#kink rat writes

[pumpkennpie]

Norstappen + 9

this. this consumed me. hope it consumes you too (:

norstappen + predator/prey, for my kink meme list (prompts closed)

wordcount 786

--

It started after Austria, because of course it did. Kind of felt like everything started after Austria, if Lando’s being honest.

He and Max had fucked around here and there before that weekend, a few fucks in hotel rooms after bad results, and good ones too, but that race in particular made something in Lando snap.

He hadn’t even left the paddock before he had the AirBnB booked- his idea was not one that could be carried out in his hotel room, no matter how nice it was.

In the car on the way to the rental, he’d copied the address into his text thread with Max and pressed send before he could talk himself out of it. A few moments later, he followed that up with simple instructions: ‘Catch me if you can.’

That’s how it started. A bad race, a half-baked idea, and five words.

That’s how Lando finds himself in his current situation: crouched behind a sofa in a rental house in Brazil, hand over his mouth to muffle his ragged breathing, half hard in his sweats from anticipatory adrenaline alone.

He can hear Max’s footsteps approaching, the way he’s walking on the balls of his feet to try and keep quiet. Lando hasn’t told him that it doesn’t work.

To be honest, being able to hear Max coming makes the anticipation hit harder. The butterflies roiling in his gut kick up with every socked thump against the floor, and he presses himself to the back of the couch harder, like he’s trying to make himself smaller.

Max is still a ways away, stalking around near the guest bedroom. Lando’s pretty sure that if he bolts right now, takes a left around the couch, he can slip past Max and into the bathroom. He waits a beat, and another, and when he hears Max open the guest bedroom door, he pops up and sprints.

He knows his feet are loud against the hardwood floor. He knows Max will be able to hear him. He knows, but it’s fine, because he wants Max to hear him. He wants- no, he needs Max to find him.

“I can hear you, rabbit,” Max calls out, his voice lilting dangerously through the empty house. It sends a shiver down Lando’s spine, something hot like the first rivulets of water down his back in a shower that’s just this side of too warm.

Lando makes it to the bathroom, and it’s here that he takes care to shut the door quietly. He wants Max to find him, but he still wants to draw it out as long as possible. There’s three doors in this hallway, with the bathroom being the last on the right. He’ll be able to hear Max’s methodical searching.

With his back up against the door, Lando bites the back of one hand and palms himself through his pants with the other. He needs some kind of relief, and while he knows he’ll get it when Max catches up, he can’t help himself while he waits. It’s not like Max will get mad about it.

This thing between them, this fucked up little game of hide and seek, has never been about fear. They’ve done this a few times now, and Lando has never been afraid of what will happen when Max finds him. It’s never been about punishment or repercussions; it’s about the thrill of the chase, the pounding of Lando’s heart, the rush of adrenaline he gets when Max zeroes in on him. 

Getting caught is not a consequence; it’s the reward.

Max’s footsteps grow closer, and Lando scrambles to his feet when he hears him open the first door in the hallway. It’s only a few seconds before the door closes again.

“I know where you are, Lando,” Max sings. Lando’s breath catches in his throat when he hears Max walk  past the second door. One step, two, three, four, and Max is standing right outside the bathroom.

Then, there’s silence. Loud, deafening silence.

Lando’s heart is in his throat, and his hand is shaking against his mouth. His breath is coming in short, ragged gasps, hot through his nostrils. Despite all of this, he’s smiling wider than he has in a while, and he’s painfully hard in his boxers.

Knock.

Knock.

Knock.

Max’s knuckles wrap softly against the door.

Inhale.

Exhale.

Inhale.

The doorknob turns. Lando holds his breath.

Max pulls the door open slowly, like he’s trying not to spook a trapped animal. Once it’s fully open, and nothing but a few feet and a plush faux fur rug separates him from Lando, their eyes meet. 

Max looks hungry, his eyes hooded and dark. He smiles playfully at Lando.

“Run.”

[mosaickiwi]

Everything and Anything

I got too goofy about this kink ask with aftercare. [REDACTED] is ~so~ poggers for basic human decency (I am completely serious). An eventful evening leads into soft and silly aftercare. 1k-ish words, GN reader.

cw// sexual content in nature (nothing explicit), non-specific kinks implied and mentioned, degradation and impact play/spanking specifically mentioned, allusions to neglectful aftercare

14 Days With You is an 18+ Yandere Visual Novel. MINORS DNI

~

You had some vague idea of how things would go. By now, you knew your dark-haired boyfriend never held back in his dedication to your comfort—but you hadn’t expected this. Who knew your casual comments about a few kinks would lead to treatment better than royalty?

Endless conversations of boundaries and what was to come had slotted into the previous week during your nightly pillow talks. Each more thorough than the last, as [REDACTED] always came prepared with research and more questions. They'd even brought a strangely long list of potential degrading pet names for you to decide on—some in languages you didn't speak. Eventually, he was satisfied to put an end to what you were sure being interrogated felt like. That is, if the interrogator saw fit to cuddle and kiss the criminal into a confession.

So the fateful night came, and all had gone well. You had the sore muscles and countless bite marks to prove it. It was what came after that made you feel akin to something worthy of heavenly worship. 

Once you were both dried off from a much needed—and breathtakingly intimate—bath, [REDACTED] began taking inventory of you. Gentle fingers glided over your naked form as he stood behind you, lingering at every mole, mark, and reddened imprint of teeth. He noticed all the small reactions of your body at certain placements of his careful touch, gaze focused on your visage in the mirror while you brushed your teeth. They couldn’t help but bestow a feather light kiss to each spot you barely tensed at to serve as silent apologies.

"Ren," you said once you'd spit your mouthful of toothpaste into the sink. "I told you I'm fine."

Blue eyes pointedly met yours in his reflection. "Really? Y'so sure after that punishment you wanted?" Their hand moved from your hip to lightly pat your bare ass, taking note of the whining gasp you let out. "'Wonder how you're gonna do that little front desk job tomorrow."

"It probably won't hurt by then," you insisted with a rather unsure shrug. As you set your toothbrush next to his untouched one, you looked back at him. "Not gonna brush your teeth?"

"Not quite yet. 'M relishing in the taste of you, Angel." They sensually licked their lips for dramatic effect.

Your nose wrinkled. "I love you, but that's so gross." Still, you raised up on your toes to kiss him, nasty as he was.

~

Dressed in your favorites among their clothes, you were splayed out on your stomach over the bed sheets—in hopes to save your admittedly sore ass come morning. You stared up at your overly doting hacker, who'd resigned himself to playing with your hair in silence. Your mind only wandered at his caress.

You couldn't imagine how you'd gotten so lucky to be their first and only. 

Hours had passed since that intense encounter, and he hadn't left your side except to get things you meekly asked for—it was impossible to ask too much, he'd reminded you. A blanket to warm up, a hot drink to soothe your tired throat, a gentle massage to relax you, and even gentler words of reassuring praise as you'd bathed together in steamy water and afterglow. Their soft, loving touch to bring you to quiet bliss once again in their embrace as you soaked in the bath stayed settled in your mind. It almost completely overshadowed the rough treatment they had you pleading on the verge of tears about earlier.

His actions were above and beyond the bare minimum that others were elated to get. There were myriads of horror stories about terrible partners that completely withdrew after sex, and even more so when performing certain emotionally and physically vulnerable activities on their supposed loved one. You knew he’d never treat you in such a hurtful way. Despite that security, just the thought of it burdened you in the days leading up. To be left to your own devices after the things he whispered in your ear and did to your body—no matter how desperately you welcomed it all—would devastate you. 

"You know you mean the world t'me," he suddenly said, an uneasy frown on his face that brought you back to his focus.

Those words again. Words you'd heard plenty in your relationship, usually accompanied by an embarrassed shrug to explain away some bizarre habit of theirs you'd discovered, or a passionate kiss to soothe both you and themselves. You'd lost count of how much your lover repeated the sentiment tonight. He still must've been worried that you needed soothing in spite of his endless affections. 

You hadn't realized you were holding onto a frown of your own. "I know," you spoke his name with resounding devotion and a soft smile, "You mean the universe to me."

Familiar pink blossomed in surprise on his cheeks, but he quickly caught on to your game. "Y'mean everything to me, Angel. ‘Love you more than anything."

"You mean—" His thumb pressed over your lips to silence you. It was completely stunning. They'd hardly ever stopped you from speaking before, even if it was to scold them.

"Whatever you're trying t'one up me with is already included in everything. So you’re not beating me here," he explained, smug as could be while he loomed ever closer. Ticklish kisses came littered along your cheeks and anywhere else he managed to reach, further encouraged by your laughs of protest.

You successfully wriggled out from their grasp after a few torturous moments. You felt flushed, clothes in disarray from their calculated attack. As you tugged up the sheets to hide under, you teasingly tossed a pillow at him. "Go get me some water, asshole."

He was happy to let the pillow hit him square in the face for your satisfaction. "Anything for you, my love."

[liquid-savage]

Back on Tumblr, oh damn

Inspired by some delightful art based on a character I wrote about some time ago, I decided to give her some love and bring her back for a fun little summer story.

Read on FA or beneath the Read More. Enjoy!

-

It was a cloudless day in the middle of June, and the sun bore down on the idyllic suburban neighbourhood with a vengeance. Those who weren’t preparing for a day at the beach were sunbathing, running through the sprinklers or simply staying indoors to try and beat the heat.

Inside one of the two-storey houses, behind the skirting board beneath the couch in the living room, there was a hole in the wall where Pixie lived.

“I think I’ve let myself go a little,” she admitted, looking in the shard of mirror glass propped against the wall. 

Staring back at her was a rat with chocolate brown fur and a head of darker, long and curly hair. Her massive belly spilled out from her pink T-shirt–which only covered her doughy chest by now–and covered the front of her shorts. She looked over her shoulder, feeling her thick double-chin rub against the shirt collar, and saw that her rather thunderous thighs and bulbous buttocks threatened to tear her shorts to shreds if she made any sudden moves. Even her tail almost looked fatter!

“Man, I am so not beach ready,” she sighed, her round ears drooping. She lifted her stomach in her chubby little paws, giving it a shake and watching it bounce. “I know I can fit through anywhere my head can, but I think this is pushing it!”

She turned herself around with the finesse of an army tank and slowly waddled through her den. The shockwaves sent through the floorboards by her tubby footpaws caused her makeshift furniture, made up of little things she’s stolen from around the neighbourhood, shook and jostled during her wide, awkward gait. Finally, she arrived at her plastic closet and started looking through the outfits she’d pilfered from many a dollhouse.

“Let’s see,” she muttered, digging through the small pieces of fabric, “I know they’re in here somewhere… ah-ha!”

She discarded her shirt and shorts and changed into a spandex onesie that even a rat from the 80s would call dated, and pulled sweatbands over her wrist folds, cankles and forehead. She returned to the mirror and fixed herself with a determined scowl, which lost a bit of its lustre thanks to her chubby cheeks forcing the corners of her mouth closer together.

“Okay, just like on TV,” she said, taking a deep breath. She raised her flabby arms over her head and brought them down to her sides, like she was fittingly flapping those bingo wings of hers. “Hup, down, hup…”

If anyone could see a rodent the size of a grapefruit attempting to exercise, they’d no doubt be either amused or sympathetic. Her massive middle made it impossible to see her toes, let alone get anywhere close to touching them. She just managed two or three squats before her legs nearly gave out, and she felt good about getting four pushups in before realising the ‘up’ part was part of one pushup. She soon ended up on her back, absolutely winded after managing about half a sit-up. Her belly rose and fell as she wheezed for air.

Her ears twitched as she heard a commotion outside. Frantic footsteps, cluttering, and two familiar voices. She rolled herself onto her front and then onto her feet, so she could push open the cracked skirting board a smidge and listen in.

“You sure we have enough?” a man wondered. “I don’t want anyone going hungry.”

“You cleared out the butcher’s, babe,” a woman said flatly. “Even with you around, no one’s going hungry.”

Pixie was intrigued now. Intrigued enough to squeeze herself out of her den and wriggle beneath the couch for a better look. She saw a large human man, round like her, with a much slimmer woman. They were both fussing around the kitchen, and still as unaware of their little roommate as they’ve always been.

“I just want this to go right, Susan,” the man said. “This isn’t just a small group–it’s the whole neighbourhood.”

“And you’ll do fine, Greg,” Susan assured him. “There’s a reason everyone says you do the best barbecues in the city.”

