilded smile. The rest of the table cannot.

They are all intrigued when Aventurine asks, a playful lilt in his voice, “How about we make this game a little more interesting, gentleman?”

The other players at the table consider him. The other plus-ones—concubines, courtesans, gigolos, and so on—look at him with calculated expressions of cursory interest. You do so as well, but only for a moment. Your gaze quickly returns to Mister Li’s face—your husband is meant to be your true focus, after all, not the game. You are not a player at this table, but an accessory. Closer to an expensive watch than a human being.

Some business magnate from the Triangulum Galaxy leans back and raises a brow. “I'm listening,” he says. You watch a bead of sweat travel down your husband’s neck.

“How about we up the ante,” Aventurine says, his voice light, “but instead of betting more money this time, we bet our dates?”

You think, in other star systems, other worlds, such a suggestion would invite riot. But Kinyoshi Colony being what it is, and the Venetian being the establishment that it is, the other players at the table only laugh. Nearly half of them deal in the trade of human beings anyway—this is nothing novel for them.

“Well,” one of them says, “it’s not like winning more money’s gonna make a difference to any of us.” A round of chuckling. He turns to his date—some noblewoman from Jarilo-IV who seems greatly out of her depth—and says, “What do you think, love? How do you feel about being part of my wager?”

She doesn't like it. She clearly doesn't like it, and she also clearly doesn't know how to say it. Were you not on the clock, you might intervene. Maybe. As it is, though, all you can do is observe quietly. All the power in this gambit lies with Aventurine. Even when surrounded by men who manipulate the wealth of entire cities, planets, galaxies—he remains in full control.

“There’s never any shame in folding,” he says, magnanimous. Then he looks your husband in the eye, smiling conspiratorially. “But I know there are some of us who aren't afraid to take risks.”

Li laughs. “You’re right about that, Mister Aventurine.” He gives you a fond smile. And of course he does—you’re his last shot at winning back all his losses for the night. “I think you'd make a pretty little chip, don't you?”

Although Mister Li is clearly less distressed at the thought of betting you than he was at the thought of betting his company just last round, you notice, out of the corner of your eye, a muscle in Aventurine’s neck twitching. It’s very, very subtle, and he'd have never let himself do it if the table’s attention were on him, but he did it. Perhaps it was involuntary. Your mouth curls.

“Sure, darling.” You try not to sound too giddy. “I’ll be whatever you like.”

Ordinarily, you wouldn't be so happy about this farce. This is, put plainly, a stupid way to extract you from your mission. Were the cards in anyone else’s hands, your husband could win and you might be stuck with him for another several weeks, at least—assuming that you aren't discovered and killed first. Or you could go home with another man and be subjected to the kind of things that men do when they trade human beings, and you don't think the IPC would care too much if you were. You are an asset before you are a person, after all. At this table, you are closer to an expensive watch than a human being—and at the Company, you are an overpriced knife.

But to Aventurine, you're a chip in one of his games, and you don't mind that so much. Men who only know wealth will throw around their riches thoughtlessly, but men who have endured poverty will hold onto them tightly—desperately. Aventurine takes care of his luxury watches, his elegant knives, his liar’s dice. His capital. And he never loses anything. He always comes to collect. You trust him to collect you, even with this stupid plan, so you are calm as you watch the dealer shuffle the cards.

The table makes their bets. Most of the players go all-in. A couple fold, perhaps feeling some degree of concern for their partners, but it's more likely that they just have shit hands. A lot of the ones who continue playing have shit hands anyway. Your husband doesn't do too badly—a straight flush. He seems confident.

Then Aventurine lays out his cards. Ten. Joker. Queen. King. Ace.

All hearts.

You have to take a sip of your whiskey to stop yourself from laughing.

Aventurine, himself, has the grace not to look too smug about the outcome. Or maybe it's very unremarkable for him, all these winnings being pushed over to him—poker chips and human beings. Some of the other dates are clearly anxious as they move toward him (they are expected to be loyal to their husbands), and some are clearly excited (they are expected to be frivolous, hedonistic playthings). He humours them all, for a little while. Puts on the usual show as they crowd around him, charms them because it'll be good for business partnerships in case any of their husbands care even a little bit about them. You'd do the same in his shoes. But in your current ones (six-inch heels, black leather, red bottoms, luxury), all you can do is seat yourself on the card table and light up a cigarette. Waiting.

Aventurine eventually sends them all off. All I wanted was to get to know you, he says cheerfully, which is probably not a lie. After they leave, he asks the dealer to close the table and go on break. Turn a blind eye. You raise a brow when they obey him.

How interesting.

You're still enjoying your cigarette by the time he turns to you. You flash him a smile, one of the ones that you use for work. His expression doesn't change, but his thumb brushes against one of his many rings—switching off your synesthesia beacons for some privacy—and he leans back to study you. You know he's admiring you, but it could be mistaken for a leer.

“Well, well,” he says, “If it isn’t the esteemed concubine of Li Fengzhi.”

“The esteemed fifth concubine,” you correct. He hums, looking surprised.

“I thought you were the fourth. Did I misremember?”

“No, just misinformed. He took another concubine right before I arrived on Kinyoshi. He acquired a sixth just last week. Turns out he picks up paramours like they’re strays.”

“How inconvenient.”

“It made no difference to me,” you dismiss. “I’m his favourite anyway, but I’m sure you knew that already.”

“I’d have had to be blind not to notice it. You have the man wrapped around your finger.” Aventurine leans back, studying you as you smoke on your perch. “But before we continue—why don’t you come a little closer, esteemed Fifth Concubine?”

You make a face. “That title doesn’t sound as nearly as flattering in Avgin dialect as it does in Zhijinese,” you note, though you get off the table anyway. You don’t go very far, electing to seat yourself on his lap, your arms draping around his shoulders. The feathers of his jacket tickle at your bare shoulders; the satin of his gloves glide down the skin of your thighs before settling on your calves. “Since you’ve won my company for the night, though,” you sigh, “I suppose I can humour you, Mister Aventurine.”

“Lucky me.” He leans in, his breath sweeping the shell of your ear. His fragrance surrounds you, your body warming at the familiar scent of ambergris and vanilla. You realize, all of a sudden, how much you missed it. You have to stop yourself from pressing your face into his neck and melting—it would be a dead giveaway for your identity and also too revealing of your feelings. Aventurine might be endeared by it, but he might also find it disconcerting. He often needs to be tricked into intimacy.

He does enjoy being wanted though, and he can obviously tell that you want him. He pulls you closer, one of his hands giving your thigh a generous squeeze. It makes you throw your head back in a laugh, exposing the soft skin of your throat. You aren't surprised when he takes the opportunity to kiss it, his lips gentle against your pulse.

“You’re being very forward,” you tease him. “Did you miss me?”

“I’m just trying to be careful,” he defends himself between kisses, his breath warm on your skin. “We should try to conceal our mouths as much as possible. No one can intercept our synesthesia beacons, but someone could still read our lips.”

You give him a funny look. “We’re the only two speakers of Avgin in the known universe. Who could, other than ourselves, could read our—mmph…”

Aventurine has caught the rest of your sentence with his mouth. He’s hungry and wanting for you, the heat of his lips overwhelming. Your tongue is as practised as his, but you find yourself too distracted by your thrill to focus, your kiss wet and eager. Messy. Unprofessional.

You’ve never kissed any of your husbands like this. You’ve never kissed any of your other owners like this. You feel dazed when he pulls away.

You compose yourself. “So you did miss me.”

He smiles. “Guilty as charged.” A gloved hand rests on your face, satin tracing your lips. “How could I not? You’ve been away from the house for so long.”

Your eyes narrow. There’s no idiom for this in Avgin, so you flip briefly to Interastral Standard: “Pot, kettle, black. You leave home all the time.” You smack away the hand at your waist, petty. He looks amused. “And you almost always die.”

He switches out his smile for a pout. “Don’t tell me you’re still mad about last time.”

“You nearly got yourself blasted with atomics, so yes, I’m still mad at you.”

Now he’s frowning. “Am I going back to sleeping on the couch when you come back?”

“Yes,” you say. His deepening frown is meant to be read as a joke, but you know better. Deciding to throw him a bone, you lean in, whispering playfully into his ear: “You can still fuck me on it though.”

Aventurine hums, as if considering. His hands traverse your sides as he contemplates your suggestion. You move to straddle him, your thighs squeezed around his hips. When you grind against him, you can feel how much he wants you despite his composure, his control—his length straining in his pants, pressed against the silk covering your core.

“I don’t think I can wait long enough to fuck you on the couch,” he says, voice teasing.

“No?” You hum as his hands travel upward, feeling every inch of you. “The ship on the way home, then?”

“We don’t leave until tomorrow. Do you really think I can wait that long?”

You don't expect to feel the warmth of his hands on your chest. Your breath hitches when he starts palming your tits through your dress, neon eyes admiring the curve of them. One of his thumbs skims over the peak of your breast, and his mouth curls when your nipple hardens. “No bra? That's convenient.”

“I—” You squirm in his grip, whining. It just makes you grind against his lap more, your cunt moving against his slacks. A wave of heat runs through your lower half, and you clench around nothing. You can see people from a nearby table glancing at you, doing double takes. You can feel their lingering gazes on you, and you know Aventurine can too.

“I—are you going to”—your voice shakes as he pinches your nipple, as his other hand moves to squeeze your ass instead. Your dress is short—designed for easy access—and his fingertips easily skim the underside of its skirt. You wonder if he’s going to pull it up. You wonder if he's going to go even further than that.

But that would be an absurd thing to do in the middle of the busiest casino in the colony, which also happens to be the busiest trade hub in its star system. It would be absurd even for the two of you. Nevermind the reactions of the other players in the room—the staff here would immediately blacklist you, and so would every other gambling house in Kinyoshi.

You try to calm yourself. “Are you—ah—going to take me upstairs?”

He's fully kneading your breasts now. You can feel your clit throbbing, your body responding to his rough and unrepentant touch. “Hm… I don't think I want to.” Aventurine’s voice drops. His smile takes on a distinctly wicked quality. “I think I'll take you right here.”

“But we’ll get kicked out,” you whine. Even as you protest though, you're panting and moving your hips now. Grabbing at his arms, rutting against him like you're in heat. His fingers hook around the thin straps of your dress, pull them down your shoulders, already starting to indulge despite your reservations. You bend into his touch.

“Kicked out? By who? The staff?” He smiles, as always. “I own the place now. I don't think they'll be giving me trouble.”

“Y—you what?” For a moment, you're too shocked to keep up the wanton show. “You do? Since when?”

“Since last night.” He thumbs one of the straps that's fallen halfway down your arms. The rest of your dress threatens to come down with it. “Technically it's the IPC who acquired it—or, well, their shell company did—but I'm their designated representative here. I signed the contract.”

“The IPC isn’t going to be upset that you're fucking a concubine, who's not even your concubine, on their new property?”

Aventurine shrugs. “They know the kind of establishment the Venetian is. People gamble with humans here all the time, you know, so this has definitely happened before. The IPC definitely expects it to happen again. And besides”—he returns his attention to your dress, starting to slip the fabric down your shoulders—“I'm just cashing out my winnings. I'm sure they wouldn't deny a gambler his vices. That'd be bad business.”

You want to say more, but then he tugs, suddenly exposing you. You’re bare in front of him—in front of everyone. You can feel eyes on you. Heat curls in your gut as he grabs your tits again, his satin gloves smooth across your skin, and your nipples pebble beneath them. “Hm… much better.”

“But…” You bite your lip, glancing around. There are so many people watching now—so many voyeurs, who've forgotten about their games and their slots. Though there are a greater number of people who are continuing as usual, studying their hands, smoking their cigarettes, unperturbed. All regulars and VIPs, you know from your intelligence.

Aventurine pauses as you catalogue the room, raising a brow. Probably he's surprised at your sudden modesty; you usually have none when his touch is involved.

“Of course,” he adds, “if you'd rather enjoy the suite upstairs…”

“No—I don’t mind staying down here… it's just that I’ve never…”

Your voice trails off. Your eyes traverse the space again. There are people who’ve fully thrown their cards down, greedily drinking in the sight of you instead. Even some of the dealers are watching between hands, glancing at you instead of watching for cheaters. Like this is public entertainment, like you're a show.

Aventurine tilts his head.

“You've never had sex with an audience?” he guesses. He sounds surprised—perplexed. You don't know why. You know he knows it's a stupid question. You know he knows the answer.

You had sex in front of people all the time before you met him. You did it for the exact reasons that he’s almost certainly done the same. To this table of business magnates, you are closer to an expensive watch than a human being; to the IPC, you are more like an overpriced knife; to this gambling hall, you're an interesting sideshow.

To your captors who fucked you in public, you guess you were something like a toy.

The thought sitting in your mouth is this: you've never had sex with an audience and enjoyed it. It was painful—not painful for the heart or the mind or anything else sentimental, but painful like it felt you were a fish being gutted open by a knife. And even beyond that physical pain, you simply didn't enjoy being passed around. You didn't like being owned by those people. You didn't like being an object for their entertainment, a spectacle to be consumed.

But it's different with Aventurine. You like being his luxury hand watch. You like being his elegant knife, his liar’s dice, his pretty poker chip. You like being his plaything, spread for his viewing whenever he wants. You want to be his object—the object of his affections, something he can parade around just like his expensive suits and his beautiful jewellery and his ostentatious furs. Look at me, he uses them to say. Look at what I own. Look at what I own despite this commodity code on my neck. Look at what I've won despite my eyes and my blood.

You want him to own you too. You want him to show everyone that he won you, that he bought you, that you're his possession now. That he, and he alone, is free to treat you like a toy.

You're getting wetter just thinking about it.

“Nevermind,” you whisper. “Let's do it.”

His smile widens ever so slightly. Slyer than usual.

“Good,” he says. He guides you into standing. “Let’s get you settled then.”

You're seated back on the card table. The cigarette is forgotten in the ashtray next to you. Aventurine takes the time to straighten out your dress, lifting the straps back up and affording you some modesty—before he gently lays you out.

You look up at him as you're spread in front of him, laid out next to his royal flush and winnings. Like you're another chip in his stacks, the most expensive one. He puts a hand beneath your leg, drapes it over his shoulder. He takes the opportunity to kiss your calf, his lips delicate.

You glance at the tables around you. You watch the business owners and politicians as they watch Aventurine. You watch them as they watch your boyfriend pepper kisses up your leg, unless he's settling in between them. Your thighs spread easily for him, and you don't resist as he hikes up your skirt.

Then he frowns.

“I’ve never seen these panties before.”

“They’re new,” you relay.

“From your husband?”

“Yup.”

“I see.”

You can't see his face, but he sounds distinctly displeased. You expect him to complain, to say they're not expensive enough or not designer enough or just plain ugly.

You don't expect him to tear them right off.

“Aventurine?!”

You're so surprised you sit up, just in time to see him throw tatters of silk to the floor.

“What?” He looks up at you, expression unbothered, almost mild. “It wasn't your colour.”

Your mouth opens. “But it was still very nice!”

“I'll buy you nicer ones later. I’ll buy you a whole drawer of nicer ones later, when we’re done here.”

He looks down again, humming. Your cheeks flush as he spreads your legs again, baring your glistening sex to him—this time completely bare. Satin glides along the inside of your thighs, and your breath hitches when he reaches their apex. You feel the light touch of a finger along your opening, and you feel your body responding, tightening around nothing.

“Tell me,” he says, “What else did your husband do with you?”

His voice is casual, almost disinterested, but you know Aventurine is listening carefully.

“Not much,” you answer truthfully. “I haven't cum in months, you know.”

“Oh?” He sounds surprised. “You don't have sex with him?”

“No. He's fucked me a lot. It”—you whimper, pausing when you feel his fingers spreading you open, fluttering hole and swollen clit exposed to him—“it just wasn't very good.”

“Then”—you feel a thumb press against your clit, and you swallow—“he never touched you here?”

“N-no.”

“Stupid of him.” He’s drawing slow, lazy circles into the bud now, making you squirm on the table. You press yourself eagerly toward his familiar touch, having desperately missed it for months. Aventurine, perhaps sensing your neediness, asks, “And you didn't touch yourself?”

“He didn't let me,” you whine, and now he's frowning at you.

“I knew I should have gotten you out of there sooner,” he says, and you have to bite back a laugh. Aventurine’s mouth curls at the sound, and he leans in to place a kiss on your thigh. “But that’s fine. I'll make it up to you now.”

Aventurine kisses are soft and precise. They pepper a path up your thigh while his fingers continue to play lazily with your clit. You want—need—to feel something inside you, but he doesn't oblige. His fingers merely run along your entrance, teasing your dripping pussy with luxury satin, and that's all they do, even as your hips buck needily toward him.