Pixie’s eyes shot wide open. ‘Barbecue.’ One of her favourite words. There was a reason she chose this house in particular to settle down in: the human called Greg loved food as much as she did. He always kept the kitchen loaded up with the sweetest and meatiest things, and every night Pixie would help herself to some cookies and leftovers, leading to her ridiculous rotundity. A fact she seemed to be oblivious to, hence the slobber dribbling down her second chin.

“A barbecue for the whole neighbourhood,” she repeated to herself. “That means a lot of humans… which means a lot of food!”

Her cheeks dimpled from her wide, eager grin as she scurried back into her den. As quickly as it came, her decision to shed some extra ounces went right out the window. She discarded her workout gear and changed back into her T-shirt and shorts, seeming to ignore just how much of a struggle it was to get them on.

“New plan,” she muttered. “Wait until the humans are either gone or asleep, grab as much barbecue as I can, eat till I burst!”

Grrrruuuuuooooowwwlll…

She frowned and rested her paws on her grumbling belly.

“I’ll need to survive until after dark.” She plodded to her makeshift pantry and took out a sugary cracker as tall as she was. “This oughta tide me over, so long as I can make it last.”

With that, she greedily gnawed up half of the cracker.

—

The wait was positively agonising. Poor Pixie could only watch from beneath the couch as humans came and went, carrying copious amounts of burgers, hotdogs and kebabs with them. Watching them dig in and listening to their loud chewing was torturous for the greedy rat. Many times throughout the day she had to fight the urge to risk slipping out for the slightest taste, reminding herself that she might get caught.

But finally, some time after dark, things had gone completely silent. It was time to move.

She popped out from beneath the couch and swivelled her head around. Not nearly as many humans as earlier in the day, and those who were left were fast asleep, some surrounded by those cans she never liked the smell of.She awkwardly waddled on all fours toward the kitchen, feeling her stomach brush the carpet as she went. With it still being rather warm even at night, she was soon relieved to feel the cold kitchen tile on her paws.

She stood upright, her stomach sticking out even more than usual, and her nose twitched. She pointed it up to the counter.

“Up there.”

She lumbered to the drawers and, as she often did, used the handles as a ladder to climb up to the countertop. Though, with all the bulk she was carrying, she found her feet slipping and dangling in the air with her clumsy clambering. A little squeak escaped her when she nearly went toppling down to the floor, but she just about kept her grip.

With heavy gasps, she climbed onto the counter and took a moment to rest. Once she caught her breath, she looked to see what was on offer. Many selections of food were safely stored within tupperware containers and wrapped in aluminium foil. She rubbed her paws together with a gluttonous smirk.

“Sorry, Greg, but I’ve been waiting all day for this!”

She slowly pulled the lid of a container, flinching with each hard pop before she could reach inside. She grabbed a plump sausage and happily gnawed on it until it was gone in record time. She liked grease off her paws before going for the others inside, but stopped herself.

“Don’t fill up just yet, girl–there’s more to enjoy.”

She carefully closed the lid back on and crept up to an aluminium mound, unwrapping the foil to reveal a double-cheeseburger in all its glory. It was as big as she was! When she chomped into it, she was delighted that her nose wasn’t tricking her when she smelled onions inside. Greg never disappointed with his cooking.

An onion-scented burp escaped her maw when she finished the burger, and she rolled the crumpled aluminium ball aside. By now, she could feel the slightest hint of an ache in her tummy, but there was no way she was stopping now. Especially not when she caught a glimpse of what she wanted next. She opened another container and lifted a kebab in both paws. With practised finesse, she spun the skewer and nibbled away at the assorted meats on it. When she was done, she used one end to pick her teeth clean before discarding it.

“Now I’m thirsty,” she grunted, ignoring the growing pain in her stomach as she looked around for something to wash down all that food. Her grease-covered face lit up when she spotted an unopened can of soda on the other side of the counter, and she happily scampered over as quickly as her oversized heft would allow. While stopping to help herself to some of the French fries in a basket on the way, of course.

She used her teeth to pierce the top of the can and, holding onto it with both paws, leaned back until she was toppled over with the can resting on her belly. Keeping a steady pace, she gulp, gulp, gulped down the orange soda, her tail flicking happily at the fizz on her tongue. And with each gulp, her stomach bloated ever so slightly even more.

“Aaahh, that’s better,” she sighed, carelessly tossing the can aside. Her face dropped when she watched it roll over the edge of the counter and clatter loudly to the floor. She rolled into a sitting position and looked around, her ears pricked up. After a moment of silence, she sighed with relief that no one had stirred.

“Maybe I oughta not push my luck,” she decided, forcing herself onto her feet with a groan. She pointed herself to the drawers, then froze. “Are those pork chops I smell…?!”

—

The sun was beginning to rise in the early hours of the morning, but no one was awake to see a giant brown ball squeeze underneath the sofa, nor hear its squeaky grunts and groans as it tried to wriggle its way home.

And even if they were awake, they’d have to move the sofa to see that ball’s backside squirming in a hole in the skirting board.

“Oh c’mon,” Pixie huffed, her paws pushing against the wall she was stuck in. She kicked her feet and flicked her tail. “Rats can… fit through… any hole… their heads can…!”

POP!

“Whoa!” she yelped. The sudden force sent her rolling and bouncing inside, only stopped by the opposite wall. “Yeah, time for some door adjustments…”

She hiccupped and burped as she rolled onto her front, grimacing at her bellyache. Her stomach was packed to the brim with assorted meats, sodas, and even a bowl of melted ice cream as a sweet chaser. Far too much for a rat, even one as gluttonous as Pixie. Of course, despite her stomach being overstuffed and jostled around, a glutton like Pixie had no regrets. She got to enjoy a good meal, and that was what mattered. And now it was time for a nice, long rest.

Her belly dragged on the floor as she pulled herself across the den to her bed: a tissue box with a comfy rag for a blanket and a big wad of cotton for a pillow. She climbed in and rolled onto her back, only to suddenly shift downward as the box collapsed beneath her weight.

“Oof!” she puffed, rubbing her poor aching belly. It gurgled and bubbled uneasily with how much it had been put through. “Easy, girl, we’re hic in bed now…”

A squeaky yawn escaped her, and as her eyelids fluttered, a distant thought came to her. Something about… exercising? Was that it? That didn’t sound right.

Meh, I’ll worry about it later, she thought as she finally drifted off into a deep sleep.

[villainology]

✩ ˛˚ . GOJO SATORU — you get the impression there might be alot of things your boyfriend is holding back on exploring.

ஜ ˖ ࣪࿐ྂ warnings! f!reader, cnc, predator x prey, outside / wood scenes, some rough play, he’s such a tease, minimal prep ♡ ˖ ࣪࿐ྂ note! hiiii this idea literally hit me like a brick so i had to get it out my system before i died w it <3 honestly i cut this off a little earlier than originally planned because my brain couldn’t do a whole fic but i hope u guys enjoy regardless :3

you’d enjoyed your day out with gojo as you notice the way the sky around you both has began to darken pretty quickly, but you appreciate the change of scenery— grateful that he’d offered to take you out on a little day trip. he’d insisted he knew a place with a pretty view that was close to one of the school campuses, apparently it was used to host the kyoto sister-school good-will event a few months ago.

that was your destination now as you both walk down the street in that direction, your hand is in his but you still shiver despite the way his palm is warm around yours. his thumb strokes it’s way along your skin as you turn to look at him, it’s an innocent touch as you listen to him talk about his day but the air feels stuffy between you both— your hairs standing on edge before his hand squeezes.

your eyes meet gojo’s as you turn and you notice the way his strays to trail down the pretty line of your throat, sweeping along your figure in you’re pretty dress. his gaze is dark and expectant, but the smirk on his lips looks as pleased as ever as a tinge of anticipation makes you feel suddenly too hot for your skin. still, you smile when you feel his fingers skim from your hand up your arm then across to your lower back, an encouraging sort of touch that urges you to lean in closer.

“you cold?” he asks despite the way he can probably feel the heat running beneath you skin, his hands stroking slowly along your spine as his breathing fans along the shell of your ear. but a shiver still manages to pass through you when he squeezes at your waist.

you let him hold you for a few moments on the side of the street, you’re close to where you’re headed— you can see the tree line break when you turn to your left. you huff and gojo presses his lips to your cheek before he sighs into your ear, his words a low, drawl of a sound as he speaks to you only.

“one, two..”

the electricity that seems to rush through you is enough to make you quiver before you break away from his suddenly loose grip, something in your lower abdomen squeezing as your breathing becomes erratic.

the stride you take is quick as you rush quickly down the side walk, nobody seems to notice your sudden escape from the man’s arms that you looked so comfortable in a moment ago and even if they do— they don’t bother asking. the wind feels warm as it blows through you but you don’t dare look back, you can basically feel the hungry, crystalline gaze on your figure as the rush of adrenaline in your system seems to push you faster.

you can see the entrance to the trees as you make your way towards it, it’s dark but you feel the thrill ignite something in your nerves as you brush by the people still left on the street. your chest feels tight, it’s barely started but your heart is already pounding, beating at your ribs like it’s trying to climb up your throat as you near the outskirts of the campus.

you approach the opening before you allow yourself a quick glance over your shoulder, it’s a momentary look but it’s enough to make something warm shoot down your spine when you notice the looming figure in the crowd. his eyes are still locked in your direction despite the distance, like he can still see you— feel you from so far away as you finally decide to put your adrenaline to good use with your first step into a jog.

but you don’t notice that the figure seems to already have vanished from the crowd by the time you turn back around.

it’s quiet as the forest seems to swallow you whole, leaving you with only your breathing and the sound of your footsteps as you drink up the response that your body seems to have to this, to him. your heart is racing as you run but the air does wonders for your overheating skin, fanning over your features as you push yourself even deeper into the shadows.

you push yourself through a sprouting bush as your head twitches instinctively at a noise to your left and you swear you see it, him— the crystalline blue from his gaze as he stands a few feet away and you gasp, before suddenly it’s gone and you feel the sudden urge to go faster.

“what’s this, hm? aren’t you a cute lil thing.” it’s like an echo the way his low drawl travels through the trees around you, like something haunting as you almost lose your footing. it feels like he’s everywhere at once, deliberately letting himself flash into your peripheral vision— you can hear him in the trees above you, the bushes to your side, in the direction you’re heading towards.

“well, gotta be faster than that. come on, you can do it. don’t wanna make it too easy for me.”

your head twitches slightly before you duck into the heavier oak tree to your right for a breath, you can barely hear anything with the sound of your own heartbeat in your ears — there’s a throb between your thighs, fuelled by the lick of fear that follows before you hear the crunch of the grass behind you.

“oh? thats clever. but you can’t hide forever, don’t go shy on me now.” gojo drawls in the distance, dangerously as you try to suck in quick breathes, feeling your lungs quake with each exhale before you try to catch a glance behind you, eager to know his location— but you need to keep yourself moving.

“lookin’ for me?” you shriek when you snap your head back around to see him already in front of you, hands shoved in his pockets as he tilts his head down at you smugly. it’s like fight or flight the way you go to push past him to set off again but he’s already gone by the time you even blink, leaving you with your heart in your throat and the echo of his chuckle, left to only listen for his next location.

you feel like you’re caught in his web and every movement only tangles you further, but you can’t deny the flicker of lust at the base of your spine that comes with it.

it’s quiet for a few moments except from the rush of your own feet, like you’re being taunted with the taste of an escape, until you hear it— for the first time hear him, his footsteps as you try to steal a look into the darkness behind you that feels like it’s threatening to swallow you entirely.

then that’s when you actually see it, the way gojo’s tall form seems to rip its way from the shadows like he’s finally stopped playing with you — something unhinged and a little wild in his eyes as he gains on you alarmingly quick. he could’ve caught you already, all this time but that’s not fun— your heart is throbbing as you gasp at the sight of him, hearing the heavy footsteps as he sprints after you, the distance he’s closing quickly filling your mind as you make a break into the trees.

“so fast, sweet girl! but did you really think you could get away from me?” he teases from behind you, goading as you realise how close his voice actually sounds. you’ve never run as fast as you’re running right now, every thud from behind you feels like it kicks your legs out from under you but you can’t stop.

but fuck— gojo loves you like this, in your desperate, needy state, you’re like a bunny running from the jaws of a wolf as he watches you twist for an escape, such perfect prey.

you swear you feel his longer fingers reach for you, like the hairs on the back of your neck are standing to attention, atoms drawn into him like you’re above to be snared in a trap— but still so lured in by his touch as he gains on your figure. you almost fumble at the realisation, your feet slipping and giving you a few more seconds— a last ditch effort to escape as you skid on your feet and turn, making a break for the slight opening in the trees, just down by the river.

“hm? oh, well. guess i’ll be a little rough.” you hear gojo chuckle behind you as you keep moving and the sound tempts you into casting a last glance over your shoulder before you realise he’s already there, it only takes him a few strides of his long legs— it’s like he seen that move coming.

you can’t help but scream at the sudden contact of his hand on your skin, instinct telling you to push him away as you try but his grip is tight— pulling you into him before he’s taking you down hard onto the cool grass beneath you. the impact leaves you a little dizzy and disorientated as you both breathe deep, the breath feeling like it’s been knocked out of you as you try to drag yourself away from where he has you pinned between him and the earth, claiming and caging you.

“there we go, that’s better. right where you need t’ be, hm?” gojo’s voice shakes as he speaks to you, so driven by his lust as he watches you struggle beneath him, clawing at the dirt as he presses you down. his breathing comes quick as you feel his hand clamp around your waist — reaching up between your breasts to squeeze his hand around your throat and drag you back the few measly inches you’d escaped until you’re against his chest.

“oh, but you ran so well f’ me, princess. feel what you do to me, hm?” your eyes flutter at the way he presses his clothed cock into you, letting you feel the impressive strain of it through his slacks as he all but ruts you into the dirt beneath you like an animal. you stop struggling at that, collapsing under his weight and suddenly pliant with the hard press of him between your legs, already dripping with the adrenaline that courses through you as your cheek rests against the cool grass.

“p-please, please..” your voice is tight with need as you try to rock your hips back into his, feeling gojo curl his way over you before he’s pulling away entirely to twist you onto your back. that’s when you finally see him, mused and needy— hes flushed, something dark pooling in his usual bright gaze and it makes you gasp as he shoves your dress up your quivering legs, wrapping them around his waist before his huge body is pushing between your thighs to kiss you breathless.

“told you i’d catch you, didn’t i? knew i would, think i was gonna let you go? a sweet lil thing like you?” he’s gone completely as he speaks into the kiss, burying praise and filth between your lips as you squeeze your legs around his waist, grabbing at his snowy roots until he’s groaning against you.

he can’t wait any longer, gojo’s moan is wrecked as he pulls away to mouth at your throat, biting and suckling at the skin as you arch up into him. you’re panting out sweet little pleas, begging for him as he breathes through clenched teeth, tearing so mercilessly at your panties before his pants and belt follow afterwards and you need him so bad you feel tears bead at your lashes.

“aww, you cryin’ f’ me?” he tries to tease but it comes out as more of a breathless croon of a laugh, his cock twitching while your eyes look down to sweep over the thick curve of him. he pushes his chest closer to you, letting your hair tangle in the earth beneath you both as he takes you beneath him.

gojo would normally take his time prepping you, but you’re already a puddle of mewls and whines beneath him, basically begging for him already as he lets his cock tease it’s way through your folds, swiping the head at the slick gathered there as you feel the friction burn and sizzle into something that warms your body from the inside out.

“satoru, please!” you gasp and you’re not sure if it’s the adrenaline, the chase or the anticipation that makes it so easy for him to press his way into you but you’re soaked, feeling the first real silky grind of his cock split through your folds before it’s catching on your clit, making you both gasp and moan at the wet tacky sound that follows.

“oh? so greedy f’ me.” the desperate hug of your pussy feels like it pulls him in as you rub your slick along his cock, forcing him closer before he’s finally sinking into your twitching cunt. gojo’s hand fists your hair before he’s shoving your head back so hard your back arches, lapping into your mouth as you tremble and squeeze around him— panting loud in your ears as he hunches over you. “mm, but you’ve got me so hungry f’ you, baby.”

you’re so tight and barely prepped as he drags you along the grass beneath you— feeling his teeth drag along your lower lip as he ruts himself into the warm hug of your walls. every wet withdrawal of his hips is loud but the slap back is even louder as it echoes around the shadows, he’s like a man possessed, completely unhinged as his hips smack so mercilessly into yours it burns, forcing your walls to stretch and mould to him.

you’re already so close gojo can feel it as he presses deep into your body, losing himself in the pleasure he’s earned, the pleasure he owns as he claims his little prize as you claw at his shoulders for any sort of release.

“my sweet girl, ran so hard and all f’ me. you said you could handle it, so ‘ts all mine to take now, right?”

© 2023 GAROUJO. please do not copy any of my layouts or writing and translate or repost onto any other sites.

[strang3lov3]

Clean

Joel makes a mess on you, then keeps you in the bathtub until the water goes cold. (3k)

Tags - dark!joel, one shot, smut, fingering, come shot, manspreading, masturbation, overstimulation, forced orgasms, dubconnnnnn, daddy kink, innocence kink, inexperienced reader, biiiig girthy yet unspecified age gap, weird feelings and some good ol' fashioned shame, hitting, Joel is fatherly in a hot and disgusting way, calls himself 'your old man', gratuitous use of the nickname 'kiddo'. Say the affirmation with me: The ickier it is, the harder I nut.#bushnation, MORE DEPECHE MODE REFERENCES. TRY AND STOP ME. Like car sex, I write bathtub sex uniquely in that I’m not bound by bullshit ass physics or logic so yes, both people fit in the tub and everything is fine. Reader is bathed by Joel, her hair is washed and finger-combed by him too, but length and texture are not described. This was a decroded fic for me to make i can't lie Fic help - @endlessthxxghts, thank you for always seeing my disgusting visions and giving me your eyeballs A/N - thank you for all the birthday wishes, dear friends in my phone! I celebrated with you all last year when I was writing Mall Rats and it’s special that a lot of you are still with me today, but some I have new friends too ❤️ I love you. Having readers like you in my corner all this time has been beyond special and so rewarding and I hope you know I mean it when I say that I love you.

You’re washing the dishes tonight, your least favorite of the chores Joel makes you do. You prefer doing laundry or plucking the weeds with him, because he lets you collect flowers and put them in vases. He even taught you how to press them between heavy books, and how to frame them nicely. 

Joel calls your name from upstairs. You quickly wash and dry your hands, then scurry up the steps. His door is closed almost all of the way, just a small sliver of light peeks from his room into the dark hallway. “Joel?”

“In here, sweetheart. Need ya for somethin’.” 

You push open the door the rest of the way, and Joel’s naked and sitting upright on the edge of his bed, cock in hand with his bare thighs spread wide. He’s grunting as he squeezes the base, the tip all flushed and swollen. “C’mere. Switch me spots.” 

You don’t yet obey his order. You’ve seen Joel’s cock before, seen him masturbate before, too. Despite that, it still makes you feel nervous to see him and be with him like this. It gives you that icky feeling in your gut and makes you breathe funny. 

“C’mon. You know it ain’t gonna bite ya, kiddo.” Joel stands up  and pats the spot on the bed. “Sit,” he says, his tone sharper than before. “Need somethin’ pretty to come on.”

 Joel doesn’t like repeating himself. You won’t make him ask a third time. 

You sit on the bed, the covers warmed and slightly damp by Joel’s body heat don’t comfort you. He stands in front of you, rock-hard cock bouncing in his loose grip. “Why don’t you give me a hand this time,” he says, reaching for your wrist. He pulls it up to waist level, then wraps your palm around his member, closing your fingers tightly. “Ohhh, fuck,” Joel groans from deep in his chest. Loudly, he breathes in and out through his nose as he twists your hand up and down his shaft. “Jus’ like this. That’s a good girl.” 

His cock feels heavy in your palm. You think about the things you like about it - the warmth, all of his veins and ridges, how smooth and soft the head is. But it’s a little sticky, too, which is nice to you. 

“Alright, alright. S’enough,” Joel says, pulling your hand away. “Lift up your shirt.”

You lift your shirt, pushing it up your torso until it’s bunched just beneath your breasts. “Nuh-uh. Like this,” Joel murmurs, pushing the garment up above your chest, exposing yourself entirely to him. He rubs his thumb in circles over both of your nipples so that they pebble under his touch, then gropes and squeezes your flesh. “Lie back,” Joel says, pushing you down on the bed. “Attagirl.”

You watch as Joel pumps his cock above you, the end of his fist slapping against his softened belly repeatedly. He breathes heavily, and his dark eyes are wild like an animal as his gaze is fixed on your naked form. Joel breathes quicker as he approaches his release, grunting a slew of swears he doesn’t allow you to say. “Fuck, goddamn. Oh, goddamn,” he hisses as ropes of his hot come spurt onto your body. He covers you like a canvas; his favorite painting, and for his eyes only. 

Joel collects a bit of his spend up with his first two fingers. “Give it a taste,” he says. “Want you to try it.”

You open your mouth, and Joel pushes his calloused digits inside, painting your tongue with his come. “Suck,” he says, and you do. You furrow your brows at the salty, bitter flavor, how it tastes dissimilar from its scent. “Don’t like it?”

You shake your head. “I don’t think so.”

Joel chuckles, cupping your jaw and rubbing his thumb along your cheekbone. “S’okay. Y’don’t have to.” Joel yawns then, patting your cheek gently with his weathered hand. “C’mon, kiddo. Bath time. Daddy made a mess a’ ya, didn’t he?”

Joel walks you to the bathroom with him, holding your hand the whole time. He puts the little rubber stopper in the drain of the bathtub, then turns the water on. “Warmer, pl-”

“Don’t need a reminder, sweetheart. Know you like it hot. Daddy won’t let you freeze.”

“And bubbles.”

“I know, baby girl. I won’t forget your bubbles.”

As the bathtub fills, Joel opens the oak cabinet under the sink and pulls out the old bottle of bubble bath, the one he’s been refilling just for you. He pours a capful under the water, bubbles immediately building. It smells mostly of nothing, but a bit of that original bubblegum scent remains. Your image reflected in the mirror begins to blur as steam fills the bathroom, and when the tub is full, Joel shuts off the water. He helps you undress and then gets in the tub first, carefully lowering himself until he’s sat with his back against the wall. “Jesus, s’hot. Gonna turn us both into soup,” Joel laughs. You smile shyly. 

 He spreads his legs, then outstretches his arm to you. “C’mon. Hop in.” You take Joel’s hand, squeezing it while wobbling a little on your one foot as you step into the bath. “I gotcha, kiddo,” he says. 

The water is warm on your feet, nearly burning you but you enjoy the tingle. Joel helps you down, lowering you until you’re submerged in the water, your back against his warm chest, his thick package pressing against your ass. 

Joel fills an old, plastic measuring cup with the soapy bath water and brings a hand to your chin, tilting your head back so he can rinse your hair. The hot water feels soothing on your scalp, and Joel repeats the action until your hair is soaked all the way through and dripping down your back. 

You giggle at the noise the bottle of shampoo makes when Joel squirts a bit into his hand. He lathers it between his palms, then scrubs your scalp. “Eyes closed, kiddo. Don’t wanna hurt ya,” he whispers. 

Your eyes flutter shut as Joel works the soap into your hair, scrubbing your scalp all over. He alternates between scratching you gently with his dull nails, to massaging you with the tips of his fingers. He uses his thumbs to rub the base of your skull in circles, the other four fingers of each hand drawing lines up and down and all over. Once Joel’s built a thick lather, he uses the same plastic cup to rinse out the shampoo.  

He conditions your hair next, working the cream into the strands. He uses his fingers to loosely detangle, “Ow, daddy,” you complain as he tugs on a knot. 

“I know, I know. M’sorry, baby girl.” Joel presses a kiss to your forehead. “Was an’ accident. M’tryin’ to be gentle.” He rinses out the conditioner next, “Grab me that bar of soap, will ya?” he asks. 

“Mhm.” You lean forward and reach for the orangish, rectangular bar of soap in front of you on the shower niche, then grab it and hold it over your shoulder. 

Joel takes the soap, “Thank ya kindly, darlin’.”  He dips it in the soapy bathwater before lathering it between his palms that are already beginning to prune. Gently, he pushes you forward to scrub your back and your neck, then pulls you right back into himself. “Gimme an arm,” he says, a slight rasp in his voice. You raise your arm for him and he washes you with the lather, “An’ the other,” Joel adds, now washing your other arm, massaging you with his strong hands. “Here-” Joel taps your shoulder with the soap. “Your daddy’s gettin’ old,” he grumbles. “Can’t bend like he used to. Wash your legs f’me, sweetheart.” 