He pauses for just a moment. When you look at him, you see him staring at you—at the brand on your inner thigh, the commodity code that your captors left on you, branding you as a product to be used and sold.

His voice is almost soft when he asks, “And what did your husband say when he saw this?”

“He never did,” you reply. “He always fucked me from behind. And he never went down on me.” You pause, thinking about the way he spoke of his business. Of his trade partners. Of what your captors had done to your home when you told him about it, feigning intimacy only to be matched in cruelty. You think about the way he fucked you, how it felt to be gutted open on his expensive, silk sheets.

None of it matters to you, really. This is behaviour that you’ve long accepted, that your body always anticipates. But you always like to offer Aventurine intimacy, whether real or feigned, whether he returns it equally or responds with undeserved cruelty: “I think it wouldn't have bothered him if he had noticed it.”

You can't see Aventurine’s eyes, but you can feel his reaction when he places a chaste kiss on your product code.

“I should have gotten you out of there sooner,” he repeats. Then he pauses. “Maybe I shouldn't have let you go at all.”

“I didn't mind,” you say. You aren't lying. “You gave me up for a reason.”

He stands. Cups your face with a palm, luxuriant fabric and gold rings pressed against your skin. Sometimes he's given up the aventurine stone temporarily for assignments, parting with it in elaborate gambles that he always manages to win. The way he’s touching you now reminds you of the way he holds the gem whenever it returns to his hand.

“Well,” he says, “I’m sorry it took so long to get you back.”

Aventurine tilts your chin up for a kiss. You meet it eagerly, and it's so tender in its familiarity that every memory of your husband fades. There's only Aventurine, and his gentle mouth, and the way his hands slide your dress down again, how he palms your breasts again. How he teases one nipple with his expensive rings until you're moaning into his mouth. How his other hand travels down until his gloved hand is cupping your heat. You drag your hips against his touch, desperately seeking some kind of friction, your wetness drenching the cloth. Your cunt clenches around nothing, your body aching to be filled by him, aching in a way that it does for no one else.

It’s one of the most addictive feelings you've ever known.

Aventurine only stops touching you so he can push away all the chips, clearing space on the table. He ignores the cacophony as countless stacks fall over, not sparing the plastic coins a single glance. Like you're the only prize that matters to him, even though the sum of his winnings come out to more than you ever were worth.

He lays you out on the table again, flat on your back, exposed, before kissing a path down your body—your neck, your breasts, your stomach, between your thighs. He deigns to give your product code one more kiss, his lips so gentle that it makes you tremble—and then he finally puts his mouth on you. He licks a hot stripe from your dripping pussy up to the crest of your sex, and your eyes close in bliss.

If you felt any uncertainty before this, it's completely gone now. Your hands ghost over your tits, playing with them as Aventurine’s tongue plays with you. He sucks on your neglected clit, fingers squeezing your thighs, keeping you spread open and still for him. He presses in, lets you drag your cunt over his greedy mouth and grind your clit against his face. Heat and pressure coil tight in your belly as he pleasures you, your body flushing with the kind of bliss only Aventurine can give you. You’re so lost in it that you almost don’t notice how quiet the rest of the hall has gotten, the cacophony of chatter and slot machines oddly subdued—almost missing. In their absence, the obscene noises that Aventurine is drawing from your mouth and body are louder than they should be.

The pleasure in your belly is just starting to swell when he pulls away. You give him a pleading look as he leans over you, but before you can start begging for more, you feel his fingers press against your heat. He watches you with keen eyes as he starts rubbing your pussy, maybe enjoying the desperate noises you make at his touch. You buck your hips, moaning as your clit and entrance grind against the fabric of his gloves, seeking friction. You’re empty, aching, desperate to be filled, but you think you can finish like this, just by rutting against his satin fingers—

Aventurine withdraws his hand, and you whine.

“No,” you beg, “please, please keep going, I was getting close—”

He raises a brow, feigning surprise. “Keep going?” He brings up his hand, shows you his gloves. The satin is soaked, shiny and stained with your slick. “I don't think I should. Look at what a mess you’ve made of my gloves.” Aventurine hums, frowning. “These are designer, you know. And limited—there are only 95 pairs of these in the whole universe. And you're ruining them.”

“I'm sorry,” you say, mind so fogged with lust that you can't even return his teasing. “I'm sorry, I'll make it up to you, I'll do anything, just—just let me cum—”

“Anything?” His smile is sly.

“Anything.”

“Well. I suppose if you help me clean this up, I wouldn't mind rewarding you with more.”

You don't need to ask what he means by that. When he holds out his hand to you, runs a finger along your lips, you obediently open your mouth for him. Your tongue slides along the wet satin, only making his glove messier—but he seems not to mind. He merely watches intently as your tongue cleans his fingers, taking in the obscene image of you hungrily lapping your own slick off the expensive fabric.

He lets you ruin his glove thoroughly before finally drawing back, peeling it off.

“I'm not sure that did any good,” he says, frowning. “I’ll probably need to buy a new pair. But”—he pulls away, and you feel him settle between your legs again, his hands spreading them. “I'll still reward you for the effort.”

Aventurine is quick about getting his mouth back on you. His tongue is hot on your skin, expertly teasing your clit. You feel his fingers running along your entrance again, growing sticky with his need. He laughs when you press your hips toward his hand, desperate to be filled.

Then he's pressing his bare fingers into your heat, and your back is arching off the table.

The moan you let out is obscene. It only gets worse when his fingers curl, making the pressure in your belly even heavier. Utterly shameless, you beg for him as he fucks you with his fingers: Aventurine, please, please, I need more, please, I'm so close, I'm so close.

As if taking pity on you, his mouth finds your clit again, his fingers pressing into your sweet spot at the same time. And he doesn't let up, pushing into it even when you think you can't take anymore—tongue swirling against your overstimulated bud, fingers making you gush uncontrollably. You practically sob when you cum, a noise of desperation that echoes in the gambling hall.

His smile looks a little fonder than usual—or maybe just entertained—as he stands again and leans over you. You taste your own release in a messy, open-mouthed kiss, and he strokes your face when he pulls away.

“So good for me,” he praises. “Are you going to let me do more?”

You nod eagerly. “Whatever you like,” you say, all sense of shame gone from your body, “and however you want.”

Aventurine’s mouth curls. “Your husband fucked you from behind, right? Why don't you bend over for me, then? Let's show him how he should have been doing it.”

You see the diamond pupils of Aventurine’s eyes glance off to the side, where, sure enough, your husband is spectating with some of his business partners. You force yourself to turn away before you can smile, hiding your expression from the other men. You’re not meant to derive any real pleasure from any of this, let alone pleasure of the vindictive kind. Your relationship with Aventurine is supposedly nothing but a gambler and his newly won, human plaything. It would be suspicious if you appeared to be anything else.

You slink off the table in a distinctly performative way, and Aventurine plays equally into the show—probably an act as familiar to him as it is to you. He guides you into turning around, your eyes falling on the scattered cards on the tabletop, the casino’s eyes falling on you. His hands waste no time in pulling down your dress and reaching around to knead your breasts, in full view of the rest of the gambling hall. You're only vaguely aware of your audience now, registering the interested, hungry stares, but not really caring. You're too focused on the way that Aventurine is tugging and twisting at your nipples, at how he’s pressed up against your ass, his cock straining through his pants. You grind needily against him, whining.

Aventurine kisses your shoulder. “Poor thing. You've been neglected for so long, haven't you?” His hands retreat, and you hear the sound of a zipper being undone. Then your skirt’s being pushed up and you're being bent over, your dripping pussy fully presented to him. When you feel the press of his cockhead against your entrance, you desperately try to push yourself back onto him. But he doesn't allow you to—only running the tip along your wet folds, still sticky from your release, while he stills you with a gentle touch on your hip.

You make a pathetic, desperate noise. Aventurine chuckles, though there’s now a breathy quality to his voice.

“Be patient,” he chides. “I'll take care of you.”

You know he will. He always takes care of you, in a way that no one else ever has. Even when he gambles your life for some mission, even when he can barely afford you the barest hints of intimacy, even when he displays your body to an audience of slave traders and murderers—he always takes care of you. Even if you are only a knife or a wristwatch or a chip in one of his games, he still treats you like you're worth holding onto.

Aventurine finally moves. Your eyes flutter shut as you feel his cock sliding into you. Usually he needs to be careful after your long missions away from him, knowing you'll be tense. He understands that your body always anticipates being in pain after being touched by other people. But he has you so worked up right now—still dripping from your release, still pliant from his fingers, still eager to please him before the crowd—that your cunt easily swallows his length. The stretch is pure bliss, pleasure unfurling in your body as you're filled up properly for the first time in months. He's just as affected as you, breath shaking as he bottoms out.

“Fuck,” he breathes—laughs. “Nearly forgot how good this feels.” He pauses, his breathing slowing—almost stopping each time you squeeze around him. You turn back, throwing him a pleading glance, and he meets it with an endeared smile. “Eager today, aren't you?” He hums, a hand sliding along your waist. “You really do need to be properly fucked.”

He's stalling. Trying to give you a moment to adjust, but you don't need it. “Yes,” you encourage him. Aching for the press of his cock against your walls, you grind against him, and you hear a strangled groan as you force him to move inside you. “Please, Aventurine—please, please fuck me, I need it so badly—”

He hums, both hands grabbing your hips, his fingers sinking into you. “Well. Since you asked so nicely.”

The first thrust has your eyes going wide, your hands reaching for the card table as you’re forced to bend over. You spread our palms next to the mess of heart cards and shiny tokens, bracing yourself for the way your body’s about to be used. He doesn't give you time to breathe after, each stroke filling you deep and fast. The rest of the gambling hall grows very, very quiet as Aventurine fucks you, and suddenly all you can hear is the appreciative murmur of the crowd, clink of ice cubes in aged whiskey, the noisy flick of lighters as more patrons opt to pause their games and enjoy the show. You hear the shattering of all the stacks beside you, hundreds of thousands of dollars in chips fall over beside you, tokens clinking as they roll across the tabletop. But all of that is soon drowned out by the wet noise of your pussy being fucked open, the squelch of your slick around his cock. You moan each time he bottoms out, eager to be filled.

When you feel his cock press into your sweet spot, your moans quickly turn into cries.

You hear something like a breathy laugh from Aventurine. Your body always reveals itself so easily to him, and you know he enjoys it. He hits that spot again and again, builds an agonizing tension in your body with every thrust of his hips. It has your pussy gushing around him, your thighs growing wet and sticky with your need.

Just when it feels like you can't take anymore, he reaches down and presses his fingers against your throbbing clit. Your knees buckle as he toys with you, chest heaving against the table as he sets a brutal pace. You're—overwhelmed, mind going hazy as you're fucked mercilessly. So far gone, you can hardly register the disgruntled expression of your husband, the hungry gazes of his companions, the way that other players are starting to shift in their seats, palming themselves at the sight of your pussy being split open. There's only the tight coil in your gut, the chips between your fingers as you grab uselessly for something to ground you, the cock that's filling you over and over and over—and oh fuck, you’re going to cum, you're really going to cum after being won in a game, from having your pussy used like a sleeve, from being watched by men who will never own you no matter how many times they trade you, no matter how many times they fuck you, no matter how many times they pass you around, because you'll only ever belong to Aventurine—

Your orgasm crashes through your body, and you sob.

It's a broken, blissed out noise. Your pussy is equally shameless, gushing as you pulse around Aventurine’s cock. You go limp as he fucks you through your orgasm, uncaring about the mess you're making. He only groans as you squirt all over him, hips stuttering as he reaches his own peak—spilling himself inside you, pumping you full. Aventurine’s body slumps over yours as rides out his high, his face pressing into your shoulder. You find the wherewithal to shift yourself, just enough to your lips against the tattoo on his neck. He looks at you for a fleeting moment, the blue ring of his eyes electric on you, before capture your mouth in a desperate, messy kiss.

The two of you stay there for a long moment, panting into each other. Then Aventurine collects himself, remembers how to talk: “Fuck.”

You piece yourself together just as easily. Maybe even faster. Smiling into his mouth, you ask, “Enjoy yourself?”

“Clearly.” Aventurine presses his lips into your neck, lingering only briefly. “Can you walk?”

“I think so.”

Aventurine takes his time with moving, as if basking in the afterglow—or bragging in it. But he does rise, eventually. Pulls out slowly, making you shudder. He helps you to your feet, lets you hold onto him for support. His spend drips down your thighs as you right yourself, messy and hot on your skin. You can feel it sliding down your legs as you walk, braced against Aventurine as he guides you in the long walk toward the elevator. It slips all the way down to your calves, to your expensive heels, even onto the marble floor.

You're fairly certain that it's not an accident when Aventurine flips up your skirt as you pass your ex-husband. At the very least, it isn't a mistake when you stumble in that same moment, bending over and giving him a good look at your well-used pussy, now overfilled with your boyfriend’s cum. You don't stop to look at him, but you know he must be red-faced, displeased—aware that he’s been humiliated. Beaten by a Stoneheart, concubine stolen by Sigonian, one of his favourite possessions claimed by a former slave. You'd laugh if you could.

You can't help but kiss Aventurine while the two of you wait for the elevator, a smile glowing into his lips.

It's absurd, but a staff member approaches the two of you as you indulge in one another. Aventurine pulls away as you’re approached, looking mildly annoyed as he switches on his synesthesia beacon.

“Sir,” the staff says, “you’ve left your other winnings at the table.”

Even in his post-orgasm bliss, Aventurine responds promptly. “I’ll cash it all,” he says. “Send the money to my room. I'm not coming back tomorrow.”

“Very well. And the terms of the… human resource exchange that just happened?”

Aventurine’s jaw clicks. It's quiet, but surprising. You watch him carefully.

“We didn't bet contracts,” he says. “This is a concubine, not a slave. But tell Mister Li I'll buy them anyway. I'll pay whatever price he wants, which I’d wager is the company that he gambled and lost to me. Maybe suggest that to him.”

“Of course,” the staff member replies, bowing. Despite the first-rate service, Aventurine looks like he can't get out of there sooner enough as he guides you into the elevator. You give him a curious look as the door closes.

“You're going to give up a multiplanetary corporation just for this?” you ask.

“Not entirely. The IPC was planning to acquire it anyway. It'll be ours again in a few months.” He stares at your reflections in the mirror, his strange eyes lingering on your dishevelled form. “We’ll put your intel to good use,” he adds, and although Jade or Diamond or any of your real bosses would say this with a smile and reward you with a bonus, Aventurine’s expression is unreadable.

“What's on your mind?” you ask, fingers brushing against his hand. “You’re worried about something.”

Aventurine blinks, and it takes him a moment to recover.

“Nothing. Just hoping we didn't give our relationship away just now.” He cups your face with a hand, guides you into looking at his smile. A deflection. “I might have gotten carried away.”

You lean into his touch, eyes playful: a performance. As if he's some stranger that you're servicing, a captor being entertained; as if you're a plaything about to be used. As if you expect to be treated like the disposable commodity that your husband just gambled away.

“I wouldn't worry,” you reassure him. “I'm sure after the show we put on, it'll be clear to anyone that you're only keeping me around for sex.”

It's very, very subtle, but a muscle in Aventurine's neck twitches. He'd never allow it in a game of cards, never before the IPC, never before the prying eyes of slavers and killers—but he allows it in front of you. He always unwittingly bares himself to you, even as he swallows his discomfort before adopting his usual, vulpine expression. You don't think anyone else would notice what lies beneath the gilded surface of his smile, his liar’s eyes. You don't think anyone else would notice his tells, his vulnerabilities, his quiet fear of loss.

After all, there is no one else in this universe who knows how to trick him into intimacy.

Winning has always come with a certain emptiness for Aventurine. Gambling is, after all, a zero sum game. He plays a royal flush and people lose their homes. Winner takes all. He survives the fighting pits, his blade dripping red with the lives of other slaves. Winner takes all. He runs from the stench of blood and burning flesh, praying for thunder and rain loud enough to drown the screams of his dying kin. Winner takes all.

He alone survives. He alone enjoys his riches. Ever since the Avgin died, he has always been by himself. There is no amount of coin nor credit that will ever change this.

Here is another unyielding fact that hollows any win: that no matter how many credits he collects, he will always be a chip himself. He will always be a plastic token worth sixty coppers. Gambling is a zero-sum game, and ever since the day he was chained, Aventurine has been the pool of riches divided among winners. He has always been the commodity being traded between hands. He has always been the prize to be cashed out and used. Even now, with all this money and power, it will never be him who comes to collect: it will always be the IPC. Winner takes all.