“Okay,” you murmur, taking the soap back from him. You lather the soap just like Joel did, then wash your legs one at a time, bending them at the knees. When done, Joel reaches over you to take the soap back. He pulls you back against his soft middle and puts his soapy hands on your torso, sliding them up and down your skin, washing off his now dried spend. He groans quietly as he washes your breasts, kneading the flesh there and circling your nipples with his slippery fingers. You feel his cock twitch against you. 

Joel washes down, down your stomach. “Spread ‘em,” he says, and you part your legs wider. Your stomach jumps when his hands rub past your pubic hair and he washes your folds, that soft, private place between your thighs. You whimper when his thumb catches your clit. 

“That feel nice, kiddo?”

Your breath hitches in your throat as you search for an answer. 

“I-”

“You can tell your old man. I know it does,” Joel coos, rubbing his thumb left and right over your clit. You lean your head back and turn your head to the side, burying yourself in his bicep as you whine. “You don’t take much at all, do ya, sweetheart?”

Joel’s made you come before. It’s one of the first things he did when he brought you home, actually. But you amaze him every time, how quickly and easily you fall apart on his fingertips. He thinks about tasting you, how sweet you are on his tongue. Or his cock, down your throat or between your thighs and splitting you in two. God, you’ve had so much to learn, and Joel’s gotten to walk you through it all. His favorite innocence. 

Joel adjusts you both so that you’re sitting more upright and he can reach around you with both hands. “Rest on me,” he says, pressing the side of your head against his so that his scruff is tickling you, but not scratching you. It’s too long for that.

Joel peers over your shoulder to watch what he’s doing, and to watch how you react. Your soft tummy rising and falling with big breaths, thighs twitching. Joel circles your clit with his middle and ring fingers, patiently working you up. “How’s that feelin’?” he asks, “Can you tell daddy?”

“Mm,” you hum, “Yeah…”

Joel chuckles, dragging the tip of his aquiline nose along the side of your face. “Use your words, baby girl,” he instructs. “Good girls use their words, hm?”

“Feels g- feels good,” you whimper, voice breaking as Joel works you. He rubs your clit faster now, and you’re rocking against his palm, splashing the water a little. 

Joel brings his other hand to your core and lines two fingers up with your entrance, slowly pushing in while he massages your clit. You wince in pain, squeezing his bicep as he pushes them in further. 

Joel hums in sympathy. Being in the bath means you’re not a slick, slippery mess like usual. “Know it hurts, kiddo, but you gotta get used to it.” Joel’s fingers are all the way inside you now, and he pulls them back out. “You’ll get used to it,” he drawls, now pumping those fingers in and out of you, slowly. “You’re bein’ so brave for me, baby girl.” 

The ache of Joel’s fingers stretching you out dissipates eventually, and he changes the action - instead of drawing his fingers in and out of your cunt, he curls them repeatedly inside of you - Joel knows you love when he does this to you. 

You moan freely, relishing in the pleasure. Joel’s right, he’s always right. You’re used to him now, and he feels so good. Swirling his fingers around your clit, stroking that sweet spot inside you with the other hand - it takes no more than five minutes until your breathing turns ragged and you feel that hot, sticky feeling in your gut, the one that feels both bad and good all at the same time. 

“Ask for it,” Joel mumbles, reminding you of your manners as he senses how close you are. “Be polite.”

“Please,” you say, “Can I come?”

“‘Course you can, sweetheart. Of course.”

The orgasm washes over you quickly. You come with a symphony of breathy moans, saccharine in nature. Joel’s never heard anything like it, and he’s grateful he has enough of his hearing left to be able to. 

With his weathered, wrinkled fingers, Joel fucks you through your climax until the last of it courses through you. You come down, but Joel doesn’t stop touching you. 

Maybe he thinks it’s not yet over. Joel keeps doing those same tight circles on your clit, and you start to squirm. “Joel–” you wrap your hands around his forearm and attempt to move him, but his strength is far too great for your efforts to mean anything at all.  

“Sit still. You’re givin’ me another one.” 

Joel keeps your back pinned tightly against his hairy chest, your legs spread wide with his hand in between them, patiently swirling his middle and ring fingers around your swollen and over-sensitive clit. Your hips are starting to ache and the sensation of Joel pleasuring you has turned uncomfortable, downright painful. 

“I wanna be done, Joel. I can’t do another one,” you whimper, voice shaking as tears well up in your eyes. There’s nowhere to run, and you know you just have to take it. “I can’t.”

“Yes, you can,” he whispers soothingly, his ministrations on your pussy unfaltering. Joel’s holding you back. You’re not supposed to tell him no. “Know you can.”

His words serve more to frustrate you than encourage you. “I. Can’t,” you huff as you try to pull away from him and close your legs shut in the now lukewarm and soapy water, but Joel keeps you in position in his vice grip. 

“Knock it off,” he growls. Joel has to hide his amusement. You’re quick to anger, just like he is. Just like your daddy. “Jus’ relax.”

You’re close, and whether you realize it or not, Joel does. Your twitching legs, the way you’re breathing. Release is right around the corner if you’d just calm yourself down. Poor thing. You always did struggle with regulating yourself.

“Get - I told you-“ you interrupt yourself to groan, “You’re not listening to me, daddy. I said I c-can’t fucking—” you don’t finish the sentence and instead seethe in frustration, jerking and splashing bath water onto the floor. “F-”

Joel slaps your cheek, hard. “Easy,” he scolds, “I didn’t raise you to speak to me like that.” Joel his nose against the side of your head and bites your ear, the way a dog does with a pup. A warning. “An’ I don’t have to listen to you. You listen to me,” he adds. “Adjust the fuckin’ attitude and try it again before you piss me off.”

Your voice cracks as you whimper Joel’s name, a sob then escaping your chest. Your cheek stings and tingles, like you never stopped feeling the impact of Joel’s hand meeting your skin. 

“Don’t start cryin’, just breathe. Breathe. Go slow,” Joel instructs, pleased when you inhale steadily. On your exhale, Joel whispers, “You need me to talk you through it?”

You nod against him, sniffling. “Then I’ll talk you through it. Focus on my voice, focus right here, kiddo,” he tells you. “Relax, just a minute. Calm yourself.”

You rest against Joel, and he pauses his ministrations on your clit. “I can’t do it again, Joel,” you plead. “I don’t think I can.” 

“I know what you think. It don’t matter, ‘cause it ain’t up to you, sweetheart. We’re tryin’ it again.” 

Joel restarts, circling and massaging your clit with that same pressure from before. And just like before, it’s uncomfortable. It hurts, and you don’t like it. 

“Lean into it, sweetheart. Let it ride.” 

Frustrated, you shake your head. “Daddy–”

“You need to let it happen. Got all night, sweetheart. Water’s gettin’ cold.” 

“Joel.” Your voice cracks.

Joel ignores you. He pumps his fingers, focusing specifically on your g-spot as he knows how sensitive you are there. Your protests begin to quiet, replaced by soft noises of pleasure. “There it is,” Joel purrs. “Make those pretty noises for me. You’re doin’ good.” 

Pleasure begins to build, just like Joel said it would. It almost makes you mad, mad that he’s right. Always right. Mad that Joel knows your body like the back of his hand, better than you do. The stubborn part of you wants to stave off release, but a bigger part of you doesn’t wanna fight Joel on this. You don’t like to fight with him anyway. You always lose. So, you allow yourself to bask in the pleasure Joel knew you’d feel.

“You gonna come one more time? You gonna come on daddy’s fingers?”

“Yeah,” you nod. Your eyes squeeze shut as the feeling builds, almost exponentially. Your gasps and moans halt and there it is - Joel’s pulled another orgasm from your body. More powerful than before, the feeling washes over you like the tide, waves of warmth and electricity flowing over your body with each movement of Joel’s fingers. “Yeah, attagirl,” he breathes. “Manners, sweetheart. What do you say?” 

“Thank you,” you whisper, out of breath. 

Joel rinses you with the water as you come down from your second orgasm of the evening. He taps you twice on the hip, “Up,” he says, and you stand up on shaky legs. 

Joel reaches for an old, floral-patterned towel and dries himself off first, then wraps it around his waist, thick belly bulging over the edge of the fabric. He grabs another towel for you next, drying your legs and arms one at a time before wrapping the towel snugly around your shoulders. 

“You finish those dishes?” Joel asks, pulling the drain stopper out of the tub. 

“Not all of them,” you answer. “I’m sorry.” 

“Nah, don’t you worry ‘bout it. I’ll do the rest, hm?” 

You wear a small smile, “Okay.”

“An’ I was thinkin’ that I could make us popcorn, like you like. Put on a movie. One of those girly ones I picked out for you, huh?”

Your smile grows. “Yeah,” you answer. 

Joel smiles too. “Good. Let’s get you dressed, then.” 

thank you for reading! please consider engaging by reblogging, hopping in my inbox, and/or commenting. your words go so far in keeping me motivated to write ♡

More dark!joel

[abbyslovergirlxo]

Same Damn Time

Caitlyn Kiramman x Reader x Ambessa Medarda

tw; Dom!Ambessa, Dom!Caitlyn, sub!reader, rough sex but they’re not so mean towards the end, wlw, sadism (cait/bessa), choking, slapping (everywhere lol), knife usage, blood kink??,masochism (you🫵) , crying, reader has a mouth on her and then folds (typical😒), idk why i made cait psychotic but oh well, oral, degradation, crumbs of praise lmao, ALL SEXUAL INTERACTION IS CONSENSUAL, I am not someone who writes noncon

Word count: 7.8k

… = time skip

a/n; whewww! like what can I even say, this fic is crazy asl. Like I actually think they’re gonna bring back stoning people just for this. Lowkey deserved. But I know there’s someone out there who’s gonna match my freak 😭 i had tooo much fun writing this while listening to the song, made me think of them 😩lots of tw!! so plz read that before scrolling!!! I feel like this is something you’re either really going to love or really going to hate sooo idk. Also I was literally fixated on Sevika/Ambessa and one edit drove me to madness so here we are, getting double teamed by Commander Kiramman and General Merdarda 😩 They’re both evil twins in this but Caitlyn is the more evil twin but no seriously read the tw…. anyways enough of my my rumbling, this fic is long enough lol.

Your ear shot up, body reacting involuntarily to the large grey door opening. Heavy echoing footsteps, hushed whispers, and then a closed door.

“ This is the one?”

The judgemental tone would’ve sent you spiralling, had you been anywhere else. But menacing glares and sharp words would do little for you here. The lights were dim, unfavorably so, only illuminating distinctly right above your chair that you sat in.

Their voices held unyielding authority. Everyone from topside did to be fair but something about these two gave away their status. Their faces were shielded slightly, your eyes squinting in an attempt to see who they were. That attempt was shot down, the small space of darkness they stood in protecting them.

You cursed yourself for not having been smarter that day, faster. For if you had been, you’d never know what the inside of Stillwater’s interrogation room looked like.

“ Yes, General. My enforcers found her near one of Jinx’s old hideouts. From the items that were taken from her we can safely say this one knows something. She knows Jinx. My men attempted to speak to her a couple of days ago but nothing came of it.”

You thought back to the ‘men’ who questioned you, hammered you with prompts that you refused to answer. The bruises on your back proved how badly they wanted to know but you never relented.

“ I don’t know anything.” A lie. A clear one. Both of the women ignored you, tossing back and forth bits of information. You tugged at the shiny metal cuffs, now wishing you’d taken Vi up on those lock picking lessons. I’m so fucked, you thought to yourself. The room was a bit cold and you weren’t exactly dressed for the occasion when they snatched you. So, somberly you shook a little, giving up on listening to whatever they were saying.

You weren’t going to rat. You knew that much.

Your head was hung when you heard them get closer to you. Not bothering to look up, you heard two chairs groan from being pulled, until they sat down from what you assumed.

“ Name?”

Finally you peered up. Your expression faltered for a second, not expecting the sight in front of you. Their outfits clashed and blended seamlessly all at once. One sat in an all black attire, her long blue hair hanging down. The other was engrossed in clads of gold and red.

Sitting right across from you, they both had menacing glares. Well, the glares you expected. Not quite the faces. Shamefully you imagined seeing them somewhere else, maybe in The Last Drop? The younger, sharp features and pinched eyes, looked at you with a particularly hateful look. That didn’t bother you though, she was as intimidating as the drunk men you’d fought with in the undercity. Pretty though, you thought. The other one was a different story entirely.

She was tall, you could tell from how she towered even sitting down. Something about her was elegant. But she looked dangerous. Growing up it was quite necessary to assess who you could and couldn’t take on, and the moment your eyes locked with hers, you knew. The scars on her face also gave way to what she was capable of. She was a problem, even if her stare wasn’t as heinous as the woman beside her.

“ Name?” She pressed. Her voice was calm but she didn’t look like someone who didn’t know how to raise it.

“ I don’t know anything. I don’t even know who Jinx is.”

The blue haired girl scoffed, clearly unimpressed. Her companion remained analytical of you.

“ You’re a terrible liar.” Her voice came off unforgiving and brutal. You’d be lying (again) if you said you weren’t slightly offended. But you kept a neutral face, ignoring her.

“Listen, this doesn’t have to be rough. How this goes depends entirely on you, you choose. We know you know Jinx. We know that you know something. The information you have is quite important to me,”

The older woman paused for a split second, her stare unwavering and promising. She looked over to the younger one before looking back at you.

“ to us. So we’re leaving this room with something, I can assure you that. But I can also assure you that if you help us, we will help you.”

Her voice was smooth, like wine. Well according to what people say about wine, you’d never had it. She was firm in her words, almost as if she herself knew the power behind her promise. That would’ve reassured you had it not been for the fact that she was after your fucking friends.

You looked between the two of them again, assessing the scene in front of you over and over. You were unimpressed, if you were being honest, something you hadn’t been since these cuffs first touched your wrist. Sure, you could tell they meant business but this was futile as an interrogation tactic.

Good cop, bad cop?

While the older wasn’t exactly nice, you expected a missing eye, pulled nails and burnt skin. What you weren’t expecting was two, unfortunately attractive, topside pigs to do a century old method. If anything they should’ve switched, you thought to yourself.

Maybe then they’d get somewhere.

“ Still don’t know who Jinx is or why I’m here.”

“ You’re lying, again. And protecting a known fanatic and criminal. Tell us where we can find Jinx.”

You furrowed your brows, annoyed with her insults and claims. Who is she to tell you that were lying? Well, you were of course. But regardless, the tone in the blue eyed woman before you made you unsettled.

“ I’m not lying.” You gritted out. “ I’ve been detained wrongfully. You’re wasting your time. I don’t know anything.”

“ Yes, you do.” Her voice was firm, final. You scowled at her, but it was nothing in comparison to how she looked at you. Constantly her jaw flexed, on edge and angry. But she had no right to be angry in your mind, after all you were the one chained to a table being talked at rather than talked to. Secretly you wished for the older woman to speak again, at least she wasn’t such a bitch.

“ Are they your friends? Is that it? Because I promise you that we will find Jinx, it will just be a whole lot messier without your help. I don’t mind that. But I’m sure you will.”

You fought the urge to wipe that domineering tone and look off her face. You’re never going to find Jinx! You’re nothing but a power hungry topsider who doesn’t know the first thing about friends! I’m not telling you shit. Was what you wanted to say. But instead,

“ I don’t know Jinx or whatever else you people plan on asking me. Like I said, you. are. wasting. your. time.”

You put emphasis on each word, tired of repeating yourself. But to your un-satisfaction she rolled her eyes, shaking her head.

“ Look… I shouldn’t be here. I can’t give you anything because I don’t kno—“

“ Right.” She cut you off, so obviously tired of your insistent lying, even in the short minutes. “And you’re not an undercity animal.”

“ And you’re not a topside pig.”

In all fairness it came out before you could stop it. You weren’t used to being talked to like this and keeping quiet, it almost came out of pure instinct. But if you were surprised by your words you didn’t show it one bit, a small smile almost playing on your lips.

Her nostrils flared slightly, her breathing elevating. For a moment you thought she’d explode before the other woman spoke.

“ Kiramman.”

You memorized the name, not sure if it’d be useful later once you escaped but just in case. She simply collected herself, nodding at the woman who she called ‘General’. Maybe this is where you went wrong, your natural element slipping out, your ego on its way to arriving.

“ You should learn to control yourself, ya know… during interrogations and such.”

“ Shut your mouth.” It was harsh and whispered. This is when you should’ve stopped but you didn’t.

“ You must be new, since you need a supervisor to help you.”

“ Shut it.”

“ You guys have nothing on me. You’re fucking desperate. I’m n—“

Mistakenly you were so focused on Kiramman that you hadn’t been prepared for the harsh grab of your chin. It was quick, unbelievably fast and that scared you more than anything. The strength of which she used to crush your face also attributed to the pit in your stomach.

“ You’ve chosen miserably.”

Her voice was meaner now, she talked as if you were nothing. Like you were stupid. Instantly you regretted wishing for her presence.

Embarrassingly you struggled against her trying to pry away but it was useless. She effortlessly held you there, your cheeks red with humiliation and anger. You tried to ignore the victorious face planted on Kiramman.

“ She said shut your mouth so you shouldn’t be doing anything but that.”

“ Thought you w-wanted me to talk, which one is it?”

You half expected her to break your jaw or lash out like the woman beside her. Instead she remained calm, eerily calm. Anyone with such strength and patience was someone who got what they wanted. But, you weren’t going to talk, you reminded yourself.

She pulled you closer, not without the rebellious tug from you. Silently she analyzed you, staring into your eyes painstakingly long. You squirmed and averted your gaze. She let you go with a ‘hmph’.

“ She won’t talk, not like this.”

The blue haired girl whipped her head towards her, then back to you, a blue fire blazing in her eyes. From the short time they’d been in the room it was clear the older woman held a higher position, authority oozing from her undoubtedly. But now you noticed something dark about the Kiramman that you should have picked up on before.

She was angry, unreasonably so. There was something constantly threatening to set off inside of her.

“ Everyone talks. There has to be something that’ll make her.”

The General hummed. “ I agree, but not like this. She’s loyal to them and she’s prepared for a cell if not this. She’s attempting to use our anger to distract us. She needs something else.”

The goosebumps from the cold air became accompanied by ones born from anxiety. Your mind went into a dark place, worried you’d never leave Stillwater. What if they starved you? Kept you locked in some cell as your body slowly decayed while you still lived? True fear found its way to you for the first time, the unknown overwhelming.

Kiramman seemed to hold back a sigh, instead taking a moment to actually listen to her superior's words. You couldn’t tell what she was thinking but from the firm nod she let off to the General, you knew it wasn’t in your favor. The grey haired woman stood now, making your heart race. Desperately you tugged at the chain once more, attempting to repeat your overdone line.

“ Look, I really don’t know anything.” Ignored.

The blue haired girl remained seated, leaned back slightly, watching silently as the older woman walked around the table. She walked to you with a certain prowess about her. She was taller than you’d expected, to your dismay. You refused to look at her when she was finally standing beside you, face aimed at the grey table.

You pinched your eyes waiting to be hit, choked maybe, or stabbed if they didn’t mind the mess. Your breathing raised as you tried to silently comfort yourself through whatever pain soon awaited. You held back a flinch when you felt large hands pulling at your chains.

It’ll be okay. It’ll be okay. It’ll be okay. Fuck.

*clink*

You snapped your eyes open, seeing your handcuffs now undone.

“ Stand up.”

You took in a breath, silently grateful that you hadn’t been harmed. You stood now, relieved. At least whatever they were going to do wasn’t happening in the now you thought. You looked towards the giant closed metal door, expecting your arm to be snatched as she led you to your dark cell. But to your surprise she simply spoke again.

“ On the table.”

You looked between the two of them.

You shook your head, not even at them, it just shook. No way in hell were you going to lay down on some metal table while these two psychopaths did whatever they wanted to you. You weren’t exactly happy about the bruises that already resided there, definitely not hoping for extras.

“ …No.”

You hadn’t wished to say it but you couldn’t bring yourself to willingly place your body on that table before they hurt you.

“ You misunderstand the situation. You’ve chosen already. So get on the table.”

You didn’t choose shit. That’s what you wanted to shout, to scream at them until your bones betrayed you. A million emotions rushed through your head, clenching and unclenching your hands. Instead you remained silent and unmoving, your refusal to acknowledge was saying ‘no’ in its own way.

“ Fucking impossible…”

You didn’t even have a moment to react to the words before you were pulled. A grunt left your mouth as your hair was gripped painfully. Anger coursed through you upon seeing the black uniform in your peripheral. You used your now free hands to try and pry her hands from you but she only gripped impossibly tighter, your scalp beginning to burn. She was swifter than you’d imagined she’d be, strong too, grabbing both of your hands with one, pinning them. This somehow was worse than cuffs.

“ Fucki— let me go!”

Ignored. Why did they ignore everything?

“ Where do you want her?”

Her General's eyebrows raised, but you didn’t see surprise. Not even disappointment. Content, maybe? You didn’t put it past her.

“ Let's put her on her back to start.”

She moved without question or affirmation. Irritation was clear across your face now, upset at the stinging that wasn’t letting up on your scalp. But clearly the woman behind you didn’t care, roughly forcing you onto the table. She wasn’t as tall as her companion but she was taller than you and it wasn’t an advantage on your part. The force behind her movements were unsettling, you hadn’t thought she was powerless at first glance, but her grip on you was unnerving compared to what you thought she was capable of.

The cold metal wasn’t welcoming. It felt like a million needles were puncturing your skin causing you to shudder. Your tank top strap had fallen off your shoulder amidst the struggle, close enough to slipping down making you wish your hands were free.

“ Give me her wrist.”

They swiftly transferred your hands, the Generals grip matching hers but you could tell there was more strength to be given behind it. You didn’t want to imagine her really trying to squeeze you. The cuffs you were free from moments ago encased you again, and you didn't miss the two extra notches she clicked causing your bone to shift uncomfortably with the metal. You scowled.

“ It’s too fucking tight.”

Not even a pitied glance, nothing. Ignored. Again. You shifted your wrist again, overwhelmed and upset. And this bitch is still gripping my hair, using her other hand to keep your shoulder on the table casually. So easily, and that made you feel vulnerable, helpless. And your now restrained hands weren’t helping, the slight burn making something in your throat want to creep up but you wouldn’t dare allow it, deciding to instead take it out on them.

“ Let go of my hair, you bi–”

You hissed, the stinging sensation pulsating across your cheek. It wouldn’t leave a bruise but you damn sure felt it.

“ Mind your tongue.”

The General ignored the glare you sent her straight from hell, instead taking off her jacket revealing a dark sleeveless sort of top. You couldn’t begin to imagine or decipher the detailing of it, topsiders always dressed too flashy in your opinion, too stuck up. Her arms were as big as you'd thought. Both being ridiculed with scars.

Then, another sharp crack resounded through the dark room, a quick punishing tug to your scalp. This one would unfortunately leave a bruise. You could tell. You didn’t hiss this time, too stunned, on the verge of groaning from the way she used your hair as a plaything.

“ What she said.”

Kiramman finally let go of your hair, the residue of her strength still pounding through your head. You tried to sit up but she instead used both of her hands to hold you down. With only your legs to move, you kicked but the General shut that down as soon as it started. Effortlessly she used only one hand to keep them pinned down, now looking over you and at Kiramman.

What now? You thought. Cut my skin until I fess up? Break my bones until I don’t have any? Beat me bloody while I lie on this cold table? Are they going to kill me when this is all over, when I don’t say anything? I’m going to die here, aren’t I? I’m going to die and nobody’s gonna know.

It’ll be ok. It’ll be ok. It’ll be ok. I can take it. I can take it.

Eyes suddenly squeezed shut, recited echoes of wishful thinking, a scratchy throat. You braced yourself.

“ Last chance. Tell us where we can find Jinx and I’ll send you back to your cell. Untouched.”

Your voice came out a little exasperated, anxiety and anger laced into it. You kept your eyes shut.

“ I don’t know who Jinx is so I can’t tell you that. I don’t know anything.”

Your shoulder crushed more into the table, pale hands squeezing.

“ You continue to choose stupidity, insolence. No more of that.”

Suddenly the grip on your legs were let go and you opened your eyes. She was still at the head of the table staring down at you. For a moment you considered kicking again but as if she read your mind���

“ Kick me and I will break every bone in your knee.”

Her tone wasn’t intimidating, demeaning absolutely, but not intimidating. The certainty in her voice made you throw away any ideas of using your legs. You liked your knees to say the least. You peered straight up to see an upside version of Kiramman, her long blue hair creating a shadow around her neck, her jawline distinct. Even without seeing her face, only the outline of lips and nose, the anger radiated off her body.

“ What now?”

The General looked over you, straight at her.

“ We’ll need to take her pants off for the next part.”

You and Kiramman spoke at the same time.