Such is his fate. Luck is always on his side, but he has always had the losing hand against destiny. No matter how many times he wins, there is nothing that will ever truly belong to him.

But then he met you.

Then he met you, and now his luck does not always feel like such a cruel or empty thing. Now the zero-sum game has meaning. He hedges his bets in the market and buys out a planet, and acquires you along with the shares. Winner takes all. He gambles his life against a nuclear power and comes out on top, and the IPC allows him to keep you by his side. Winner takes all. He plays a royal flush and wins at a table of slave traders, and he gets to fuck you until you can't think of any cock but his own. Winner takes all.

Gambling is a zero-sum game, and when you're the reward, Aventurine wouldn't have it any other way. He’ll never share you with anyone. He'll never sell you to anyone.

He’ll never lose you to anyone.

Sometimes it surprises him, this attachment he feels to you. He doesn't quite understand it, but he thinks it mostly just has to do with how good it feels to fuck you. Much like gambling, Aventurine has never enjoyed sex until you came along. Sex for him has always felt like a humiliation, like being gutted open as a captive animal, like being won and passed around in the grand hall of some gaudy casino.

Which is, in fact, another thing he never thought he'd enjoy: having sex in the Venetian Zhijin before an audience of revolting men. He'd resented having to do it as a slave, but he’d enjoyed doing it with you as a Stoneheart. He'd even do it again if he could—take you over and over again on that card table, fill you up with his cum. Spread your cunt in front of everyone, so they could see for themselves that you were now his. Winner takes all.

Winning doesn't feel empty when you're his reward. Sex doesn't either. Because Aventurine isn't a chip or an animal or a commodity when he fucks you—he's a player. Someone with a seat at the table, as just as wealthy and powerful as the slave traders around him. Someone who’s allowed to own something—really own something.

Really allowed to own you.

Aventurine owns you. When he fucks you, he is a player at the table, and you are the prize he gets to keep. And no matter how you feel about him and how you act toward him—this is all the two of you will ever be. He knows this. He knows that you know it too.

So sometimes he can't fathom it, the way he treats you in bed. The way he always kisses your commodity code when he sees it, the way he allows you to kiss his own. The way he always thinks about pleasuring you until you're drunk on his cock, so addicted to him that you’ll never want to be touched by anyone else. The way he always likes how your body feels when it's being shaped by his hands. How different it feels from being forced to touch other people.

How badly you make him want something that he's always hated.

And this is what he understands least of all: how he doesn't like to hear you say aloud the true nature of your relationship. How he doesn't like it when you accept this reality and say, you're only keeping me around for sex.

It hollows him out when he hears it. A bitter feeling swells in his throat, and he forces himself to swallow.

Aventurine keeps his face neutral as he enters the suite with you. As soon as the door is shut, you pull him close—close enough for him to see the blurred lines of your lipstick, smudged from his mouth; close enough to see the white diamond necklace on your neck, a collar for a concubine; close enough to see the finger-shaped discolorations on your throat, poorly hidden by your foundation.

Close enough to see all the things done to your body by others—all the things you didn't choose for yourself.

“How do you want to have me next?” Your fingertip traces his lips. “On the bed? In the shower?” Your eyes are playful. “Maybe against the window?”

Aventurine’s hand cups your cheek, gold rings pressed against your skin. His hold is delicate, more careful than with anything else he's ever handled—any of his watches, his furs, his jewellery. Even more than with the aventurine stone.

“I want to kiss you,” he says.

You blink.

“Kiss me?” Your brow ticks up, but then your face lights up in supposed understanding. “Okay. You can kiss me. And then?”

“And then I'll keep kissing you.”

You tilt your head, not understanding. “Really?”

“What? Is that off-limits now?” He leans in, expression playful. “Don't tell me I've got to go back downstairs and win back permission to kiss you from your husband.”

Before you can say anything else—ask anything else, perceive anything else—he presses his mouth to yours. Your eyes widen for only a moment before falling shut, your arms wrapping around his neck. Your lips part for him, and he delights in the noise you make as he deepens the kiss.

He did lie, in a way. The two of you do end up fucking again—this time in bed, your mouth gasping into his as you fall apart for him, wet and needy around his cock. You're so warm around him, so pliable beneath him, so desperate when possessed by him. He knows that he could keep going, that he could do anything to you, that you'd be eager to let him use you however he wants.

But all he does afterward is kiss you.

This is yet another act that he never thought he'd enjoy. Kissing has always felt like a chore or a power play or a manipulation. It has always come with a certain emptiness—just like gambling, just like sex. And then he met you, and now it no longer feels so hollow. Because when he wins bets for the IPC, he feels like a poker chip in one of their games, but when he’s fucking you, he feels like a player at the table. And sometimes, when he kisses you—when he holds you close, when you come down from your high and press your face into the crook of his neck and in the vulnerable haze of your bliss, tell him, I missed you—

—he finally feels like a human being.

end notes: christ alive I have never written anything so horny glddjsksjs. I apologize for both my mid smut writing and deranged characterization 💔

initially this was supposed to be brainless pwp about aventurine eating you out on a poker table but I kept asking myself “why the hell did aventurine gamble for human beings and why are these two insane enough to be fucking in a casino tho lol”, and thus a coherent narrative was born from my shameless lust for this guy! but please also don't take the story too seriously because this is a dumb smut piece first and foremost and I mostly wrote it with my clit 😔✌️

that being said, if you are curious about the subject matter that I covered – here's an afterword expanding on my intentions with the themes.

#aventurine x reader #aventurine smut #hsr smut #hsr x reader #honkai star rail x reader #x reader #im so tired of editing this the quality of this piece is a lost cause sldkfjsldkfj #DIVIDER BY @/CAFEKITSUNE BTW it is so cute i thought it was perfect for this fic #anyway. sorry to everyone for character assassinating our favourite gambler #yueshuo.fics #dead dove #cw.slavery

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kpoptarotastrology009 · 3 months

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ASTROLOGY OBSERVATIONS Part-1

Lilith in the 1st house : the person has a magnetic aura to them that makes people love them or hate them or both at the same time but in any case they think about them sexually and there's no doubt about that/ dark feminine energy

Lilith in the 10th house: it's the same as Lilith in the 1st house but the only difference when it's in the 10th house that it comes with rumors and maybe some problems in term of work and coworkers so yeah

Scorpio Mars: When these people set their mind to something, nothing can stop them. They’ve got this intense, magnetic energy that pulls you in and won’t let go. Scorpio Mars folks are all about getting to the bottom of things, no matter how deep they have to dig. They’re relentless, driven, and sometimes a little intimidating. You don’t want to mess with them because they play for keeps and don’t back down easily. Their passion is unmatched, and they bring a certain raw power to everything they do.

Sun in the 10th house: so let me tell you something, a lot of people talk about Leo suns and how they like the attention, but have you ever met someone who has their sun in the 10th house?! These people want power baby , they want to be in control and all the eyes on them they like that trust me

Moon in the 12th house : that's a hard placement to have , so first these people when you ask them about their emotion and they say they don't know, believe it or not they really don't know , it's like their emotion being hidden from them, when something happens they just don't feel anything or just don't know how to feel? this is so hard , and another thing, so these people are so delusional specially when it comes to their emotion, they fantasize a lot and live in another world, they love music Sooo much more that normal people do because music just takes them to their emotional World that's filled with illusion and they do anything they want there they just feel so happy doing that

Sagittarius Venus: Love for these individuals is a grand adventure. They’re always looking for a partner who can keep up with their wild spirit and thirst for new experiences. Honesty and freedom are non-negotiables for them, and they won’t stick around if they feel trapped or lied to. They bring a lot of enthusiasm and positivity into their relationships, making everything feel like an epic journey. Being with them means lots of spontaneous trips, deep philosophical talks, and never a dull moment.

Libra Risings: These people have a charming and diplomatic aura that makes them natural peacemakers. They’re always looking for balance and harmony in their relationships and surroundings. Libra Risings are social butterflies, often surrounded by a wide circle of friends. They have a keen sense of aesthetics and are drawn to beauty in all its forms. They’re the ones you go to for advice on style, relationships, and anything else that requires a touch of elegance.

Virgo moon : okay that's another hard placement to have , just imagine the amount of overthinking here , whenever is Virgo in your chart it's will make you overthink about the term of that planet , like some sort of anxiety ? And when it's in the moon , you will overthink your emotions, you will feel everything but you just can't describe it , for example if someone blocked you without a reason that will hurt you in someway and then you will overthink it like why and how and what's the reason and you will be thinking why they did that and 100 reasons comes to your mind and you feel bad, the insecurities and anxiety come to the surface , you're stomach hurts, you can't sleep, you can't stop thinking about it and this is for some basic cases , so imagine if it was a deeper cases ... That's scary to even think about...

Cap moon /Moon- Saturn ( conjunction/ opposite/ square): oh... I'm sorry... These people really needs emotional support, you can tell me anything but these people need love ,need care and need support, they act so strong on the outside but in the inside they are really sensitive, they just need to be loved and nurtured by a person or a mother figure

Neptune in the 5th house: this makes you so creative , your imagination is unlimited

Pisces Suns: These folks are deep in their feels and vibe on a different wavelength. They can sense what others are feeling without a word being said, making them super empathetic. Sometimes they seem spaced out or lost in their own world, which is just them getting lost in their dreams and fantasies. Pisces Suns are the creative types, always imagining new possibilities and seeing the beauty in things others might miss. They're like spiritual wanderers, flowing through life with an almost mystical vibe.

#astrology placements #astrology #astrology observations #astrology community #astrology notes #astrology signs #astrology blog #astroblr #astro observations #astrology tumblr #astro notes #kpop astrology #free astrology reading #synastry observations #synastry #free tarot #kpop tarot #free gaza #free tarot reading

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tongue-like-a-razor · 20 days

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Brother's Best Friend - Part 13

Jake Seresin x F!Reader

Summary: The trials and tribulations of falling for your brother's best friend.

CW: mild angst, swearing, fluff

WC: 2800+

Part 1 | Masterlist

It’s nearly midnight on a Friday and Jake has already stated that he needs to leave at least six times. Bradley is due back any minute and if he finds Jake at the house with you, he’ll undoubtedly ask questions.

But, between his goodbyes, Jake continues to kiss you. On your lips, along your jawline, down your neck.

“I have to go,” he declares firmly, as though you’re keeping him hostage.

He proceeds to graze his teeth over your collarbone and flick his tongue at the base of your neck. You giggle. “No one is stopping you.”

Jake drops his head and nestles it under your chin with a groan. “Could you?” he asks, making you chuckle again.

His hand hovers uncertainly below your shoulder blades, over the clasp of your bra, while the other slips past the curve of your waist to your leg, noticeably avoiding your ass. Jake has done a remarkable job of keeping things PG since the two of you got together. This suits you just fine because, as much as you want him to touch you all over, you’re not overly keen on having to live up to every other girl Jake has ever been with.

You comb your fingers through his hair and he sighs blissfully into your chest. “Stay,” you say quietly, knowing full well what that would entail.

Jake lets out another groan and leans his weight into you, pushing you over onto your back on the couch. “Maybe I will,” he mutters defiantly, as though your offer had been a challenge.

You let out a soft laugh, certain that he’s bluffing. After all, staying would mean having to explain to your brother what he’s doing at your house past midnight while Bradley isn't home. “Do you really think he’s going to make you choose?” you ask as Jake settles himself behind you on the couch and drapes an arm over your shoulder.

He sighs and you feel his breath warm the back of your ear. “I wouldn’t blame him,” he replies.

You bite your lip anxiously. “We still have to tell him.”

Jake presses his mouth to the back of your head and mumbles, “I know,” into your hair.

You feel him shift behind you as he struggles to fit himself on the couch. He kicks the armrest by accident. “You want me to move?” you ask.

At these words, his hold on you tightens and he mutters, “Don’t you dare.”

You giggle. “You’re going to get us both in trouble.”

Jake moans into the throw pillow under your head and then reluctantly sits up. “I just want to spend the night with my girl!” he whines, repositioning himself so that he can rest his head on your chest when he lies back down.

You smile at him and pat his head sympathetically.

…

“I’ll be home late again tonight,” Bradley says, finally sitting down to eat his lunch after spending over half an hour building the perfect sandwich.

Jake, who’s just finished eating a second bowl of cereal, shoots a brief glance in your direction.

“Cool,” you say, ignoring Jake’s foot that’s currently creeping into your territory under the table. You kick him before he tries anything untoward and he winces in silence. “Have fun.”

Bradley looks at you suspiciously. “I haven’t even told you what I’m doing.”

You lift your eyebrows at him guiltily. “Well, I’m sure you wouldn’t be doing it if it weren’t fun.”

Bradley shrugs and goes back to his sandwich. You look over at Jake, who’s chuckling lightly into his bowl, and glide your bare foot up his calf. He freezes, blinking pointedly at the milk in his bowl. With a straight face, he lowers his hand and curls his fingers around your ankle. You panic, trying to yank it out of his grasp, but his grip is too strong. He eyes you mischievously, knowing he’s won this round. Meanwhile, Bradley bites into his sandwich, blissfully unaware.

“You should come, Seresin,” you brother suggests. “One of the bartenders told me she thinks you’re cute.”

Jake leans back in his seat and makes a face. “Nah.” You feel his thumb begin to stroke the top of your foot.

“Why not?” you ask him innocently. “Don’t you want to get laid?”

Jake throws you a smirk and squeezes your foot under the table. “Always,” he responds with a wink.

“Yes, dude!” Bradley exclaims happily, slamming the table. “Trust me, if you’re coming, you’re gonna get laid.”

Jake looks back over at Bradley uncomfortably. “Not tonight, man,” he says.

“Why?” Bradley slumps back in his seat, clearly disappointed. You can tell that he misses his days of debauchery with his best friend.

“You should go,” you tell Jake. “Maybe you’ll get lucky,” you add, shrugging, when Jake looks back at you, unamused.

“It’s got nothing to do with luck, little girl,” he says, leaning into the table to get closer to you.

You roll your eyes at him and finally pull your foot out of his grasp. “Please,” you say.

“Please, what?” Jake mutters, raising his eyebrows at you suggestively.

The insinuation makes your stomach leap into your throat.

Meanwhile, Bradley seems to miss the entire exchange. “Oh my good god, this is so fucking good!” he exclaims as he continues to devour his artisan creation of a sandwich. “What are you up to tonight?” he asks you between bites.

You gulp, suddenly unable to look Jake in the eye. “I kind of just want to make out with somebody.”

“Woah.” Bradley holds up a hand. “We did not need to know that.”

But Jake is staring at you unblinkingly. “Just with anybody?” he asks boldly as Bradley rises from the table.

You eye your brother as he makes his way to the kitchen sink, completely oblivious. You shake your head at your boyfriend's audacity. “Yes, Jake,” you retort. “Just with whoever walks into my face first.”

Jake snorts. “Good to know.”

…

That evening, about an hour after your brother leaves the house, there’s a knock on your front door.

“Since when do you not just barge in?” you ask, opening the door.

Jake, who’s got his hand behind his back, brings out a bouquet of flowers and holds it out for you. “Since I’m trying to make a good impression now.”

You snicker, taking the flowers from his hand and admiring the arrangement. “Well, so far so good, Seresin.”

“Good,” he says, stepping inside and putting his arm around your waist. “Because I’m here to walk into your face.”

You let out a laugh, letting him capture your lips in a kiss.

“So, listen,” he says. “I know you had your heart set on making out. But I thought that we could go somewhere first.”

“Go where?”

“It’s a surprise,” he says, winking at you.

You narrow your eyes at him suspiciously. “If you say haunted house…”

He chuckles. “Good times.”

“For whom?” you exclaim as he ushers you out the door.

“For me, obviously. I got to hold your hand and everything.”

“Aww, you wanted to hold my hand?” You take his hand in yours as the two of you walk to his car.

“I wanted to do more than hold your hand,” he admits, bringing your hand to his lips and giving it a kiss as he opens the door for you.

“Like?” you ask playfully as you climb into the passenger seat.

Jake watches you with a smile as you buckle your seat belt. “Like walk into your face,” he says, kissing you on the mouth again.

…

“Uhh,” you utter, staring at the laundromat sign above the dingy door without stepping out of the car even as Jake pulls open your door. “So, when you said surprise… I didn’t realize we’d need to bring fabric softener.”

“Get out of the car, smartass,” he says, gesturing for you impatiently.

You climb out warily as Jake ducks into his backseat to grab a leather jacket and a pair of sunglasses.

“C’mon,” he says, ushering you toward the door.