“ Wait, what? My pants?” “ Her pants?”

The older woman simply gave a one word reply, meant to supply both of you with a firm answer, ‘yes’.

“ Wait, wait.”

She looked down at you, eyebrows raised.

“ Do you remember something about Jinx? Something you’d like to tell us?”

You listened to the flickering sound coming from the light above you. One by one you let them pop into your head. Jinx, long blue hair and wild face as she hugged you. Vi, stuffing her favorite foodsin your face. Isha, making paper airplanes with you. For a moment you thought a tear might slip but it didn’t. You drew in a shaky breath, ignoring the sting on your wrist.

“ No. I don’t know anything. I just…”

You averted your gaze.

“ Is it going to hurt?”

A stupid question in your mind. No doubt torture hurts. But something in you needed to ask, needing some sort of certainty in what was to come.

“ That depends on you entirely. I’ll give you pain when you give me insolence. But when you give me answers, I’ll give you… ”

She suddenly ghosted a hand over your calf.

“ Relief.”

You shuddered a little, her graze unexpected. But you didn’t dare move your leg, not wanting to test what qualified as a kick to her. You didn’t want to imagine what she meant by relief, because it couldn’t mean that. It couldn’t mean that.

“ How does that sound?”

“ It sounds like I have nothing else to say to you.”

She hummed. Without another word she slipped her large hands in your waistband, pulling them down to your ankles. You wanted them back the second your bare thigh touched the cold metal. A click echoed and you looked to see a blade in her hand, small in size but formidable in design. Gold snakes seemed to embroider its handle. You sucked in a harsh breath at the sight, your eyes locked on it.

Your eyes flicked up at the blue haired woman, her position now changed so that you could see her face again. Her eyes almost beamed? For the first time an expression other than anger displayed itself on her features. Now she looked almost… pleased. Excited.

It’ll be ok. It’ll be ok. I can take it. I can take it. I can take it. Hopefully.

You ignored the last words, watching as the General kept her eyes trained on your plump thighs. Opening them, she traced it right on the inside of it. Immediately you could tell it was sharp. Too sharp. It was cold against your skin, not as harsh as the table but unforgiving nonetheless. Anticipation rushed through you. Hands clenched within its restraints, the light flickering and flickering, her soft hands on your shoulder, icy metal on your skin, her hand slipping onto your thigh and then….

“ Ngnh!”

Your head pressed into the metal slightly. You’d have been embarrassed by your whimper if it wasn’t for the sudden warm drip down your thigh. Blood, you assumed. You’d been through worse but you still squirmed at the cut now adorned on your skin. She pushed down on your thigh, not fond of your squirming. Then she continued, tracing the blade across your thigh, waiting until your body finally relaxed, stopping itself from that state of bracing. And right when you did, she’d swipe a quick line across your shaky, burning legs. Always between your thighs, always.

It felt like electricity was rushing through you, it was all so overwhelming. You felt like you were being swallowed alive and they had barely done anything. The cuts burned and sent a rush of pain through your nerves and skin. Everytime you looked at Kiramman her face was becoming alive with intoxication. It’s like she couldn’t pull her eyes away, trained on the way your leg wobbled under her General’s hand, how you whimpered lowly, the light trace of blood on the expensive blade. You jolted again, particularly harder this time.

“ Relax. It's just a little cut, you're a big girl.”

It continued like this. You tried your best to stifle the whimpers coming from your mouth. The last thing you wanted was for them to hear what they were doing to you. Over and over she painted your thighs with your own crimson, and it hurt. It hurt, it did. And that's all it should be.

But your stomach kept getting that feeling. It burned, like the surface level cuts she gave you. It burned every time her calloused finger swiped across your sliced skin, collecting blood. It burned when she smiled suddenly, as if proud of her work. And it was scalding when you looked up and saw those blue eyes entranced. But it wasn’t pain. It wasn’t…anger. It was something else. Something that made you want to release that feeling in your throat, made you wish she meant something ungodly when she offered relief.

“ What's this?”

Your skin was hot to the touch now, sweaty. Trembling slightly, you looked up at her. For a moment you couldn’t begin to imagine what she was referring to until you traced her eyes. You silently prayed that it wasn’t what you thought. But from the way she asked, you knew.

“ What is it?”

Kiramman asked, curiosity clear in her voice. The older woman smirked, staring down at the wet spot in your panties.

“ It seems her body is more honest than she is. I think our little prisoner likes this. Her panties say so at least.”

Your face burned so hot that it rivaled the sun itself. You considered saying something, protesting and denying it. But what was the point? It did feel good, the burn felt good. And she had the evidence right in front of her. You couldn’t meet either of their gazes, looking to the side in shame. Kiramman laughed, the vibrations reaching you through her touch.

“ I knew it, she was whimpering like a dog. Isn’t that right?”

You shook your head, still refusing to look. But she wasn’t having it, using one of her hands to pull your chin. Even upside down, she looked menacing. She forced eye contact. Her face was rampant with mocking undertones, sadistic glares.

“ Is that why you’ve been so rude? You wanted us to give you a little pain, show you a good time? You really are pathetic.”

“ That’s not tr– n-ngh!”

A stinging pain after a quick slap to your clothed cunt made you whimper louder than anytime the blade touched you. It felt like a live wire tapping your skin, your legs snapping shut. The wet spot in your panties grew, your breathing uneven.

“ Insolence. Tell the truth.”

I can’t. You thought. Telling them that you’d enjoyed it, even a tiny bit, seemed more daunting suddenly than ratting.

“ I’m not ly– f-fuck…”

You weren’t sure if you’d ever be allowed to finish a sentence, her hand opening your legs followed by another slap coming down. Your eyes fluttered for a moment, your face squeezing with pain and pleasure. Kiramman used the hand she never removed to guide you. A smile was now on her lips, wide with genuine amusement.

“ Oh god, did you just… moan? You really are something aren’t you? Is that what it’s going to take? A few more slaps to your cunt and you’ll be blabbering? Or maybe…”

She lowered herself, close enough that her hair brushed against your face. You whined again, another unsuspecting smack from the older woman. You hadn’t even done anything, she just liked the way your panties got damper with each hit. Kiramman almost thanked her for it, relishing in hearing the noise even closer. She whispered to you.

“ If I make you cum enough times you’ll remember something. I bet you’d like that, letting a… what was it that you called me…a topside pig make your cunt cry?”

Finally, you gave way to the ache in your throat. A tear fell down your face suddenly. Another burning sensation forming in your stomach at the feeling of the General toying with the rim of your panties.

“ Please…”

It was quiet, almost matching the decibels of the wind. But you knew she’d heard it. It was obvious from how her grin widened, her eyes looking like ones of a deranged woman.

“ Please what? Please…make me cum? Please…let me go? Please fucking what?”

In this small moment of time, you almost felt like you were watching your dignity physically leave your body. You imagined telling her to let you go, that you didn’t know anything and a few cuts to your legs wasn’t going to change that. And you considered it, over and over. Then something played in your mind, a sick fantasy woven in desperation. In it, you asked her what you really wanted to. And in it they kissed you until you couldn’t breathe, made you finish until you didn’t know how to walk. You considered both. But only one of them made your core ache with desire. Your eyes were even glossier now. Suddenly you were working yourself up for a new kind of courage.

I can take it. I can take it. I can take it.

“ Make me cum please.”

“ Please who?”

I can take it.

“ Please, Kiramman.”

“ That’s it. Finally something coming out of your mouth other than horseshit. But you still need some manners…”

The grip that had left your ears ringing suddenly came back, her pale fingers peeking through your hair. She pulled your head up, forcing you to look at the General. You groaned, arms thrashing slightly, the sting of the metal never relenting.

“ I’m not the only one here. Go ahead, ask General Merdarda too.”

You gritted your teeth. This was already humiliating, and she was just reveling in it. Your legs were already spread, panties damp, dried crimson on your skin, hands bound above your stomach. You’d already asked, multiple times. And now you had to say it again, with a death-like grip on your hair and those hazel eyes peering at you, awaiting.

“ …but I already asked y—“

The slap was even stronger this time , the force of it driving your body insane. Merdarda grinned at you, even laughing a little at the noise you made. Another tear fell down your cheek but Kiramman was quick to wipe it. Right before she licked her finger.

“ But you didn’t ask me.”

If she slapped your cunt again you’d probably start grinding against the table, somehow making you look more pathetic than you do right now. So you gave in.

“ P-Please General Merdarda, will…”

I’m never speaking about this if I get out of here.

“…Will you please make me cum?”

“ Well would you look at that, that’s all you had to say little one. But what do we get in return? Surely you can’t expect us to make you cum with nothing given back.”

“ …But…I already said I don’t know anything.”

Kiramman scoffed.

“ Even after you soak your panties from a little cut, you still have the ability to lie. I’m almost impressed.”

She let your head drop back onto the table.

“ Almost.”

….

For a second you thought she’d kiss them.

At first glance it seemed so, her soft lips trailed over the red raised wounds, her nose spilling cold air on them. You reveled in it, an ember threatening to go a blaze within you. That was until she nipped at it, a hiss leaving your mouth. You couldn’t see her smile but you felt it sweeping across the throbbing skin. You cursed under your breath, the force behind her bite growing more rabid. She slapped the thigh she wasn’t ravaging, quick and harsh.

“ You like that, don’t you?”

There that voice was again, smooth and sultry. You weren’t sure if she was referencing the strike on your leg or her roaming fingers but murmured yes anyway. Yes to all of it. She had your shirt hitched up, breast exposed. Every once and awhile she’d toy with them, trace an outline around your nipple, wait and then pinch. So often though she found herself distracted, your features giving away how desperate you were.

Merdarda found enjoyment in watching your contort every time Kiramman did something to you, anything to you really. You were like a tight coiled spring, threatening to snap at any given moment. It's like every touch has you ready to risk everything. And you learned quickly they were into this a little more than you, mania clear across their faces. You were trembling, Kiramman taking advantage of how sensitive your legs were.

“ C’mere.”

You felt a little dizzy, seeing her lift her head up from between your legs. She grabbed your cuffed hands, pulling you up to meet her face. It all happened so fast and you winced from the strain in your shoulders. She was closer now and it was just now that you noticed the traces of blood on her lips. You hadn’t expected a kiss this time around, but it happened. It wasn’t gentle, if anything it felt like she was trying to cannibalize you with her tongue. Shamefully you pushed against her, sick to your stomach at how good she tasted. Hints of copper on your tastebuds, her wandering hands. She pulled back, being sure to bite your lip before doing so.

“ You taste that? It’s you.”

She dropped her eyes to your thighs, licking over her lips once more. A trance almost seemed to describe the hunger behind her stare, but you couldn’t be sure. You didn’t care either way, you just wanted her to do whatever was on her mind to you and soon.

“ fucking delicious.”

The whispered lust in her voice rivaled the reaction brought out from Medardas heavy hands.

“ You should taste her General. She’s sweeter than that filthy mouth of hers.”

Wordlessly, she captured your lips next. Her movements were more experienced, methodical and you felt as though you melted into her due to it. Ruby lipstick smeared onto you, a groan slipping from her as she made sure to taste everything you had to offer. The metallic tinge on her tongue made her pull in deeper. You whimpered, dizzy from lack of breath and insatiable roaming hands.By the time she pulled away your eyes were low, an unfocused look about you.

“ I wonder if her cunt tastes even better.”

Kiramman smiled sickly to herself, her gapped teeth giving you a warm tinge to your cheek.

“ We’ll know soon enough.”

….

Your wrist were nearly rubbed raw with all the thrashing you were doing. Time and time again you made attempts to close those abused legs of yours, in hopes of protecting your cunt. Unfortunately, Kiramman wasn’t pleased and she slapped it raw until you cried enough apologies. She mumbled something along the lines of ‘can’t be stupid and greedy’. But you somehow continued to be prove to be both, whining endlessly about the torture of her tongue. She never let up though, only unlatching from you to say obscene things or mark up your poor legs.

It seemed the pair held similar views, sick desires. Medarda would litter your neck and breast with purple marks shamelessly. She smelled of some expensive plant you’d never heard of, all you knew was that it made you whimper everytime her skin was pressed onto yours. She’d whisper siren-like words to you, etched in sin, rough kisses between them all. And yet you drank them into your ears like milk and honey.

“ You just came, didn’t you? Nasty girl.”

“ Do you remember anything now, hm?”

“ Don’t be so dramatic, keep your legs open for her.”

“ You must spread yourself open often. You’re a natural.”

“ Your cunts almost as noisy as you, dear.”

And when her tongue wasn’t making you drip onto the table, Kirammans words were just as wicked, if not more. Her posh accent was a coverup for all the nefarious things laced into it. A very, very poor coverup.

“ I said— keep. them. open. Unless you need a second pair of cuffs? … No? Then fucking listen.”

“ Go on, you can cry. I know it feels good. Yes filthy girl…just like that. ”

“ You’ve made a mess. Say you're sorry.”

“ Quit it, you can get a break when you remember something.”

“ Don’t act so sweet now— had quite a lot to say earlier. Isn’t that right?”

This was wrong, every bit of it. There was nothing exactly right about two high ranking officers of Piltover and Noxus eating you alive in the depths of Stillwater. The thought alone should send you running. It should have you drinking hot flashes of anger, leaving a bitter taste in your mouth. But it didn’t. It only made you spread your legs wider and beg shamefully for more kisses.

It all felt so good. They felt so good and a redeemable, rational part of you hated that. But every time rationality tried to sink itself into you, Commander Kiramman and General Merdarda were right there to sink into you faster. And by god, they made you feel more full than any morale.

You were so sure you were going to die before. And that thought that hadn’t been removed just yet, except now you thought you’d pass away from all the onslaught orgasms caused by the ravenous women beside and inside you.

“ a—angh! oh god…pl–please”

Kiramman held back a sly smile, seeing the way you twitched, body so sensitive. Her fingers were drenched with you, now gloveless. Initially her signature black gloves dug inside of you but the minute she tasted you she knew she didn’t want it anywhere but on her skin. Quite roughly, she had pulled three orgasms, somehow each one more intense than the last. But that wasn’t enough, not to them. Nothing was enough until those pretty lips whimpered something they could actually report back. And even then she wasn’t sure she’d want to stop.

“ Are you going to make a mess again for us?”

Pathetically, you fought back the white of your eyes before looking down at her. She couldn’t help but grip your thighs tighter at your teary face, nodding exhaustingly down at her. Medarda kept you slightly upright, your back arching into her bicep while she sucked on your breast. Honestly she hadn’t a clue how long she’d been at it but by the rate she was going you’d look a fucked out mosaic by the time they were done. She laughed to herself but you knew it was at you. And that fact only made you rut against the table more.

“ This is going to be your fourth one dear. We’re never going to leave this room if you keep being so stubborn.”

She trailed her kisses up your chest. A peck here and a peck there. The slow ascend of her affections compared to the rapid thrust of the others fingers made you bite your lip, the skin pulling between your teeth. By the time she was up to your ear you were practically panting.

“ Or is that what you want? For us to keep making you cry until you can’t anymore?”

They’d never know it and thank god for that but you almost whispered a yes.

Kiramman couldn’t hear what was spoken but she definitely felt it. You clenched around her even harder, a long mewl spilling from you. She creased her blue brows slightly as she sped up her fingers, making sure to never be gentle with that special spot, secretly itching to hear just how loud you could get whenever you came. Her counterpart was just as wanting for it out of you, a more balanced desire about her. Even in spite of the way she pulled you in for another kiss when she heard you sob, “ ‘m s-so close..”

This time Kiramman both felt and heard it, her fingers happily accepting the tight squeeze of you. She latched back onto your clit which was practically begging to be consumed again, if you asked her. Immediately you tensed, using every ounce of self restraint to not slam her cheeks with your legs. It also got devastatingly hard to keep up with Medarda’s mouth, she pressed into you like she forgot you needed air, like you only needed them. And as the coil in your belly grew and the sloppy sounds of her eating away filled the room, you did need them.

A muffled moan ricocheted into Merdarda and she invited it wholeheartedly. When she finally pulled away, you used your bound hands to grab at her hand groping you. You squeezed it the second you felt Kiramman offer a grunt inside of your cunt. She licked you like she was rabid, lost in whatever drugs your pussy clearly had laced in it. Merdarda found it all so nasty, so amusing. Seeing the renowned Caitlyn Kiramman so cruel but so feral, and you with your slick mouth gone and lips swollen, made her clench around nothing.

Even if nobody in the room spoke it, you were all enjoying this ‘interrogation’ a little too much. That manic laughter that constantly filled Kirammans head, those stupid pigtails and flashy gadgets, had even subsided for a moment. She still wanted nothing more than to rip that smile off her face, but the way the tears journeyed down your face so easily made her want something more.

Right now all she wanted was for you to cum on her face, and she nearly keeled over when she finally heard you sing that song for her. A moan that could only be replicated in the best whorehouses of Zaun left you. The pair both smiled the moment they heard you whimper what they already knew.

“ i th—‘m gonn—“

You could barely manage a single word, back practically ingraining itself in her arm the way you arched over it.

“ Let it out, make a mess.”

Your body truly was more honest than you and clearly obedient because the second she said it you did. Your self restraint abandoned you, left you on that table shaking and crying. Your bruised legs kissed her cheeks (not so gently) as she ate and thrusted at the same pace she did before, never letting up. Even with your legs shaking and around her she just drove in deeper. The pleasure slipped into overdrive making you shake your head, trying your best to pull away, use your hands, anything to make her stop. But Merdarda snatched your cuffed hands.

“ kira—kirammannn!”

Wow, that’s the only time she’s heard her last name and wanted to hear it more. But she ignored you, knowing you were begging for her to stop. By now your legs had dropped, too weak to hold up. Your whole body practically vibrated as you lost your breath. Maybe it was the burning sensation ripping through you or the cotton in your head but you stupidly turned your head to look up at Medarda.

“ help…me…gonna fu— die!”

First she looked at you, toyed with your nipple as your hands fought against hers. So pretty and so pathetic, she thought. Then looked down at Kiramman, whose eyes now opened and met hers. An amused glint was in her blue tinted stare and suddenly Medarda couldn’t think of a single reason she’d help you.

“ She’s eating child, don’t be so rude. Have some manners.”

She was looking at you when she said it, but from the mockery in her tone you knew it was meant for more than just you. And it was confirmed when a smile traced itself onto your throbbing cunt. But it quickly went away. She was eating after all.

“ i canttt! pleasee!”

Kiramman didn’t stop until you went silent, unable to speak, inconsistent babbles of nonsense here and there. You weren’t even shaking now, just twitching and breathing like the oxygen in the room had been sucked out. When she finally got up from between your legs she couldn’t help herself and gave two quick bites. A strangle mix of a hiss and moan could be heard as you watched her stand. She lifted her fingers to your mouth, shoving them inside.

You expected her to be rough and jam them down your throat but to your surprise she simply swirled them around your mouth. Despite that voice in your head you sucked at them tiredly hoping to please them. And pleased they were. They both watched as you weakly licked her fingers clean. By the time she pulled away they both knew that previous orgasm just couldn’t be the last.

“ Do you remember anything now?”

You were fucked out, but not that fucked out.

“…no”

Thank god, they both thought in unison.

“ I guess it’s my turn then.”

…

BONUS

Kiramman walked with pure candor on her face. She heard the whispers as she walked past but she ignored them. What was the point in entertaining fools? Besides, the moment her eyes met theirs they always went silent. Always. Today hadn’t been the best day for her. Most days weren’t, hunting for that psycho and her friends wasn’t an easy job or a fun one. But she wouldn’t rather be doing anything else. Well…maybe someone else…

“ Don’t let anyone in.”

The guard nodded dutifully.

By the time she reached the room, she was already imagining her sweet song. She didn’t have to wait long to hear it in person because it was practically blasting throughout the room the moment the door opened. She closed the door behind her, smiling deviously as she placed her heavy cape onto the chair.

“ She’s even wetter today, if you can believe it.”

She laughed softly, “ Oh I can believe it. How many has she got so far?”

“ Just two. Don’t worry, you didn’t take too long.”

“ God, I know. I got caught up with that fool Salo.”

Medarda laughed now, knowing all too well how annoying he could be.

“ medardaaa”

Your toes curled, struggling to handle the two large fingers inside of you. Both were devastatingly skilled with their fingers but hers were undoubtedly bigger. Way bigger. And if the size wasn’t agonizing enough, she was hitting that spot over and over. This time your hands were free, and you used them to grip her bicep.

Suddenly your throat had a new necklace. Not a very nice one. She squeezed her free hand around your throat, speeding her fingers. Clearly she wasn’t a fan of your interruption, despite the way her cunt ached when she heard her name in such a filthy way.

“ Can’t you see us talking? And you didn’t even greet your Commander. She came all this way to see you.”

You thought you were going to pass out, the squelching sounds and sultry insults becoming distant. Your mind and body gave into her once the resisting clearly wasn’t doing anything. And you loved it. Each filthy posh coated word, lingering touch, rushed collided lips left you undone. The strength behind their hands made you want to never be without it. And for the past two weeks it continued to, leaving you right here in this room on this desk, unable to breath, only able to cry and spread your legs wider.

Medarda let go, allowing Kiramman to finally slip beside you. As much as she loved the song you offered, she wanted your lips. You gasped into her, them giving you no time to actually catch a breath between the transfer. Lightheaded, you still pushed against her, wetness dripping from your face to hers. She pulled away, licked the rogue tear from the corner of your mouth.

By the time she was looking at you, you were heaving, clasping onto her bicep instead of Medardas now. She watched with such marvel as your face contorted into those beautiful expressions, such a drastic difference from the stupid girl she interrogated. Logically she knew she couldn’t call what all of you were doing an interrogation. So she opted to saying ‘some investigating work’ the few times someone inquired about her abrupt departures. It wasn’t a complete lie, her and Medarda were investigating something every couple of days. your cunt

Her gaze traced to the brown fingers moving in and out of you, then to glisten on her General's hand and finally to your thighs. They were healing nicely. Unfortunately for her they wouldn’t leave a scar according to the doctor she took you to. She almost frowned at the thought.

But then she heard you whisper a quick, “ h-hi Kiramman…”

She smiled at you, a warm thought coming to her.

“ Hi, filthy girl.”

We’ll make sure they scar next time.

P.s. They had the officers who beat you killed 😜

[dilf-docs]

My Baby's Fit Like A Daydream

husband!pedro pascal x younger!reader

summary: your relationship is finally out to the world. now, pedro and you will explore what it feels like to have your love out in the open.

warnings: 18+ (minors dni), age gap, smut, FLUFF, the empire of bad humor strikes again, hurt/comfort bc all roads lead back to angst, a brief mention of bodyshaming, this is lowkey pwp my bad, dirty talk, fingering, p. in v., bathroom sex ijbol, exhibition kink (they be fucking everywhere but in a bed), degradation kink (he calls her a slut twice), the one and only creampie (twice), so naturally: breeding kink, ALSO pls stop the husband!pedro reqs, i beg. a delulu girl can only take so much 💔

word count: 10,991 words

side note: not one but two requests to be fullfilled! this is as a sequel to call it what you want. also, spam time: i happen to write in wattpad as well, and i have a pedro pascal social media fic going on :) but it's on spanish tho. if u speak the language and would like to tune in, read it here AND spam again but speaking of the ptwt dynamic, why don't we become moots? check my (new) stan twitter account here (i had one in 2022 that i had since 2016 but entered a crisis and deleted it lol)

part: I/II

The news had spread like wildfire.

As soon as you hit the red carpet, hand on hand, rings finally on display―shining under the spotlight, your phone had been blowing up nonstop: every show, podcast, tabloid, news outlet and social media had been talking about it. California had turn into an easter egg playground; everyone was eager to know it all.

(They had found the church where you married, the dress boutique, jewelry shop where Pedro bought the rings―the employees ratted him out, even sharing pictures of the moment, your husband posing with them without knowing of the future treason. They too had found the place where the reception took place, and even the name of the priest who had married you, but he refused to give the hungry press any details. God Bless)

In short, it had been a hell of a week. You figured dissapearing for a while was for the best, but with some interviews still left, that option had been discarded. Still, doesn't mean you couldn't retreat for a couple of days to the tranquility of your home while it was time to show up again. Well, as peaceful as it could get, since reporters were camping near your house and roaming around Hollywood Hills like vultures; the neighbour's nagging was just another layer of problems in your shit cake.

"I'm sorry, Louis. Walks will be postponed for a while" you talk to your cat, but the lazy bastard just stretches and lays down again. "Yeah, I can see you're affected. Don't cry"

"It's not the cat's fault" Pedro emerges from behind, "don't take it out on him"

He takes a sit next to you, two mugs in hand. He gives you the one with a chocolate steam, a souvenir he bought when you visited your home country last summer. You wonder if that's a trip you'll ever be able to make again.