“Seresin, what the fuck,” you say, eyeing the homeless encampment at the corner of the establishment.

He pulls open the door and a bell rings as you enter. There are several rows of washing machines and dryers inside and the fluorescent lights overhead flicker every few seconds like you’re in a post-apocalyptic movie. The laundromat is deserted.

Jake approaches the third machine on the far left and opens the top. Then he proceeds to dump in his jacket.

“Jake, you can’t wash leather in a machine!” you hiss, still rooted to the spot by the front door as you take in your surroundings.

“Relax,” he says, and then he tosses in his sunglasses and drops the door.

You eye him skeptically as he beckons you to follow him. “Jake, we said no more haunted houses,” you remind him, slipping your hand in his when he starts toward the back. The flickering of the lights seems to intensify.

Jake glances down at you with a smirk but doesn’t respond. He stops at a vending machine that’s stationed against the back wall. “Twizzlers?” he asks.

“No way!” you say. “Nerds, please.”

“You're so polite today,” Jake notes and you glance at his face just in time to catch a cheeky smirk.

The throwback to your conversation in the kitchen makes your heart convulse for a moment, but you decide to ignore his comment.

Jake slips a bill into the slot of the vending machine. He gets both Nerds and Twizzlers and then starts entering a third letter-number combination.

“What else are you getting?” you ask, scanning the offers for the code he’s entered, which, you quickly realize, doesn’t exist. “That’s not an option.”

But before Jake can respond, the entire vending machine starts to slide to the side, exposing a dimly lit staircase in behind, leading down to a metal door.

“Jake,” you croak, clutching his hand again. “I’m going to murder you. Assuming you don’t murder me first.”

Jake laughs. “Don’t worry, darlin’. If I was gonna murder you, I’d have done it already.” He leads the way down the stairs, although you hang onto his arm so tightly, he might as well be giving you a piggyback ride. When you get to the door, he pushes it open, revealing beyond it a scene unlike anything you’ve ever witnessed in your life.

You walk inside first, captivated by the warmth of the place; by the beauty. Jake follows, confirming his reservation with the host. The bar is like something out of a fairytale – if fairytales had bars. Low lights, glowing candles, a fireplace blazing in the middle of the room. You look up, wondering how you missed the chimney on your way in. Small tables with marble tops dot the floor. Elaborate sconces adorn the walls, and framed, faded photographs compliment the elegant wallpaper. “A speakeasy,” you breathe excitedly as Jake places a hand on your back and leads you to one of the tables.

“Thought we needed a place that was out of the way,” he said, pulling a velvety armchair out for you to sit on.

You give him a look as he walks around the table to sit across from you. “Well, it’s definitely out of the way.”

Jake grins. “It’s got darts,” he says, pointing at the corner to your right.

You give him a smile. “Of course it does.”

He chuckles. “It’s also got a bar that serves vintage cocktails. And their sliders are incredible.”

“How did you find this place?” you ask, perusing the extensive drink menu.

“I’ve uh, been here a few times,” he says vaguely, raising a couple of fingers to alert the server that the two of you were ready to order.

You look up at him questioningly as the waiter arrives. “I’ll have the Old Mule,” you say. Jake orders a whiskey sour and some sliders for the table. “Been here with whom?” you ask the moment the server departs.

Jake throws you a sheepish look. “Well, not with Bradley.”

You narrow your eyes. “You’ve taken another girl here?”

Jake scoffs. “I’ve never taken anybody anywhere.”

You nod, unsurprised. “Except to bed.”

He shakes his head at you with a smirk. “Wasn’t always in a bed.”

“Ew!” You cringe. “I don’t want to know that!”

“You started it.”

“You elaborated,” you retort. Then, after a moment, you press. “Come on, tell me. How did you know about this place?”

Jake sighs. “There was a girl –”

“I fucking knew it!” You shake your head.

“Just let me finish, woman!”

You raise your eyebrows cynically but allow him to continue.

“There was a girl in my squadron –”

“Whom you fucked,” you say nonchalantly, unable to contain yourself.

“No, I did not fuck her,” Jake says under his breath just as the server arrives with your drinks.

You and Jake each give him a polite – albeit uncomfortable – smile. “You didn’t?” you ask skeptically.

“No,” Jake restates. Then, he adds, “Her grandmother –”

“You didn’t,” you croak, horrified.

Jake fixes you with a glare. “I can wait,” he says.

You roll your eyes. “Fine.” You sigh. “Go on and tell me how you fucked her grandmother.”

Jake presses his lips together to hold back a laugh. “Her grandmother was a phenomenal baker. She’d always send us pastries and desserts and, let me tell you, an éclair tastes a hundred times better after a long day of flying. Anyway, I ran into her one day at a farmer’s market. She had about a million bags, so I helped her get to her car. She asked me to join her for a luncheon she was dreading. It was with her old classmates from college. Apparently, this joint’s been their hangout for over half a century.”

You watch Jake with knotted eyebrows and a small smile. “You were her date?”

Jake shrugged. “Not officially. I think she just needed some support because those little old ladies were ruthless. Asking her all kinds of questions she didn’t seem very eager to answer.”

“I wonder why she went at all.”

“They were the only friends she had left, she told me.”

“That’s sad,” you say.

Jake purses his lips. “Anyway, I figured she needs a new friend. So, I’ve been seeing Margaret for close to two years now. This is where we come.”

You blink at Jake in awe. “You’re cheating on me with a grandma?”

Jake laughs. “She knows all about you, actually.”

Your jaw drops. “She does not!”

“It was her idea to bring you here.”

You feel as though you could cry, inexplicably touched that Jake has told somebody about your relationship. “I love her,” you say.

Jake chuckles. “You should come out with us next time.”

You smile at him, relieved that this place wasn’t the setting of yet another one of his hookups. “I’m surprised you never showed Bradley this place.”

Jake shrugs. “Almost took you here a couple times,” he says, taking a sip of his drink.

“Really? Like, before we started dating?”

He nods, smiling sheepishly. “Before I realized why I wanted to take you here.”

You drink for a moment, then say, “I have to ask: what was with the machine upstairs? Your jacket?”

“It’s a donation. Kind of like a ‘pay what you can’ cover,” he responds, rubbing his hands together excitedly when the server arrives with the sliders.

“I love that,” you muse, picking up one of the little burgers and devouring half of it in one bite. “I love everything about this,” you add, covering your mouth as you chew on the most delicious slider you’ve ever tasted.

Jake grins at you proudly. “Now,” he says, changing the subject. “Why are you trying to pimp me out to your brother’s bartender friends?”

You meet his gaze with a smirk. “You know,” you respond casually. “Just trying to keep up the charade.”

Jake narrows his eyes. “I never asked you to do that,” he says.

You shrug. “Couldn’t hurt, right?”

Jake purses his lips in thought, studying you at length. You’re surprised that this doesn’t make you feel uncomfortable like it would have a few months ago. Now, you’re confident enough to maintain eye contact indefinitely if he so chooses. Unless, of course, he makes another suggestive remark.

He doesn't however, and you can't be sure whether you're relieved or disappointed by this. You spend the rest of the evening trying various cocktails and getting your ass handed to you at darts and, before you know it, the two of you are pulling up to your house at the end of the night, deciding which drinks you liked best, because neither of you wants to address the very real possibility that this might have been not only your very first but also your very last date ever.

“Bradley’s home,” you mutter, as though Jake can’t see Bradley’s Bronco in the driveway for himself.

Jake sighs heavily, pulling on the handbrake a little more aggressively than usual.

“You should go,” you say, because your brother would certainly be surprised to see you walk in past midnight with Jake, considering your original plans entailed walking into somebody’s face.

But Jake is already opening his door and stepping out of the car.

“Jake,” you begin, also climbing out of your seat and shutting your door.

But Jake doesn’t wait for you to finish. He walks around the front of the car determinedly and holds out his hand for you to take. “Let’s go,” he says.

You gape at him in alarm. “W-what?”

Jake takes your hand in his and starts for the front door.

“What are you doing?” you ask anxiously, running to keep up with his long strides.

“What I should’ve done in the very beginning,” he responds firmly. He reaches out to turn the doorknob, but the door opens before he even makes contact.

Hangman Tag List:

A/N: The rest of the list will be in the comments. As always, let me know if you don't want to be tagged anymore.

@atarmychick007

@callsign-sunshine

@shanimallina87

@wkndwlff

@thefandomimagines

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@maeleeme

@lynnevanss

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waldau-archived · 3 months

Note

i kindly ask you for a drabble with #20 from the prompt list with mingyu please 🥺🤲

“Kissing in a stairwell, giving them an artificial height difference.” + mingyu

pleaaaase can you imagine how cute this would be, he's so dreamy

it’s not your first date with mingyu, but the way you’re feeling right now is just how you did back then — butterflies in your stomach, the way your hand fit so perfectly in his gloved one, held safely in his pocket because he was worried you’d feel too cold, the way he smiled—

a smile’s still on his lips, not as prominent as it was earlier in the evening, but it’s there. and you’re not even doing anything. you’re just standing at the foot of the staircase leading up to the floor where your apartment is, and you’re staring back at your boyfriend.

“what’s up?”

“thank you for today,” mingyu says, bringing up your hand to his lips to press a kiss to it. “i had fun.”

“aw, don’t thank me for that. i had fun, too. thanks for being free.”

he sighs. “i’d be free every single day of my life if it meant we could go out on more dates.”

you smile. “wouldn’t you get bored, then? seeing me all the time?”

he stares at you like you’ve said something preposterous. “don’t you even think like that, okay? i’ve been—”

you raise your eyebrows when he cuts himself off. “you’ve been what?”

“nothing,” he says, tugging at your hand that’s still in his. “come on, let’s get you back home. it’s cold.”

you don’t press him, instead following his lead as he climbs up the stairs. but he lets go of your hand when you reach the topmost one. you’re left staring down at him when you turn around, something that’s never happened before. you can see the swoop of hair curling on his forehead even better, and the way his eyes are tired yet shining. you’re never going to get tired of him, that much you know for sure.

“you’re shorter than me,” you tease, reaching forward to tug at the chain that lies around his neck. “how do you feel?”

“like you,” he grins, and you roll your eyes. you lean down to kiss his forehead, but he tilts his head up, and you end up kissing his nose. you don’t mind. you love the little mole he has at the end of it, and you have no problem reminding him of how much it should be cherished.

mingyu, however, has other plans. he stands on his tiptoes and reaches up to you, and you have no choice but to press a kiss to his lips, hands around his shoulders to make sure he doesn’t accidentally tumble down the stairs. he leans in for one more, but you’re a bit embarrassed by the setting you’re in.

“anyone can see us, gyu. i’m not keen on any neighbour seeing me make out with my boyfriend.”

he pouts but obliges, following you to your door. before you can unlock it, he grabs your wrist.

“that thing i was saying. i’ve been thinking of asking you to…move in with me. there’s no way i’d ever get tired of seeing you, okay? will you think about it?”

you can’t help but kiss him once again for that, neighbours be damned.

#i have realized i can't write kissing scenes very well sadly #mingyu #fluff #svt fluff #seventeen #established relationship #waldau writes #req #drabbles

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kissingchoso · 1 year

Text

i’m so into the thought of your “best friend” just pressing you into the bed, making out with you.

it starts off as a slow afternoon. the sun was shining directly into your room with a nice summer breeze entering through the crack of your window. your favorite album is quietly playing on the record player somewhere in the corner. and there lies a handsome boy, right on top of you, dancing his lips on yours as if it’s the last thing he’ll ever do.

he excuses this as a way to pass the time. lazily make out with one another until the heat from the summer and your hormones becomes too bothersome and you’re whining for him to pull away.

his tongue traces against your bottom lip before gaining access to your mouth. teeth gently knock into each other every once in a while the more he tilts his head. any onlooker would probably think he’s trying to devour you whole— and for a split second, you would’ve believed it.

he swallows all of your small sounds, every sigh, moan. it’s all claimed by him with no chance of you owning up to it completely.

this is the part where hands wander and your bodies readjust themselves. large hands slide from your hips down to the backs of your knees, pushing them up and out so he can slot his hips in the space. your cotton shorts slide up even further from the new position and right against your clothed cunt do you feel the hardness of his dick pressed up right against you. your smooth legs wrap around his waist to keep him trapped there while your hands slide up to the back of his hair.

you moan quietly against his lips at the new position, silently craving more but you didn’t know where to even begin asking for it.

it’s fine though. your best friend’s got it covered.

he pulls his lips away from yours to allow you to catch your breath, a thin string of saliva connects you two together before inevitably snapping away. you don’t get to properly look at him before he’s diving back down, peppering kisses against your check and all the way down to your sweaty neck.

it’s so hot in there.

a large hand slides its way up and under the tank top you were wearing. the heat from his hand almost feels scorching but that sensation fizzles out to pleasure once it reaches your breast. this is usually how far this goes before he stops completely, but there’s no end in sight this time around. your nipple is teased with his thumb rubbing against it every once in a while and causing it to pert up against his ministrations.

at this time, your moans have picked up much more. your head is pressed against your pillows and your rocking your hips against his without fully realizing it.

he doesn’t realize that he already has begun to grind down into you, offering the both of you some reprieve this way.

the heat becomes more pertinent when he breathes against your neck. his lips found a new spot to assault for a little while but this is a certain spot that has you keening. your body temperature has undoubtedly gone up higher and you can now feel the sweat beads forming against your pores.

you breathe his name out airily, squeezing the strands of hair that find themselves tangled between your fingers. but he doesn’t answer, opting to move his lips and tongue against any skin he finds.

again, you try his name but a little firmer. finally getting the hint, does he pull away to look down at you with far away eyes, struggling to bring himself back to his current reality.

“hm? what’s wrong?” he initially asks, bringing his hand from under your shirt to to cup your cheek. “‘s too much for you?”

quickly, you shake your head. “no, not that,” is all you say, legs tightening against him. the movement causes him to grunt slightly. “what is it then?”

“‘m really hot,” you whisper, pouting up at him. it’s only then does he realize the heat in the room. the once opened window does nothing to stave off the warmth emanating in the air, nor the rising heat from the skin to skin contact your bodies are making. there’s even hair sticking to his damn forehead from how hot he is.

he blinks a couple of times before nodding. “let me close the window and get the AC going, yeah?” he reasons.

while yes, it would be good to get some cold air circulating, he just wants to be between your legs again and making out with you. even if it doesn’t lead to anything more.

before he can move off of you, you grab his elbows. “just take your clothes off…” you say, albeit desperately.

“baby…”

“it’s fine. i promise. ‘s just me,”

“i know, i know. but we can’t go back after i get you completely naked,” he starts, eyes trailing down the bead of sweat that slides from your jaw to the base of your neck. “might not be able to stop myself at that point.”

you reach up from the bed to kiss him a couple of times, each of which he reciprocates immediately. “i don’t want you to, dummy.” you giggle. “if you don’t do anything, i swear to god i might implode or something.”

a devilish grin appears on his face at the implication. “been holding out on me, baby. if i knew i left you like this, i would’ve gotten you naked a long time ago.” he finalized his statement by sitting up, sliding his shirt off completely.

“we can make up for loss time starting now,”

“oh, i plan to sweetheart.”

kaeya, childe, kazuha (biased), aether, kaveh (i have a soft spot for him), hinata (extremely biased), bokuto, sugawara, kuroo, atsumu, gojo, toji, sero, shindou, steve harrington, eddie munson, your other favs ofc <3

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jarofstyles · 9 months

Note

Oh ohhhhh friends to lovers pleaseeeee

6. "I wanna take you so fucking bad."

OHHHHH YES

Patreon

-----

Harry really wasn't sure how he ended up here.

It was a scenario from his dreams, ones he'd never admitted to having to anyone else before, but he didn't know how he'd even gotten into this position with his best friend. Wine night had gotten out of hand, some sort of something had been said and the next thing he knew he had a lapful of Y/N and wine stained lips pressed against his own.

Her pajama pants were pulled tight on her ass, his hands unable to keep the temptation of it away from his brain. Rocking on top of him, she whimpered softly as his lips pressed to her hot throat. The layers between them felt flimsy and he could feel how hot she was for him. His best friend of 5 years, rolling her hips and holding his face against her sweet spot on her neck.

"H-Harry..." She breathed, tugging softly on the hair at the nape of his neck. "It feels so good... Why does it feel so good?" Her slow grind against his prick made him roll his eyes back into his head. It was childish, something he hadn't done in years, but it felt better than his last year of hookups combined. "Why didn't we do this before?"

Y/N always asked the real questions.

"Dunno... Should have." His fingertips pressed into the curve of her ass, the hot skin exposed from her shorts moving up. "God...You smell amazing." It was the little things like that. Teeth nipping her throat and being engulfed in her, realizing just how much he gravitated towards certain candles because they smelled like her. His brain always knew, was always plotting this even if he was trying his hardest not to. "I wanna take you so fucking bad." The voice that came from his throat was unfamiliar to him, wrecked and desperate. "But I can't. Not now."

"No... Please." She begged, pulling him from her neck to look at him. "Please, H. I need it so bad, I can't... I can't stop." He could see it in her face. She meant it. Y/N really wanted him to take her, and god knew his cock was desperate to sink into her hot cunt, get deep inside, stay there. Milk every drop of cum her had inside of her. But not like this.

"Can't... Not when we've been drinking." He frowned. "M'not gonna stop this.... Gonna let you rub yourself on my cock and let you cum. Not that cruel." He squeezed over her ass harder to get that pretty whimper from her mouth. "But I can't do it like this. You deserve more. If I'm going to fuck you... M'gonna do it right." He breathed, connecting their lips again. She tasted so sweet, the tiniest hint of sour from the drinks but it only added to it.

"How?" She whined. "How are you going to fuck me?"

It shouldn't have been so easy for him to spill, but it was. "Need you on a bed. Not my couch." He started, deciding to let his hands slip under her shorts and feel the full warmth of her skin against his. "Strip you down, get to see how gorgeous you are. I know it's gonna ruin me, sweetheart." No lies were told. They wouldn't be able to come back from that. "Kiss down your body... Gonna make little marks for you to remember me by. On your perfect tits, that stomach, those gorgeous thighs... Everywhere I can." His hands aided her rocking, shifting her just so and getting the gasp he'd desperately wanted from her. The thin shorts and his sleep pants were barely layers and he knew this would be the way to get her clit the way she needed.

"Then I'm going to split those thighs open and kiss you down there. Lick you up. Start slow and tease you a little, make you beg for me just like you did before... But then I'll give it to you. Suck on that clit until you can't take it and push my head away, make you cum on my tongue and stretch you out with my fingers. Know you're going to be a sopping fucking mess. Gonna want it all over my face."

"Fuck." Y/N keened, gripping his hair tighter. The action alone made his prick twitch in his poor excuse of pants, feeling the heat of her cunt bleed through and warm him up. Soon enough she'd soak those shorts and he'd be able to feel it make a mess of him. "What else?"

"Greedy thing, aren't you?" He chuckled. "mm.. Want to feel that mouth wrapped around my cock. Dreamt of it so many times but... Think I want our first time to be about you. Dunno how long I'd last with it." The mere idea of her sucking him off had been the subject of many wanks and he knew it would take an embarrassingly short amount of time to orgasm. "So instead, I'd spread you open and take you. I'd want to take you on your back at first- need to see the look on that perfect face while my cock stretches that cunt open." He groaned at the mere thought. "But I think we'd switch around a bit." One hand slipped out of the back of her shorts to go up her shirt instead. The hot skin of her back warmed his palm as he dragged it up and down.

"I'd love t'take you just like this. Watch you bounce on me, make a mess of my lap. Have your tits in my face..." He let his hand graze the side of one, making her shiver. "Suck on them. Make them wet and swollen for me, just like your cunt. But you'd get tired, hm pretty girl? Bouncing up and down like that, gonna make your legs burn... So I'd flip you over and get you on your knees..." His voice was muffled for a moment as she kissed him again with her sugary mouth. "I'd get you on your knees and watch you take me. See your ass move and hit my thighs... How you'd arch your back for me. I think that would be perfect." His hand kneaded her ass, spreading it a bit roughly as she gave him another pretty gasp. Her eyes were bleary and soft as she looked down at him, heat behind the gaze as she rutted on top of him.

"Would you do it hard?" She asked, swallowing thickly. "Would you spank me?"

Harry's eyebrows raised in shock at the question, but it shouldn't have. Of fucking course she was perfect for him. There was no way around it. "Yeah, I would. I'd go at the pace you want... and you're obviously a filthy thing. Had no clue you wanted something like that, but I'd give it to you." he pulled her back down to his lips, slipping his hand out of her shirt to give a light slap to her ass before rubbing over the area to soothe. It wasn't the hardest he could have gone but it was testing the waters. "Like that?"

When she shook her head, he couldn't help but smile. "Harder?" He repeated the action, harder this time. It made her jolt, the stinging skin getting a whimper as she nodded against him. "Fuck me... You're what I needed all along, aren't you? Been under my nose the whole fucking time."

#best friend h #jarofstyles #harry styles one shot #harry styles imagine #harry styles smut #harry writing #harry styles fanfic #harry drabble #harry styles blurb #harry styles fanfiction #harry styles writing #harry smut #harry fluff #harry angst #harry styles au #harry styles fic #harry styles fluff #harry styles angst

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sunnyswide · 5 months

Text

Murderer POLY 141 🔪 x Oblivious Female Reader

NSFW/MDNI (sexual activities and sexual themes)

Instead of military.. Why not just a bunch of fucking murders.

To you, it seemed so odd that they would show up at the most convenient of times. Nonetheless, you were mighty grateful for the help. For the quick fix-up on your car. The multitude of groceries you had. The short-lived stalker you never heard from again. The drunken who suddenly approached you late at dusk, but also got taken care of quite swiftly. The fruitful amount of cash that was hidden under piles of junk in the drawer. They were a bit tinted with red… Chalking that up to “Oh I must have put that there” even though you had no recollection.

But to them, it was all fun and games. Who'd be first caught or who'd be the last one standing?

Gaz was just so kind, inviting you to every opportunity for tea or snack breaks. You’re surprised when he tells you he lives at the complete opposite side of town.

“Thats an hour away Gaz! Isn't it exhausting?”

“Not at all, I have work here.”

He lies theough his teeth but hey? Isn't it all lies around here. As long as your adorable mind doesn't realize.. It won't hurt. Just like the many times he takes you to where he resides, eyes staring at the two of you.

Course you’re scared, but he promises it's because they’re not too keen with visitors. Not realizing the multitude of people don't seem to be glaring at you. But at him.

You don't ask questions and go along with it. Letting him lead you to his apartment that seemed to be barely lived in.. But it doesn't matter after he Fucks those pretty thoughts out of your mind. Making you see stars as he finishes inside of you for the third time.

But Price isn't that open. He keeps the conversation entertaining but reveals absolutely nothing about himself as he listens to you talk.

He loves the expressions you make, your lips pouting when you talk about the scary days you had over the week because of some weird stalker.

“I promise! There is someone following me!”

“Then why don’t you let me take you home”

He walks you home every night the two of you go out. The one day he doesn't, you swear you could hear an extra pair of footsteps. Looking around deliriously you opt for a run instead, going through alleyways and shortcuts. Until you accidentally bump into someone, causing you to trip over your feet.

“Gah! Sorry!”

You look up to see Price! He looked shocked at first but soon composed himself, taking your hand in his.

“Dont be sorry”

He smiles gently, kissing the top of your forehead while you burst into soft sobs. You swear you saw something.. Or someone else behind him. On the floor? Maybe it was your imagination..

He takes you home but you beg him to stay the night.

“Can you stay?..”

He holds you tight, pressing his fingers deeper into your hips. This only leads to an excuse to fuck you on his cock as an “apology” for scaring you. He whispers sweet nothings to you as he overstimulates your dripping cunt, making you cockwarm him even after cumming.

But after meeting Ghost and Soap, the perfect self-proclajmed duo, you couldn’t help but find yourself attracted. They were a mix of dark humor and wholesome dad jokes.

They invite you for a quick drink as friends. Friends that sit too close to each other.. Ghost insisting you sit in the middle as Soap drapes an arm around your waist, pouring you more and more Alcohol you didn’t want to drink.

Sooner or later the “fun” was coming to an end as you try to stand up, toppling over Ghost’s lap. They chuckle at your vulnerable state, taking it up as a reason to carry you back home. Of course this attracting other drunken dudes to come up to them asking them where they think they’re going.

“Cmoonnnn, We can all have a piece of that”

Soap smirks.. He was damn happy they even asked.

“Why not gentlemen”

But you didn't see what happened after as Ghost drove you back to his place with Soap after the quick charade. Soap smelled a bit.. Odd.. His hands covered in a.. Red substance.

“Just wine luv”

A few minutes later you sobered up quite quickly, surprised even though you drank so much. But hey no hangover!

And as a thank you they happily ate you out. Getting Fucked by both of them at once felt.. Ruthless. Your clit brimmed with overstimulation as Simon rubbed circles over it and your mouth forced wide open as Soap shoved his shaft deeper and deeper.

You sobbed quietly into the pillow as Soap rammed his Dick into your sopping cunt, relieved for the pounding to stop until Ghost took his time teasing your entrance. Making you gasp..

“Fu..ck.. Wai-wait”

Begging? Uselsss.

He didn't mind you screaming for him to stop. Overestimation turned into torture for your pussy. Brutilized after just one night, you’d had to come back to them for more right?

But it wasn't much of your choice to come back.

Part two

#simon cod #cod #cod smut #ghost smut #Simon smut #ghost x reader #Gaz x reader #price x reader #price smut #soap x reader #soap smut #poly 141 #price cod #Gaz cod #soap cod #simon riley smut

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keen-li · 4 months

Text

The fics I have my focus on right now are Mr right...pt2 and what you need ch3.

But I struggling which one to write first, I find it stressful to write parallel with other stories so I'd prefer if you told me which one you want first.

#keen li in shambles #keen li asks #keen li #fic writing

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kithtaehyung · 3 months

Note

I found this and thought of you :)

Everyday I think about 3tan and minted😫

Awhhhh wait🥺 this is actually very accurate lmfao so thank you for sending :’)) just add shower and random times during the day and it’s spot on😂 My mind is swirling rn, especially in the midst of a true writing run👍

Here’s to both things coming!

#the ideas and breakthroughs are flying!!#keen-li #asks:3tan #asks:minted #lovely people #*ryenfictalk #mailbox💌

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hazelfoureyes · 6 months

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The Safeword is RadioApple (part 4 - Alastor’s win?)

Read the first part here for intro and warnings and then decide:

Did Lucifer win rock paper scissors? Cum here

Did Alastor win rock paper scissors? Keep reading

Alastor’s eyes sank down to you, looking past his nose as Luci began to kiss at his jawline. “Our wise king”, he smirked, “had an idea. Would you be interested in hearing us out?”

Us? You nodded, almost knocking a headache right back into your skull.

“Luci”, did he just call him Luci?, “thinks we should show you our teamwork skills. But you seem quite tired today… so perhaps, our little duckie could be the one connecting us, instead of you, darling?”

Your brain couldn’t process anything happening. Not sounds or sights let alone grammar and implications and tone of voice. The word ‘duckie’ disintegrated neurons. Luci stopped his slow and wet kisses down Alastor’s neck to flash the most sinful look your way, “What do you say, kitten?” He had never looked so much like the devil before. There was a power you couldn’t put your finger on, something pouring from his body into the air around you he had never brought into the bedroom. You remembered the power that the video of him defending the hotel had held and how it brought you here in the first place.

Quick, someone tell Charlie. You’d managed to make it to heaven without even leaving hell.

The shock continued as the men took to task undressing you, then each other. Alastor never got fully nude around Lucifer unless it was in the bath or shower, but he let Lucifer strip him bare.

Lucifer lied on top of you, his knees pushing your legs open as his mouth came to yours. His still soft cock gently pressing into your crotch, his smile making your teeth bump into each other with every reconnection. Stopping, he looked behind and then back to you. You watched him shake his ass a little as he lifted it up into the air. A second later his eyes closed and he moaned above you. You could see between your bodies to where Alastor was, dark and unusually shiny tentacles pushing up against Luci’s ass.

Your breath got trapped in your throat, making it difficult to reply when Alastor’s disembodied voice asked you, “Would you like to be stretched, darling? To take Luci?”

Lucifer looked down at your face, red and staring at the scene behind him, “Looks like a yes.” You nodded.

Slippery with lube, you felt something slide into you with ease, tapered and gentle. Conveniently, Alastor was able to shift the width of his summoned tentacles at will, waiting to hear Luci’s sounds dip into more pleasure than just adjustment, he let his tendrils grow in him.

He could hear Lucifer’s moans get muffled as Luci resumed kissing you, tongue roaming into your mouth to taste you. Alastor felt compelled to bring his hand to his own growing erection, watching his extensions push into you both. His little pair of does, waiting eagerly for him. He found himself confused by what the sight was doing to him. Like collecting souls but a different part of his brain was lighting up. Quite the different collection. Two people, one a keen and kind woman unneeding in anyone’s company but deserving everyone’s affection; the other the unparalleled King of Hell, former favorite of God. One too good for his bloodied hands. One too regal to kneel to him.

Yet both lying soft before him and moaning around his extensions.

The room was spinning now for Alastor. Cock weeping as he lazily touched himself.

The thought came to him to just ignore Luci’s part in this and fuck you both in whatever way he could, but in the growing haze of his power high he managed to remember the point of this. Teamwork. He could dominate you both, reminding you who was the one “wearing the pants” (when behind closed doors) another day.

You felt Lucifer’s cock stiffening against your thigh, bringing a whimper out of you.

“Enough,” Luci groaned.

“What’s that, your majesty?” Not an honest question.

“Enough stretching. Fuck me.”

Alastor felt a small twitch of annoyance, “Very demanding, aren’t we?” But when Luci wiggled his butt side to side, the feeling fell apart. Memories of Luci’s soft flesh flooding back. A different taste to you, but one he still enjoyed. A snack he actually could see himself craving.

“Can I come in, kitten?” Luci’s lips were soft and puffy from repeated kisses to your own. Speaking was still a struggle but you managed to croak, “Yes please.”

“Kittens ready, Bambi.” Not said as mockingly as it usually was.

You felt the tendril slide out of you and Luci’s heat prod at your entrance. Lucifer kissed you, tongue feeling over yours and distracting you before thrusting his considerable length in. One long intrusion, lubed lips sliding as he sunk in. Buried to the hilt, Luci sucked on your tongue as you tensed under his lithe body. He stayed busy with your mouth until you relaxed again.

His tail whipped up and found Alastor’s heat, slipping around and hooking under his balls and tugging the sinner gently toward his ass.

Alastor began to wonder if he had actually won the rock paper scissors match or not. He didn’t intend to make the breathy moan in response, Lucifer beckoning him to enter his now softened hole. Claws settling into the smaller man’s hips as he stared for a moment where Lucifer’s cock was hidden in you. He could see your wetness pushing out with tiny twitches.

He pressed down and forward on Luci, spreading his cheeks before pressing into his body. You felt Luci’s breath hitch, watching his face as he moaned, “Fuuuck.”

Was this fair? Were you too lucky of a sinner? Was there a second hell you should be sent to?

As Alastor entered Lucifer, you felt Luci’s cock moving in you. As Alastor pulled out, Luci’s own pulled back a little too. As Alastor thrust in, so did Luci. Your head craned back, stomach tightening as you considered you were somehow fucked by Alastor by way of Luci’s movements. How could you feel so close to someone you weren’t touching? How could you feel Alastor through the warm skin of Lucifer?

Luci lifted himself up on his elbows, eyes closed as he let delicious sounds tumble from his throat and down to you.

Lucifer always enjoyed hugs, and this could be considered the ultimate hug! Ass full of Alastor, cock sheathed in you, he felt impossibly loved. Alastor was panting behind him, cock still growing in Lucifer with every pull of his clenching asshole. You breathing heavy under him, his impressive cockhead knocking at your womb.

Aah, he wanted more. He wanted to feel more. Surrounded by pleasure and breaths and warmth and wetness. Horns began to grow slowly from his forehead, the prideful king feeling greed. More. Give him everything. Fuck him like he was the downfall of man, because he fucking was. He tempted humanity into ruin so ruin him in turn. He gave humans sin, now return the favor.

“Alastor-!,” Lucifer rolled back onto Alastor, dragging his swollen cock past your g-spot as he did, “I won’t break. Fuck me.”

Alastor’s hips stilled, he felt his vision distort in front of him but had no time to regain composure as Lucifer began pushing on and off him. He could hear your suddenly high pitched moans coming from somewhere, his eyes closing.

Torn. Listen to the command and destroy the tiny body under him? Or disobey, and miss out on the pleasure of losing control?

He didn’t have to decide, eyes opening in time to watch Lucifer look back over his shoulder as he bounced his ass on Alastor’s crotch, “Breed me, Allie.”

Alastor wasn’t aware he had kinks, nor that the word had any meaning other than ‘bend’, but that didn’t stop his body’s reaction.

You shuddered, the words going straight to your crotch. Which is also where Luci’s cock was stuffed back as Alastor fucked down into the man with punishing force and speed. Luci’s eyes were losing focus above you. His movements into you just the bouncing of his hips as Alastor now seemed fully intent on chasing some impossible goal.

Just past Luci’s horns you could see dark branch like antlers reaching out. The feeling of Luci snapping in and out of you, just a few inches actually leaving you but it was enough, had your mouth hanging open with soundless gasps. You could feel yourself getting wetter around him, dripping down your cheeks.

Luci’s eyes tried to stay on you, fighting back the call of subspace, “Kiss me, kitten. I need to feel you, too.”

He leaned down and offered his open mouth, tongue snaking out. You sat up on your arms to reach. Licking up his tongue and to his lips before closing your mouth around his. He tangled with you, occupying your mouth and pussy.

Alastor’s mind was fuzzy around the edges as he tore his eyes from Luci’s hole to watch you two kissing. A fire was burning through him, an arousal he hadn’t felt before when seeing people kiss. Perhaps because you two were his.

Could he say that? His hips didn’t stop, humping Lucifer’s backside like an animal in rut. Rut. He lifted one leg, bending his knee to get more power behind his thrusts.

Alastor grabbed Luci’s right wrist and held it at the small of Luci’s back and pushed down. Luci crashed into you, knocking the breath from your lungs. Alastor’s freehand came to your bent legs and left small scratches up the sides of your thighs.

You tapped Luci twice on his arm where your hands were gripping. His tail sent the message to Alastor’s waist where it had the larger demon leashed.

A lighthouse in the fog, Alastor took both hands off of you and Lucifer and slowed, waiting.

“Don’t crush her, Alastor. Just me.” Lucifer sighed, taking the chance to catch his breath.

Alastor rubbed your thighs, gentle circles massaging into you, “Forgive me, wont you? Momentarily lost my senses.”

You clenched around Luci, who moaned out your name in response. Alastor took a second to survey the sex pile before him. He took a hold of both Luci’s wrists and pulled Luci’s chest off of you, “Did I hear you right? You won't break?” Alastor spoke into Luci’s shoulder before cutting into skin with his teeth. Lucifer could only groan, “Nngh Alas—-,” clenched teeth through a wave of pleasure and pain, “-stor.”

Your hands reached up to pet at Lucifer’s body. As Alastor started again you pressed down gently where you could see Alastor pushing out beneath Lucifer’s stomach. Luci bit his lip. Hands here and there, body used and petted. Your cunt super heated and dripping around him, making obscene sounds every time his skin was pulled from yours. This is what he wanted.

Lucifer felt Alastor expanding in him, blood rushing for a final push before his orgasm. He wanted to feel it, Alastor’s hot cum flooding him.

“Please, fill me up,” it was the last full sentence Luci could manage as Alastor slipped back into primal autopilot. Hips pistoning into Luci’s ass with sharp and sticky slaps.

“Ffuuuuu-,” Luci’s moans melted into pleasured screams, his voice suddenly higher as the air was fucked out of his body. Muscles tightening, he wished he could hold your hand as his orgasm surprised him.

Your gentle sounds, noises pushed out of your body with the slide of Luci’s cock against your cervix, quieted as you felt a rush of warmth. You were quickly becoming addicted to that feeling.

“Cumming?” Alastor asked, hearing Luci’s change of pitch and feeling the sudden spasms so strong around his dick it felt like Luci was sucking him in to his body. You moved your head to finally get a good look at Alastor.

He was sweating, face flush and lips peppered with tiny cuts from where his teeth bit down too hard. You nodded to him, Luci going completely silent as his eyes seemed to spin in his skull.

Alastor’s smile softened at the sight of you, “Feeling good, dear?”

“Best hangover ever.”’ You said.

He hummed happily, lowering Luci’s upper body to rest on you, he lifted Luci’s ass up with both hands and fucked the devil with no worries of hurting you. Luci made a kind of half gasp half squeak with every thrust. A whimpered, “slower, sensitive” into your neck. As Alastor milked himself empty with Luci’s taut hole, Luci’s dick slipped out of you, soft and sticky head being swung against your clit with the after-thrusts of Alastor’s orgasm.

You had two thoughts. One, you were suddenly grateful for Alastor’s normally nearly non-existent sex drive. If you all attempted this as often as Luci and You enjoyed sex, you’d all be raw and dehydrated on a daily basis. And Two, you were so horny still that it nearly hurt. Unaware women could get blue balls, you pushed your thighs together and ground up a little into Lucifer.

A moment of silence. The two partners above you riding out their shared sensations, Alastor still very slowly moving, Lucifer hissing with your body hitting at this overly stimulated dick.

Luci rolled off of you to return to your right side. Alastor walked to the bathroom, cleaning himself before returning to your left side. Your breath was finally calming, covers pulled over your quickly cooling bodies. Alastor pulled you into him, spooning you as you faced Luci.

Lucifer was glowing, everything had gone to plan. He knew Alastor would never let him have you to the extent he wanted. Not while he saw Lucifer as a threat to the relationship. And while he had accepted that initial offering of sex with you with zero interest in Alastor, he had come to find him…palatable. If being with you meant being with Alastor, too, he had decided during your praise of them at the party the other night that he would endear the radio demon to him.

He shuddered at the emptiness he felt now. Maybe the plan had worked too well…was he such a great deceiver he managed to trick himself into liking Alastor?

Luci watched your hand snake between your thighs as you opened them under the covers. Soft features now erotic, eyes half lidded and mouth agape, he realized Alastor had taken to task helping you finish. He took the opportunity to kiss your cheeks, your forehead, the bridge of your nose. He whispered sweet compliments and praise into your flushed skin as you lazily found a small release around Alastor. The ache melted from lap as you finally snapped that string of tension.

You pulled off of Alastor and crawled over Luci, “You’re in the middle today.” You took your place as big spoon and watched Alastor scoot closer to Luci, eyes nervously looking everywhere else.

Perhaps it was the hormones from his arousal, or the debauched scent in the air of sex, but he was seeing that space you typically occupied not as an obstacle to the person on the other side but a bridge. Luci lied there, spent and grinning. He was a connection to you, a shared something Alastor wasn’t comfortable confronting yet that deepened the well of affection you each pulled from.

His let his arm extend, resting on Lucifer’s hip as your own hugged Luci from behind. As post orgasm exhaustion dragged you into an early sleep, you drifted off to the sight of Alastor smiling at you, his hand settling beside Luci’s on the pillow.

ଳ⊹₊ ⋆ masterlist

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barcaatthemoon · 6 months

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good morning || ingrid engen x reader ||

you're not a morning person, but ingrid tries to make an early morning easier on you.

you had never been one for an early wake up. even whenever ingrid let you sleep in, things weren't exactly easy. luckily, ingrid had been around you, both as a friend and your girlfriend, to know exactly how to make waking up easier for the both of you. admittedly, it was easier now that the two of you were together and ingrid had learned the quickest possible way to get you out of a bad mood.

"morning eskling," ingrid said softly. she was always careful to speak soft and quiet to you in the morning. ingrid noticed the way that you whined and tried to turn onto your stomach to get away from her. "come on, we need to get up."

"no," you grumbled. ingrid smiled to herself at the way your accent really shone through whenever you were tired. you tried to get away from her, but ingrid leaned over to press kisses to your cheek. she was peppering every bit of your face and neck in kisses, only stopping when you turned over to lay on your back. "all that and you won't give me a real kiss?"

"come on, let's get up and then i'll give you more kisses than you'll know what to do with," ingrid promised you. you were pouting the entire time, but you did follow ingrid out of bed and into the bathroom for your morning routine. she moved much quicker than you, which really just meant that by the time you got to the kitchen, she had two of your pre-prepped breakfast bowls and cups of coffee ready.

"you're a godsend." you sat down at the bar and immediately dug into your food. ingrid smiled as she sipped on her coffee and watched you. she didn't understand how you consistently ate like you were starving. it didn't matter what time of day it was or how much food you had, you ate the same way every single time. it had been a pretty big point of teasing for a lot of your teammates at various clubs. "ahem, my kisses."

"not when you've got yogurt all over half your face," ingrid teased. you pulled the inside of your shirt up to wipe away the bottom of your face. ingrid sighed as she leaned in, finally giving you what you wanted. "i swear you're like a toddler sometimes."

"i was much worse as a toddler, just ask my mami or ona. apparently i used to have quite the biting problem," you told her. ingrid believed it, she had never been with someone who was as keen on marking your territory with hickeys as you were. she thought it was some ridiculous possessive bullshit, but you were the least jealous person that she had ever met.

"you do realize that you'll probably need to go take a shower before we go to training now, right?" ingrid asked as she watched you spill a bit of your coffee on yourself. you were almost always a complete mess in the morning. you quickly downed the rest of your coffee and put your dishes into the sink before you raced off into the bathroom.

ingrid patiently waited for you to get out of the shower. you looked a lot more awake than you had been just moments before, but she could still see how tired you were. ingrid felt bad for making you get up so early, but the two of you had a long day ahead of yourself. the call time for training had been moved up hours ahead to allow for everybody who had resigned or signed for the first time to get their picture taken before the actual practice commenced.

"ingrid?" you called out as you sat down in the passenger's seat.

"yes, eskling," ingrid answered. you pouted at her, and she knew what you wanted before you even asked.

"can i have another kiss or like, five?" you asked. ingrid chuckled as she leaned over the console and pulled you in for a kiss. the first couple were nothing more than quick pecks, but you managed to hold her in for the third one. after that, ingrid gave you one more quick peck. you pouted as she started to pull away, which was when you felt her press one last kiss to your lips.

this one was the kiss to really wake you up. she squeezed your jaw a little, just enough for you to open your mouth. her tongue slipped past your lips, licking into your mouth several times as the hand on your jaw migrated down to your neck. ingrid squeezed gently, causing you to gasp into her mouth. you were definitely in a bit of a haze whenever ingrid really pulled away this time to pull out of her parking spot.

"i love you," you mumbled as you rested your head against the headrest and looked at her. ingrid placed one of her hands on your knee, squeezing gently as she smiled over at you.

"i love you too," ingrid told you. your heart fluttered in your chest at her words, something that you didn't think you'd ever get over. you could hear her tell you that she loved you a million times and it would never lose its magic.

#woso fanfics #woso x reader #woso imagine #ingrid engen imagine #ingrid engen x reader

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songmingisthighs · 2 years

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Two Is Better Than One

February Filth Fest - extra; size training/size kink, ftfwb (?)

group : ateez

pairing : mingi × reader × yunho

genre : smut

word count : 5.5 k

warning : mdni, explicit sex; piv, threesome, size training, size kink, friends with benefits relationship, teasing, unprotected sex, creampie

a/n : i am but a human, i was tempted to write this and i couldn't help myself. this was not planned for fff but i just asgnsognspso i can't not, yknow ? i am a whorish whore, i am an A B O M I N A T I O N. and i kinda went overboard with this, i didn't even realize i was rambling away. anyways enjoy :D

buy me coffee ?

Mingi's sweater felt comfortable on you, it was warm and it smelled like him. Not just his perfume, but his own scent. You've always loved the fact that he appreciated fashion down to the fabric and he ALWAYS has a keen eye. What you loved most about it was how Mingi was always willing to share his clothing items with you. And thank God he did because it made the conversation you were having with Mingi WAY easier.

"So... you want to have sex with me..." Mingi started off, looking at you, who were sitting on his bed with your legs pulled to your chest, confusedly. "As friends," you intercepted, making Mingi smack his forehead sardonically, "Right, of course, as friends, because you... Want more experience?" He asked, making sure he didn't heard you wrong. You huffed, cheeks red in embarrassment, "And because I want to get used to guys who are... You know..." You trailed off as you waved your hands at his general direction, avoiding eye contact with him, "On the bigger side."

Truly, you wanted the ground to split in half and swallow you whole because that was hard to hear, say, and experience.

It all started when you went out with your girlfriends a couple of nights ago. Their open discussion about the partners they have been with came up and soon everyone was describing the penises they've taken. While you didn't exactly have a weekly quota to fill, the number of your sexual partner was still on the normal side but one thing that your friends caught on was that the size you took were usually those in the medium to the small side. Then the jokes rolled in and you hated that. Obviously, you could've lied, you could've made the claim that you had actually taken a man whose dick is monster sized but the words died in your mouth. But at the same time, an idea popped into your head. Your best friend. Or his roommate.

Mingi chuckled, making you groan because you thought he was going to make fun of you. "Why did you think of me?" he asked, voice void of malice or tease, simply curiosity. But his question didn't make you feel better because you were forced to tell him how you thought of him in the first place. You'd have to be honest that you checked him out more times than you could admit in whatever clothing he wore. It was a known fact that Mingi looked like a damn model and that fucked you up quite a bit. You would have to confess that whenever you and he go swimming, your eyes would automatically zero in on his crotch, watching how the fabric of his swim trunks clung onto his crotch, perfectly accentuating his OBVIOUSLY BIG-looking dick. Mingi waited for your answer, but all he could see was how your face had gone a deeper shade of red, announcing your embarrassment to him wordlessly. As his eyes trailed down, he took notice of the way your legs clenched together, the expanse of your knees appearing down from his sweater that was too long for your body and your bare knees touching. Your state let him know what you were thinking, and what your answer was to his question. Or at least an idea.

You were surprised when you felt the bed dip right by your foot and even more so when he took your legs and pulled them to either side of his body. When you looked up at him, Mingi was sporting a mischievous grin, staring at you with a knowing look that made you visibly swallow the lump that was forming in your throat. "Been checking out my goods, haven't you?" he teased, adding a chuckle at the end to further let you know that he was being a tease. You pouted and were about to kick him with your right leg but failed as he managed to pull the leg and slung it over his left shoulder as he simultaneously pulled you closer to him so that your hips were on his lap and your upper body lay flat on your back. "Do you think I'm hot?" he asked, tilting his head slightly to the side to faux innocence while his left hand tickle the skin on your upper knee where his hand rested. You rolled your eyes and mindlessly mumbled to him, "Of course, I think you're hot, I fucking have eyes," not realizing that Mingi could hear you perfectly. Pleased with your answer, Mingi chuckled and leaned forward to trap you under him with his hands on either side of your head, "Is that why you wanna fuck me? You want to tell your friends that you had sex with your hot, big-cocked best friend?" he teased, face coming closer to yours that you could feel his breath fanning on your face. "Look at me," he demanded, forcing you to look up at him, staring into his eyes to see a glint of both playfulness and want.

When Mingi dove down to take your lips in his, you were caught very off guard. You didn't expect your talk with Mingi, your request, to be taken so seriously by the man to the point that he was now on his way to let you know how it feels to be taking a cock with a size that you've never tried before. The intrusion of Mingi's tongue in your mouth made you gasp. Mingi took that chance to fully explore the cavern of your mouth, moaning into it as he pressed his body close to yours as best as he could. Your right leg which was on Mingi's shoulder was folded in half while your left fell around his waist at the pressure of his body against you. You could feel his dick pressing against your core and your head was swimming with the thought of finally being able to feel its shape after the long time you spent only oggling at it when given the chance. It didn't occur to you how perverted you sound but you quickly shove the thought away to enjoy the feeling of Mingi on you.

You took a deep breath, gasping for air even when Mingi pulled his mouth off of you. "You're wilder than I expect you to be, (y/n). I never thought you'd be so ambitious that you wanted to be used to taking a big cock," he chuckled on your skin, his warm breath tickling your skin and the vibration of his voice travelled to cover the area where his lips made contact. "Or maybe you just wanna see and feel my cock inside you, huh? Using that lame fucking excuse just to appear innocent," his head lifted from your neck, smirking down at you as you felt his hands moving inside his sweater that you were wearing, eyes widening when he realized what he felt, "You're not wearing a shirt under this?" he asked, pleasantly surprised. You pursed your lips and shook your head, not knowing why he was so surprised, "I never wear anything underneath when I borrow your clothes," you stated simply.

The new information entered Mingi's ears and run around his head continuously until he was able to understand what it was you were saying. The guttural groan that left Mingi's throat made your heart clench, stomach drop, and pussy weep. "There goes my fantasy coming true," he said before quickly pulling the sweater you wore off, exposing the flimsy sleep shorts you were wearing along with your bare breast. "You thought of me?" you asked, having your turn teasing him with a mischievous grin on your face, expecting him to deny you or even to poke back at you in retaliation. But instead, you saw him nod as he gently kneaded your breasts, his hands rough and firm but his movements were so soft and careful as if he didn't want to harm you, "Of course, a girl like you, how can I not? The day you first wore my shirt, I jerked off at the thought of you masturbating in it, the day we went swimming, I had to excuse myself so I can imagine cumming on your tits. You don't know how much I wanted to see you naked like this," he confessed, tweaking your nipples to make you moan out loud. "Well," Mingi chuckled as he eyed your sleep shorts, "More naked than this I supposed."

Mingi spared you a glance, seemingly asking for permission from you even though he could just easily strip you naked and has his way. Even in this position, he was still your gentle giant of a best friend, ever so considerate and kind. Though the reality was that you were about to find out just how rough he could be.

With your permission through the nod you gave, Mingi carefully let your left leg off of his shoulder so when he take your bottom off, there would not be any intrusion. The hands that were on your breasts slid down your body, his fingers catching on the hem of your shorts as he purposefully let his thumb rest on your mound, directly on your nub. The pressure he put made you whimper out, surprised at the suddenness of it. Mingi leaned his body down to press his lips on your stomach so he could drag it down as his hands work efficiently, pulling both your shorts and your panties off to finally expose you in your naked glory to his eyes. When you felt your bottom was free of clothing and the pieces were tossed somewhere on Mingi's floor, joining his sweater, you felt his lips rest on your lower belly. He peppered kisses around the area and only in that area, not going lower which made you frustrated as your cunt could feel his presence so close to it yet it wasn't getting the attention it deserved.

"Is this what you two do when I'm not around?"

You snapped out of your pleasure haze and looked to the side to see Yunho standing in the doorway of Mingi's room. His face was neutral safe for the high tilted arch of his left eyebrow as he took in the position you and Mingi were in. You moved to cover yourself but Mingi remained unbudging, even displeasedly grunting at you. "Am I interrupting?" Yunho joked, chuckling at how you were scattering to try to cover yourself while Mingi looked like he couldn't be bothered.

Finally, with a final push, you were able to get Mingi off of you. In return, he pulled you close to him, shielding your exposed front side from Yunho as he kept a possessive arm around your waste. Perhaps you were seeing things, but for a second you swore you saw something like disappointment flashing on Yunho's face. "You're back from the gym?" Mingi asked, too casually for your liking considering the state you were in. Yunho nodded at Mingi's question dropping his gym back in the hallway, near Mingi's doorway, "Yeah, San wanted to do legs today and I took a shower there before coming home," he shrugged before nodding towards the both of you, "Now, care to tell me what this is?" he asked whilst simultaneously taking his slow steps into the room, closer to where your bare body was, making you subconsciously lean closer into Mingi. The way your body curled to avoid his gaze made the corner of Yunho's mouth twitch, almost breaking out into a grin.

Casually, Mingi shrugged at his roommate, "(y/n) here wants to try taking a big cock so she asked me," he said oh too simply which earned him a slap on his chest. The impact caused him to jolt slightly and turn his gaze from his roommate to you, "What? That's what you told me!" he whined, bottom lip jutting out in a pout while you glared at him, "Well you didn't have to tell him that!" you hissed, embarrassed and annoyed that he so cavalierly shared that intimate information with his equally hot friend. "Whoah," Yunho interrupted just as Mingi was about to answer you, "If you wanna try taking a big cock, why not ask me?" he asked directly at you. Your eyes widened, surprised at the question Yunho asked you. Never in a million years would you have expected to hear such a question from Yunho. He was casually offering himself for you to use.

To be honest, it wasn't like you hadn't thought of him. Between Yunho and Mingi, you were more used to Mingi and you were just so used to being open to Mingi that it was a no-brainer that Mingi was the first person you go to. Just like how you know Mingi was big, you know that Yunho was big too. You can't exactly compare the two because you haven't seen their bare cocks (yet), but you could make an estimation in your brain. But now Yunho's offering his cock for you to use as well if you need it. You were pretty sure your brain was making up shit in your head.

Snapping you out of your shocked trance, you noticed that Mingi was laughing heartily, "Oh dude, she liked you saying that, her pussy was clenching!" He announced. Your eyes widened out of surprise as red covered your face from embarrassment while Yunho broke out chuckling with a grin on his face. "Mingi! How could you say that!?" you scolded, slapping him on his chest again before trying to get out of his grasp in favour of hiding under his duvet but his grip was too tight on you. It was comfortably tight but very restricting, you tried wiggling around to get out but all you found was that you were still trapped and your pussy was rubbed just right on his thighs.

A pair of hands suddenly placed themselves on your shoulders, instinctively making you look up. Yunho was staring down at you with a smile so gentle but in contrast, his eyes has a teasing glint to them. "Don't worry baby, I find it VERY endearing that you want me too," he said in hopes that his words would comfort you even slightly.

At his words, your eyebrows furrowed, noticing something that he said. "I'm sorry, 'too'?" you asked, not sure whether or not you heard correctly. Yunho nodded nonchalantly as if the information he just revealed was common knowledge and/or no big deal at all. But the look on your face said otherwise, it showed him that you really didn't know that you were wanted by him all this time. And Yunho found great pleasure in it, he felt a wave of arousal coursing through him once again. The first time was when he hear Mingi said that you wanted to take his big cock and fit it in your cunt (he was paraphrasing, of course), and now this. You never considered the possibility of Yunho wanting you. He revelled in the knowledge that you were just so precious, especially to him.

The hands that were carefully placed on your shoulders soon made their move, pulling you back so that your body fell onto his toned, strong torso, releasing you from Mingi's grip. Yunho then swooped in to kiss you in his upside-down position. It was quite awkward but it felt nice because somehow Yunho made the position work. Whilst your mouth was occupied by Yunho, Mingi took you off of his lap so he could slide back slightly to reposition and take off his clothing. "Yunho, look," Mingi called, taking Yunho's attention away from you momentarily to point at his grey sweatpants, specifically on the spot you sat on his thigh, "(y/n)'s cunt is definitely dripping. Look at the pool she made," he pointed out, grinning proudly. While Yunho smirked at that, you looked at it in utter horror. "Dude, don't tease her like that, that's actually so hot," Yunho said as he licked his lips, hungry for your taste, before diving down to attach his lips with yours again, not giving you a chance to react his words.

You reacted, however, when Mingi bend your legs on your knees and spread them wide enough to fit himself in between them comfortably. Yunho was preoccupying you so well that you didn't realize what Mingi was up to until you felt his fingers probing your pussy. The feeling was so sudden that you gasped and detached yourself from Yunho but your hand clung to him for support. "You're so wet (y/n), did you start leaking when we started talking about your need to fuck a huge cock?" Mingi asked, smirking cockily as he began to enter you. At the feeling of your opening clenching down on him, Mingi shuddered and exhaled sharply, your tightness was thrilling to him. "Did your previous partners not fuck you right or something? How can you be this tight?" Mingi groaned the more he move around in your pussy, even pulling you slightly forward to him, slightly detaching you from Yunho slightly.

With you preoccupied with Mingi, Yunho took this as a chance to pull away so he could take his shirt and pants off as he kept a close eye on you and Mingi. Mingi had you repositioned by now, laying down on the bed as he busied his mouth with teasing your opening. Yunho felt his dick hardened at the sight of you moaning, back arching with your pebbled nipples pointing to the sky, arms going wild, moving around aimlessly due to the pleasure Mingi was giving you. You froze however when Yunho slotted himself behind you, allowing your body to rise slightly as he rested your head on his chest, moving you around as if you weighed nothing. "I want to touch you too," Yunho whispered in your ear, making your body shudder from the words he used and the way his breath blew on your earlobe. In a flash, Yunho had your left leg in his grip as his right arm reached down your body to dip into your sopping cunt. Your eyes rolled back at the sensation of Mingi's tongue in your hole and Yunho's middle and ring fingers gently pushing your lips apart. "Oh, you're enjoying this so much, aren't you, dirty bitch?" Mingi smirked at your pussy, his lips moving against the flesh that caused you to wince slightly at the unfamiliar feeling. Yunho chuckled at the way Mingi called you a bitch, knowing that despite him sounding like he was degrading you, he really wanted you just as much if not more. "I bet if we try to fuck her, we'll slip right in," Yunho pointed out, making you clench at the thought of taking Mingi and Yunho. "Oh, she likes that, she WANTS that," Mingi chuckled, unlatching his mouth from your cunt while leaving his fingers in your hole, coaxing more of your juices out, "Do you think you're ready to take us, baby?" he asked, wanting you to give him the signal to proceed. Frantically, you nodded, and your hands flew to both Mingi's and Yunho's that were stimulating your cunt, stopping their movements momentarily, "Please, I really need your cocks," you pleaded, glazed eyes staring up at Yunho before going to Mingi.

In a flash, both men took off the rest of their clothing and positioned you so that you were sandwiched between them. Yunho held your body steady with his hands on your waist in front of you as you placed your hands on his broad shoulders. Mingi on the other hand was situated behind you, your legs opened and your ass above his lap with his dick poking at your hole and his hands situated just above Yunho's, his fingers directly on your underboob, softly caressing the skin in a comforting manner. "Are you ready?" Yunho asked when he saw the worried look on your face, "Mingi's going to let you get used to him first and we're going to have the gravity do most of the work," he explained, smiling at you. "You seem to know the mechanism, have you done this before?" you nervously joked, staring down at his obviously large cock. While Yunho laugh at your jab, Mingi spoke up from behind, "Kinda surprised that you let me go first, but thanks man," he grinned. Yunho nodded and shrugged slightly at Mingi, "Yeah, you're smaller than me so between the two of us, she might be comfortable taking you first." Mingi furrowed his eyebrows and let his left hand off of your body for a bit to punch Yunho on his chest, "The fuck are you saying, we're basically the same size!" he protested, not liking that Yunho called him small. Technically small-er but still, Mingi didn't like that. With a roll of his eyes, Yunho nodded in Mingi's general direction, "I'm just saying, yours looked slightly slimmer than mine," he reasoned. Mingi was about to say something when you groaned and turn to glare at Mingi and Yunho, "Okay, can you both stop logging at each other's dicks and help me with my problem?"

The tip of Mingi's dick intruded your hole with a shift of his hips, effectively shutting you up as the annoyance on your face changed into one of shock; your eyes rolled back and your jaw went slack. Yunho's eyes darkened at your expression, delighted that he was able to get a front-row seat to look at what a big dick did to you. "I'm sorry baby, how is it now?" Mingi mocked, hands going back on you but this time it covered your tits. "S-so- so big," you gasped out as you inhaled sharply. The tip was bigger than you expected and maybe Mingi's tease was right earlier, maybe your previous partners have not been fucking you correctly because the feeling in your cunt was nothing like you felt before. Your previous experience was nowhere near what Mingi was giving you right now. "That's it, take your very first big cock," Yunho said, eyes trailing down to look at the way your thighs trembled slightly from Mingi's intrusion, "Do you think you can take more?" he asked. You bit your bottom lip as you mulled it over, thinking how even the tip affected you that much, were you able to take more? But hell if you weren't determined. So you quickly nodded to Yunho, your left hand reaching back to Mingi's knees to let him know that he could try to slide in more.

It was a good thing that Mingi made sure you were wet first because when he pushed in, you could feel a slight burn. His dick was stretching you out and it was uncomfortable, to say the least. With a whimper, your body dropped forward, the hands that were braced on Yunho's shoulders now enveloped it completely as you held on for support. Mingi was about halfway in your cunt when he stopped, wanting to make sure you were used to more of him before he could slip in more. Practising self-restraint was so hard for Mingi as your walls were clutching on him so tight it was like a vice. Yunho saw how Mingi's head hung low and his biceps trembled slightly and he could only imagine how amazing you felt. The more he thought about it, the more aroused he got, he could feel his cock twitching and from your position, you could feel it too. But with being so overwhelmed you couldn't even make a comment about it.

"You're doing so good, baby," Yunho cooed to comfort you, his hands gently caressing your thighs in assurance as Mingi dipped his head down to pepper kisses all over your back. "I wanna do better," you groaned out, surprising both men when you voluntarily sunk down with a cry as your head was thrown back. Your senses were overwhelmed as you could hear your heart pounding in your ears and your eyes watering, your skin felt slick with sweat and your thighs felt like they were burning. "Shit," you cursed when you felt yourself not being able to take more. You swore it felt like Mingi's dick had no end as you take every inch of him but still felt more. Both men knew it was the most you could take at that moment and they were amazed at how you were doing so far. To distract you, Mingi played with your breasts, flicking both nipples and massaging the soft flesh as Yunho reached down to stimulate your clit. You were glad they did so because although there was still pain from your hole being stretched, you could feel that pleasure was doing such a great job distracting you.

"You felt so amazing (y/n), how could you keep your cunt away from me this long? I should've fucked you from the moment we met and have you fucking yourself on me this whole time," Mingi moaned when he sneakily tried to move slightly and was delighted when he heard you hum lowly in pleasure instead of wincing. Hearing Mingi use such language and talk to you in such a way was thrilling, you loved hearing how much he wanted you and now hearing that he was lusting after you made your head feel fuzzy and your stomach churning in the best way. You couldn't even help but clench down at Mingi's dick which elicit a groan of pleasure from Mingi.

Yunho raised an eyebrow at his friend's statement and scoffed, "What makes you think she would've even wanted you? Maybe she wanted to fuck herself on me instead," he questioned. Mingi raised an eyebrow as he slowly pulled away and pushed back in again, making you bite your bottom lip to suppress a moan. "She came to me first to ask for help, if that's not proof, you're crazy," he scoffed. "Please," you started, head dropping even lower to rest on Mingi's shoulder, "I asked you because we're just closer and- ah," you whimpered when Mingi bucked up slightly, "You were here." Yunho couldn't help but laugh and peck you on the lips, "See, Mingi?" he teased, lifting his arousal-covered fingers to your mouth so you could taste yourself and clean them for him, "You were just available so technically speaking, you have the same opportunity as a dildo," he poked. In disbelief, Mingi propped you up better in his strong grip and pressed his cheek to yours, "Oh, so you wanna get used to me so when you seduce Yunho, you can take him like a champ? Can you believe that Yunho? (y/n) here wants your cock as she's fucking herself on my cock," he chuckled darkly as he eyed his friend.

In a flash, Mingi began moving in and out of you, teasing you by going as far as slipping completely out of you and bucking back in. The impact would've sent you tumbling forward but Mingi was holding you in a jealous vice. It was probably a bad idea that you poked fun at him like that but you honestly couldn't complain when Mingi was taking you so well.

The pleasure seemed to dull your attachment to reality because just as Mingi pulled out, you felt something thicker entering you. Your eyes widened as you tried to shake your head to regain your senses. It was blurry, but from the way Yunho was staring deep into your eyes with his teeth gritting, you realized that he had pushed his cock inside you. If it weren't for both men's grip on you, you were willing to bet that you would've slumped down because you couldn't feel your legs. You were sure they were shaking, but you couldn't really feel them.

"Fuck, how did you not immediately fuck her, Mingi? She's so tight and warm," Yunho groaned through gritted teeth, trying his best to not immediately snap his hips up. With his length (which you were sure not all of them) inside you, you could definitely tell that Yunho was right, he was bigger than Mingi in terms of girth but their lengths were maybe the same. "Shit," you moaned out, hands clutching onto Yunho so tightly that your nails were digging into his skin, "More, I need more," you stated, surprising both men. "Are you sure?" Mingi asked, pushing your hair away with one of his hands to look at your face better, "Don't you think you need to adjust first?" he worriedly added, genuinely not wanting to hurt you. But you were determined, nodding firmly and even pushing yourself off of him to situate yourself in a straight sitting position, "I will get adjusted by having you both fuck me," you stated, pouting at Yunho that made him just positively melt, "Please?" you begged.

Both men shared a look and nodded, wanting to give you what you were asking of them. They repositioned their hands so they could have a better grip on you before Yunho began moving slowly to accommodate your adjustment. Thankfully, having taken Mingi beforehand and with the slick you produced, Yunho found it easy to move and you did not feel as much pain as the first time. After a couple of thrusts, Yunho finally moved to slip himself out and Mingi slipped back inside you. The difference in girth was a blessing for you as you felt like you were given the chance to take a breath momentarily. The pain was almost completely gone at this point, all you could feel were pleasure but you knew that you still couldn't take them both harshly. You were glad that both men were putting you first and moving slowly, proving to you that they indeed kept up with their words that they wanted to help you.

They fell into a rhythm soon enough, slipping in when the others slipped out, stealing moans after moans from your mouth from pleasure. You felt like you were in cloud nine, finally understanding why your friends made such a big deal about taking a large sized cock. Although, you'd have to admit that it wasn't just because of their size that you were having such a pleasurable time. Had it not been for the fact that it was your friends helping you, you might not be having this much fun. You loved their possessive yet caring grip on you as they made a mess of your cunt. You were sure that there was a pool right underneath you, a mixture of your cum and their precum dropping onto the sheet bellow.

You didn't even realize when you finally came. Mingi had just re-entered you after Yunho bucked up into you harshly when your body froze and your muscles tensed up, your thighs closed slightly and your head was thrown forward onto Yunho's shoulder as you climaxed dramatically with your body shaking. Mingi's eyes rolled back as he felt your pussy clenching and gushing, the warmth of it was enough to make him cum inside you, not having enough time to pull out.

When you and Mingi slumped back, you rested on top of him as he supported his body weight with his arms, you noticed Yunho towering over you with a smirk on his face. "My turn," he said as he started to pump his dick in his hands. You watched him trying to get himself to cum using the image of you being so spent on top of Mingi and you can't help but think that it was hot. Your pussy clenched down onto Mingi's dick that was still inside you, forcing a mixture of both of your cums to leak down to your ass. Mingi moved to spread your legs widely for Yunho, letting them rest over his own legs as if he was telling Yunho where to cum. Yunho's eyes zeroed in on your puffy lips, hole stretched with Mingi's still hard dick in it and glistening with arousal. It didn't take much for him to reach his climax and painted your pussy and stomach white with his cum. Even when he dropped back, you could still see his tip spurting out the white liquid and his cock twitching.

Finally, when things wind down, you closed your eyes and let your head rest on Mingi's shoulder. The room was filled with the scent of sweat and sex, no one talked so it was quiet save for the sound of the three of you panting, trying to catch your breaths. Despite the tiredness, both men were proud of what they did, happy even that they were able to help you. Sure, you didn't take them completely, but they took their win as they didn't hear you complaining.

What surprised them was what you said when you opened your eyes again, lifting your head to look at both of them before announcing your plan.

"Give me 10 minutes, we'll go again."

Though, how can they say no?

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fayes-fics · 7 months

Text

Reunited

Pairing: Benedict Bridgerton x fem!reader

Summary: When Benedict returns from a few days away, he has some very specific demands...

Gif credit: @captainbucky-yt (used with permission)

Warnings: 18+ smut, minors DNI, dom/sub dynamics, DD/LG play, daddydom!Benedict, blindfolds, hairpulling, dirty talk, smidges of nipple play and spanking, vaginal sex, restraint (wrist binding).

Word Count: 2.9k

Authors Note: Another smut roulette sprint that grew legs. I ended up writing it over 5 separate half-hour sprints. The roulette wheel gave me the writing prompt: "Spread your legs for Daddy; I want to see you." This is a married couple playing together. Unbetaed filth. Enjoy? <3

“Stay, little one,” he commands, a rich chuckle in his voice as you whine.

At least the crackling fire warms your flank, the thick rug under your knees plush, sitting on your haunches submissively, blindfolded, naked, awaiting instruction.

He is sitting in his wingback chair, not far away. Or at least you think he is based on the sounds you hear: the clink of the stopper on his crystal decanter, the pour of liquor into a heavy tumbler, the strike of a match and the earthy scent of cigar smoke tendrils snaking in the air.

“Daddy, please touch me,” you pout.

He has been away for five days, and you have missed him terribly. When he swept into the house fifteen minutes ago, he dismissed the household staff for the evening, stalked into the drawing room where you were happily reading, kissed you and gave you your codeword with a challenging glint in his eye. Instantly, you were stripping and obeying, only too keen to play your special game. Panting as he tied a blindfold carefully over your face. But now he hasn't touched you since. You squirm, feeling yourself already so aroused.

“Hmm, no, I think I will enjoy the view a while longer….” his counterpoint echoing into his drink as he takes another sip - his voice a velvet tease, knowing you can feel his stare on your skin, watching your body as you flex, breasts tingling, pussy wet.

“I have been a good little girl,” you are trying to entice him. Goad him into getting up and coming to you. Even if it’s only to drag you by your hair to sit in his lap.

He huffs bemused. “Have you now? What does that entail?”

“I have not touched myself since you left,” you sigh, feeling your pussy clench at the mere mention. It's not true, but you think he’ll appreciate the sentiment.

“That's a complete lie,” he barks a laugh, and the leather chair creaks as he seems to stand. “Do you know how I know?” he adds, the thud of his riding boots seeming so loud on the rug as he approaches.

“No,” you breathe, tilting your head naturally to where you think he towers over you even though you can't see him.

There is a scent of woodsy cologne, cigars and something that is all Benedict as he bends down, breath gusting hot in your ear. “Because you would have made a mess of my rug by now,” he whispers hotly, “just dripping at the sound of my voice, would you not?” A large hand clamps around the back of your neck, and you gasp. “I asked a question…” he adds pointedly.

“Yes, Daddy,” you answer instantly, attempting to pitch forward and nuzzle against his thigh, but he holds you in place firmly near the base of your scalp. “I am sorry I lied.”

“That is alright,” he mollifies. “I did not instruct you to refrain from touching yourself this time, so you are forgiven, little girl. But you do need to do one thing in recompense.”

“Anything….” you exhale shakily as he releases his grip, pouting as he seems to return to his chair.

“Lay on your back and spread your legs for Daddy; I want to see you. All of you,” he orders, hearing him take another drag on the cigar, tapping it upon his ashtray.

Scrambling to obey as best you can without sight, the wool rug tickles your shoulder blades as you recline. Pulling your feet up close to your bottom, shoulder-width apart, taking a deep breath, trying to ignore the throb in your clit, the need to touch it so great.

“Wider!”

You instantly shuffle your ankles further apart, allowing your knees to fall to either side, spread obscenely wide now, feeling the stretch in your inner thighs.

“Good girl,” he soothes.

The room feels so quiet again, just the hiss and crackle of the logs in the fireplace, the tick of the carriage clock on the mantle and the occasional sound of him taking a drink or puff. After what feels like an eternity, you plead quietly for him. He doesn't respond. Almost as if he is ignoring you, but you know he is not. Know he is watching you intently, likely a lopsided victorious smirk on his handsome face as he takes another sip, eyes raking your skin, taking in every minute detail of your arousal and revelling in your discomfort.

The waiting is the very worst part. Butterflies behind your ribs and a dull ache in your pelvis that needs him. You know how much he gets off on this - watching you, knowing how aroused you are but unable to do anything but whine and plead and beg. You feel your pussy clench around nothing as your mind floods with images of what you want him to be doing, and you squirm as you feel a drop of moisture leak from yourself and run down your bottom cheek.

“I knew you would make a mess of my rug eventually, little girl,” his clear voice ringing out almost startles you after being quiet for so long. “Such a wanton thing, aren’t you?’

“Only for my Daddy,” you assure.

There is a rash of movement, and you gasp again as he suddenly looms over you, likely on all fours, the ruffles of his shirt teasing your puffed nipples, the tickish wool of his britches rubbing your inner thighs, as his brandy-sweetened breath puffs over your face.

“Am I not just the luckiest man alive to have such a sinful, naughty little girl all to myself?” his ask is rhetorical, the flattery making your heart speed up, hopeful that he will take mercy and finally touch you.

“I am the lucky one, Daddy,” you fawn, lifting your hips off the carpet to rub yourself shamelessly into his crotch, delighted to feel a touch of heated bulge there before a large hand wraps around your hip and pushes you back down forcefully, pinning you flat again.

“Behave!” he warns.

“Or what, Dadddy? Will you spank me?” Unable to resist being insolent with him, knowing how much he loves you acting feisty.

“You would enjoy that far too much, you vixen,” tone affectionate, dryly amused.

The hand moves from your hip, and you pant as it travels upwards. It's a firm stroke that has your belly rippling and breath catching in your lungs. Trailing higher, you cry out as suddenly two strong knuckles wrap on either side of your left nipple and tug hard. You hiss as he squeezes tighter, that ache in your cunt growing stronger; he knows how much an edge of pain makes you even more heated.

“I hear there are decorative nipple clamps in Paris,” he recounts casually as you writhe and moan in his continued hold. “I think my little one would look so pretty dripping in jewels. Don't you?”

Your agreement is a hiss between ragged breaths, a zinging in your clit now from the ache in your breast. Just as the pain becomes a tart metallic taste in your mouth, he lets go, and you stutter and sink back into the carpet, a delicious throb in your pebbled nipple, knowing it is darkened and swollen from his treatment.

“And guess what else they do, little one?” he goads, the hand sweeping back down over your diaphragm, making a beeline for where you want him most.

“Tell me, Daddy….” you beseech, head following the sound of his voice as he seems to swing over your leg and settle on your left side, pressing his erection into your hip and rutting slightly.

You cry out as that hand grasps your labia and tugs on your clit hard. “They do a clamp for your pretty pearl down here, little girl,” he lectures, his thighs ensnaring around your left leg to hold you down and open to his slightly rough treatment.

“Please….” it’s a request for anything really: the jewelled clamps, his fingers to sink into you and assuage the ache you feel, his kiss… whatever he will allow.

He releases his hold, and you whimper, eyelashes fluttering hard against your blindfold, chest rising and falling rapidly, on tenterhooks for what he will do next.

“I so enjoy watching you like this,” he confesses, nuzzling your hairline. “My lustful little one just dripping nectar for me. You would do anything right now, would you not? Anything I told you,” his tone dripping with pride.

“I am yours, Daddy, to do as you wish,” you avow, a want to submit, please him, thrumming hard in your veins.

“That’s right,” he breathes, his lips hot on your temple. “Now be a good girl and roll over.”

Your stomach clenches as you flip over onto your belly, the rug abrading your hardened nipples as he rounds behind you and harshly pulls your hips up high, shuffling your knees forward so you are at a steep angle.

“Keep your head down, my girl,” he warns, your cheekbone catching on the wool fibres as you pant in anticipation, feeling the back of his hand brush your bottom, him fighting open the buttons on his britches.

You cry out as he spears into your body harshly, your walls stretching around his invading cock, fingers sinking into the deep pile beneath you, seeking purchase, as you revel in his hearty groan and curse.

“Fuck I have missed your ripe, tight, soaked cunt,” he exhales raggedly, his large hands clutching your hips as he withdraws slowly and then plunges forward, your calves raising from the floor with the force.

Then he is setting a punishing pace, his hipbones digging into your bottom with each thrust. Your eyes roll shut, letting your forehead sink into the rug, uncaring of the chafing there, his mounting harsh and unforgiving, precisely what you have been craving. A yen to be marked by this, by his actions.

“Who do you belong to?” he snaps, raising a hand and spanking possessively across your bottom as you moan loudly.

“You, Daddy,” you clamour, uncaring if any staff hear you. They could watch for all you care right now - stand in the doorway, seeing him almost fully clothed with you naked, hips high, face down, blindfolded and taking his cock deep as you drip down your thighs for him. In fact, just that illicit thought has you clenching around him, his cock feeling huge as he growls at the slick contraction, his movements becoming even rougher, another firm spank that makes you howl, his fingers digging into your cheek, prolonging the sting.

Then he stops, holding still buried so deep it almost aches, missing the drag of every contour when he moves, tilting your pelvis in a silent request for more.

“Don't move, my girl,” he warns, grasping your hipbones.

You stay still, moaning lightly, desperate for some friction on your pulsing clit to push you towards ecstasy.

“Please, Daddy…” you appeal mutely, muffled into the rug.

“I love it when you beg for me,” he admits, hands running covetously around the swell of your bottom and then sweeping up your back. He leans forward over your spine, those shirt ruffles tickling your shoulder blades this time.

You hiss as he grabs your hair, twisting it in his grip, a tingle on your scalp as he leverages you upright, teething the shell of your ear.

“I wish I could stay right here forever,” his voice a hot whisper. “Buried to the root inside my little girl as she cries for more. If I could die anywhere, this is where I want to be. You, your surrender, your tight slick cunt gripping me, your wanton breathy pleas. ‘Tis as if heaven is on earth.”

His filthy poetry has you panting as a hand slips from grasping your hair around to your throat. He pulls you both upright, you bowing back into him, wishing he was naked like you so you could feel the heat of his flesh on yours, leaning into that broad chest.

Then he starts to move again, thrusting slowly, the hand around your throat tightening so he can feel the vibration in your windpipe as you moan loudly for him. His other hand questing into your folds, catching your clit.

“Come on, my sweet little girl, give it to me,” he tutors, open-mouthed, teeth grazing your cheekbone.

Already wound so tight with arousal - since he walked in, really - it doesn’t take much to have you babbling mindlessly, spiralling that abyss, taking each thrust with a loud moan as his fingers rub in a brisk motion.

“That’s it,” his buttery voice a contract to the almost punishing grip on your throat as you start to fracture around him, rippling on his thrusting cock, a wave of ecstasy crashing inside, fanning out to every cell. Dimly, you hear him heaping praise upon you, groaning loudly, but it's quiet behind the rush of blood in your ears, going limp and pliant in his strong hold, your muscles tensing and releasing.

“Did I do well, Daddy?” You drawl, drowsy and sated.

“Yes, little girl,” he coos, kissing your ear. “That felt amazing, But I’m not done with you yet….”

It’s then you realise he has not come, still rock hard inside you as aftershocks quake your being. Without withdrawing, he bears you down onto the rug, arranging so you lay face down, placing his clothed knees on either side of your thighs and squeezing your legs together. A thump of clothing hits the carpet as he discards his jacket and waistcoat. You breathe heavily as he rocks gently into you, your mind resetting, realising this is just a reprieve.

“Hands behind your back, little girl,” a clipped decree.

Without thought, you heed the order, feeling a soft, silky material wrap around your wrists, knowing instinctually it's the cravat from his neck. It is one of his favourite ways to restrain you, you being bound in his clothing, his scent, something primal. He places your bound hands in the small of your back, and then his shirt sails to the floor. He is left in his woollen britches and boots as he leans over you again; you sigh contentedly as his bare skin brushes your spine, a radiating warmth you want to burrow into.

In this position, your thighs squeezed together, hips tilted, laying facedown on the rug, hands bound, you are entirely at his mercy. And you know he is not going to be slow or gentle. He is going to be rough and carnal, chasing his pleasure as you have had yours. Bated breath as you await his next move, reigniting the molten fire, clit throbbing.

Warm hands wrap around your shoulders for leverage as he settles over you, and then you stutter as he withdraws and drives in hard, your whole body rolling, this position allowing him the deepest penetration.

“Oh my god, Daddy…” you splutter, feeling a pressure behind your ribs from his weight pinioning you.

“Take it, little one…” he counsels, his breath hot in your hair.

Pleasure grows with the harsh snap of his hips, your hands pinned into the small of your back, his abdominals pressing into your thumbs with each stroke. He moves faster, pounding now, your skin blooming darker where the rug chafes your body, but it is secondary to the onslaught, feeling yourself notching higher as he steadfastly pursues his pleasure.

“Touch me please, Daddy,” you mewl, knowing you can come again with a modicum of stimulation.

“Is my greedy little girl ready again?” he gusts, panting hard.

“Yes, please,” you appeal, trying to twist your head to meet his eye pleadingly.

With a gruff noise, a hand roughly worms its way under your left hip and ploughs into your slit again. It's like a lightning bolt through you; instantly, you are screaming. His other hand suddenly clamps over your mouth, his hips never wavering in their rhythm.

“Shhh, little one”, he chastises, even as you can hear the pride behind his words that he can do this to you. “You do not wish to alarm the neighbours, surely?”

You shake your head as you whimper, muffled into his palm, unable to keep silent as you spiral so high so fast, almost dizzying. Take heaving breaths through your nose as his nose is pressed into your scalp, huffing hard, taking you so hard now he grunts with every thrust.

Then you are freefalling again, crying out and drooling against his fingers as this time you pull him with you, the constriction on his cock milking him of every drop as he cries your name and stills, that trademark warmth blooming deep inside. Spasms cause him to rut into you a few more times before he collapses to one side, considerate not to crush you.

The room echoes with your panted breaths as you both recover. Benedict pulls you into his arms, arranging you in an enveloping hug, his hands swirling delicate, intricate patterns on your dewy skin as the fire roars beside you.

“Welcome home, husband,” you sigh contentedly after a restful beat, nuzzling into his neck, tasting the salty tang of his exertions.

“Thank you, darling wife, I have missed you so very, very much. Thank you for this,” his tone is heartfelt, holding your face and planting a chaste kiss on your lips, his kind eyes dancing in the flamelight.

“Anytime, my love, anytime.” Your offer is sincere, revelling in the fulfilment and peace your playtime brings. "We should always be reunited thus.”

He chuckles and shoots you a look of pure devotion. “Indeed we should…”

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