"I'm not. Just- It's horrible that I can't even go outside my own house and walk the same roads I've walked in four years because the press is hidden with cameras in, I don't know, bushes!" you exclaim, quiet rage carried within your words. "It's unfair, really. All I want is to walk my damn cat without a flash up my ass"

Pedro nestles his face in your neck, nose carressing the skin. Giggles leave your lips, the sensation ticklish.

"It'll pass. It always does" he says, voice assuring, probably because he's used to the violation of privacy, but you're not. Getting bigger, is this the price to pay for making a name for yourself and claiming out loud who you love?

"I hope so" you murmur above the quietness of your home, a sound as eerie as fake, devoid of it's tranquil nature as a world of invasion awaits outside.

"Do you trust me?" Pedro speaks, voice unwavering. He holds your gaze, steady brown challening your shaky orbs.

"I do" you speak up, yet you wish you could believe it. You believe in him, there's no question to that, but do you believe in yourself? That the love you'd put out to the world would be treated with the same care and respect you have treated it in secret? For a fleating moment, you miss the secrecy.

"Then trust me this will be over sooner than expected" he presses a kiss to your lips, soft and sweet, feeling remanents of chocolate he licks away, as you mockingly yell ¡Qué sucio! but it's devoid of malice. "In time, this will become another anecdote we'll share with our kids, and laugh with our grandkids when we get older"

You smile, feeling tears in the corner of your eyes. Oh, doesn't he turn you into a pathetic sappy wife?

"Well" you sniffle, giggling to push back the tears away. "About the old part..."

He playfully kicks your side. "Uno ya no puede ser romántico, que le salen con estas cosas. Your generation could use some respect, you know?" (one can't simply be romantic anymore)

Pedro gets up, picking the mug from your hands as both rings brush together, the gold shinning under the morning Californian sun.

"And your generation could take a joke" you quip, lips curled up like you hadn't in weeks.

"Very funny, y/n. Thought you loved me" but then he's pressing a kiss to your temple like kissing you once isn't enough, promising to return after washing down the mugs.

"I do!" you shout to his dissapearing broad frame as he enters the kitchen, and he playfully makes a dissmissing move with his palm.

The laughing dies when your phone chimes next to you.

You shouldn't really, but the curiosity that draws you in is as intense as a magnet. The phone burns on its position, screaming for you to open it, despite being told by your husband that the best was choice was to ignore it until the buzz had died down, but you're afraid the turmoil isn't nowhere to be finished. Comments can be mean, he'd said, they can hurt you. Pedro said he'd learn with time to ignore it, but he was experienced. You weren't, so naturally, as your husband and protector, he wanted to shield you from the pain.

Although, both of your fandoms had been pretty supportive of your relationship, some user even claiming to suspect it, making threads full of easter eggs and connections that validated the theory which was now a reality. I've connected the dots, followed by pictures of you sharing wardrobe, slips on interviews, similar backgrounds in your posts across social media, and of course, the two Gladiator Ii interviews. Many resorted to making edits or screaming over your pictures in the premiere, demanding for more content you had yet caved in to share (there was a gigantic carpet of evidence sitting heavy in your cloud).

So, in a way, this support made it hard for you to truly dimension the hate Pedro warned you about: all you saw was fans being happy and showering you with love, making paparazzi to be the only problem as for now.

That's it.

You cave in, turning the phone on as you bite your lip, searching first your Instagram: a bunch of new followers, many with variations of ispunk on their usernames, as well as a swarm of comments on your recent posts. There's a small voice in your head telling you to turn away, but your thumb moves without thinking, clicking on pictures of the red carpet―a carrousel of you and then a picture of you both at the end, one fans had been gushing about the last couple of days, rings on display, practically up their noses. You were smiling, and Pedro was looking at you fondly, his other hand holding Lux but his gaze never leaving yours; he was too perfect to be real―yours.

You unconsciously smile at the captured moment, love obvious on your faces, so you open the comments, thinking it would be the same support or love radiating of the comment.

But boy, weren't you wrong?

It was all the same, support lost between waves of hate. Variations of bodyshaming, age shaming and even gold digger claims were on full display across the comment section. "She's ugly" "In it for the money, am I right?" "I thought Pedro had better taste, lol" "She got the role in Gladiator II because of nepotism. Or cocksucking" and then a cruel answer that read "Right, threesome with Ridley. Ew, what a whore!"

Worst of it all, some even had Pedro profile pictures, or usernames and accounts dedicated to him.

Your heart was beating like crazy, chest heavy and hollow, face red with emotions you couldn't quite place (embarrasment? fear? rage? sadness?) as you kept searching across Twitter*, doing a quick skim of the trendings that included you. The same hate speech pattern was all over the timeline, some betting for divorce in a couple of years (even months!), while others took their time dissecting your looks and relationship. As if they knew. Long gone were the edits and harmless threads: the hate wave was here to stay. Some where even being a bit racist, the irony of it all, being Pedro himself was latino and didn't shy away from it, rather proud as he didn't miss an opportunity to shot out his dear Chile. Or any social issue, as a matter of fact, very vocal on his political beliefs.

This was fucking ridiculous, and if the cameras were an issue, this swarm of negativity is what really took a toll on you, the flashes as you went grocery shopping now barely a scratch. No, this was worst. All you wanted to do was cuddle in a blanket while wearing one of Pedro's shirts and dissappear. Too much noise. Too much hate. You can feel it creeping up your body, tainting your soft curves, wrinkles, acne scars and face. It's like rough hands, tugging harsh, ripping your vocals because you can't scream; no words to express this pain.

You knew one day it would come, but never imagined the hurt and to what extent people were capable of. Cruelty. Dissecting your life and body like it was a show for them to be entertained: your marriage was a circus and your body a joke.

It hurt their condescending dismiss of your love, questioning as if the gap were only numbers and not a pillar of your relationship that made you and Pedro closer, despite the bridge in age. You were reduced to a middle-age crisis, and he to a filthy man pinning for a younger girl. Your body was turn apart, despite no real flaws existing. Humans are meant to be so, not perfect, but real, and that was the problem: you had turn into an object―a target for their dards to pierce through.

Your body shakes violently with cries, deafening your ears that you don't hear when Pedro walks in.

"Why are you crying?" he rushes to your side, panic on his voice. "What happened? Are you hurt?"

You barely manage to shake your head, and then his eyes scan all over your features, until they land on the phone on your hands. The worry turns to anger as he asks:

"You looked at them, didn't you?"

He isn't yelling, but it would be better if he did. This contained fury, fading into dissapointment, as if you were a naive child scolded by their parents makes you feels small and stupid, as if you knew no better.

"I'm sorry-" you manage to choke out among tears, "I know you told me-"

"I told you" he interrupts, words laced with wrath, "so this wouldn't happen. See what happens?"

"Why are you talking to me like it's my fault?" you yell, and Pedro sighs, pinching the bridge of his nose in irritation. "I didn't ask to receive all this! Do I deserve the death threats, shame and hate?"

He walks past you, and it's like a slap to your face. Was he going to behave like this? Didn't it matter how you felt, or was it something childish that could be brush to the side like nothing? Insecurities you hadn't even think of come crashing down on you, doubts creeping up and attacking you from all sides. It's horrible. You try to hold onto the good memories, praying you don't loose him. You can't. You just can't.

"Answer!" you demand, tears spilling like a broke dam.

"I was just closing the windows. Or do you want to fuel the talk, huh? Give the hungry hoard more to bite?" Pedro then stands to hold your gaze, and you hate that you can't place his emotions. Anxiety corrodes your brain: was this really the beginning of the end?

"Do I?" you dare to speak up, and even if its loud, it comes out drowned, the exhaustion from the emotional turmoil taking its toll on you. "Do I deserve it?"

"No, you don't, carajo!" Pedro bursts. "You don't deserve any of that, which is why I didn't want you looking at those things!"

He sighs, realizing the anger is misdirected.

"I'm sorry"

Your broken wails are the only thing to be heard. He hates himself for being a part of it, even if not the biggest.

"No, I'm sorry for being so stupid" you sob. "I-I just wanted for people to be as happy for us as I am with you"

"Come here" but he's the one cutting the space to embrace you.

His scent calms a part of you, body still rocking with violent shakes.

"You're not stupid. Nor ugly, or any of those things people are calling you. No, mi amor. You're beautiful, smart and talent. They fail to realize I'm the lucky one. So please, don't be hard on yourself, yeah? I can't bear to see it. Less if I know it's not true. You didn't ask for it; you don't deserve all that bullshit"

He presses a kiss to your temple, arms that hug you tighter holding you close close up to the point his heartbeat melts within your own.

I won't let you go. You won't fall as long as I got you.

"We'll get through this, yeah? Think of the future, and what's to come. It's hard, that I know, but let us enjoy the moment. Life is too precious to waste it away" he brushes stray tears with his thumb, softly and full of love that words aren't enough to express. "I'm here" the out loud, "and I'm not going anywhere. That's a promise"

Later that day, Pedro posts a carrousel of unseens, even one of your wedding (a video of your first dance), telling people to leave you alone. That he loves you, and that no malicious news, fans or comments will ever change that―suck it energy laced within his rageful statement.

Safe to say, in the next weeks, hate is barely a small voice whispering in the back of your neck, one that hushes down with each kiss and/or words uttered by your one and only devoted husband.

mandoshoney: y/n protection squad pull up, we ride at dawn starlightt180: unhing3dprincess WHERE ARE U??? PTWT IS IN SHAMBLES AND NEEDS U MY SHAYLAAAAAAAAAA elysyannemimi: i feel like a kid scolded by their dad. pedro has achieved the ultimate daddy status bobgirlll: is no one going to talk about how rageful/protective pedro sounded in that story????? NEED MORE FERAL PEDRO RN GRRrrrr ps. photos so cute, wish that was me lol pyramiidsf: i hope y/n is okay, ppl can be so cruel sometimes but at least she's got pedro on her side <3 he's such a perfect man :,)

It had been days since your fight.

In an sweet attempt to cheer you up, Pedro had taken you out for dinner to a fancy restaurant you can't remember the name of. If they'll snap pictures of my wife without my permission, I might as well show you off. So, per his petition, you had wore a little black dress that hugged every curve of your body perfectly and pushed your tits to the top. Stunning, he had growled, and it had been hard to push him off as he devoured your mouth in your house's doorstep.

"Let's give them talk" you had agreed.

So now you sat at the restaurant, Pedro filling your cup of wine for the third time in a row, talking about all and nothing: about politics, the weather, your siblings, Louis the cat, upcoming gigs around your home you wanted to go to, how support had risen and the hate had dwindled, the numerous calls of job offers and interviews to keep on milking your relationship... life had never been more hectic.

"You know, maybe the dress was a bad idea" he takes a bite of his meat, tone nonchalant.

"Yeah?" you challenge, cheeks flushed with alcohol, "why's that? I thought I had to look good. What changed your mind?"

"Turns out" he looks at you, gaze piercing through your body, brown warm eyes darkening, "I figured something"

You know your husband. It's still fresh in your mind the first day you took a notice of it: jaw clenching, gaze fixated at nothing and white fists balled up on to the sides, arms swinging while fingers itched. A vein on his forehead would pop, and brows would melt together in a furrow. It happened when you got recognized by a fan, on your early days, and he had taken a picture of you, uploading it to social media. Dating Pedro had been going on for little to five months, and the way this guy hugged you from behind, hand resting above your ass, had made your then-boyfriend see red. His posture stiffened, demeanor changed and face adquired all the characteristics above. There was only one correct answer: Pedro was jealous, so fucking jealous.

So here he is now, jealous to the bone, alcohol increasing the rage.

"And that is?" you push his buttons, something you normally wouldn't do, but you're drunk and God, so sex-starved. His possesive side was always hot, yet now? It had a layer of allure it didn't have before, the idea of calming him down long lost.

"You know what it is" he answers, but you tilt your head to the side, acting confused. Pedro growls, clenching the glass a bit too tight; you fear it'll break.

"No, I don't" you serve more wine in your glass, savouring the liquid. Some spills into your mouth, and you lick it while not breaking eye contact. "Enlighten me"

"Turns out" the words come out strained, a whirlwind of emotions burning in the tip of his tongue, "that I wanted people to look at my wife, but I looked their looks and realized I don't like how they look at her"

He rambles the words out, speech pattern slurred and ideas clashing into one another, clearly drunk.

"I see" you draw out, demeanor calm, but your panties have started to get wet.

"No" he hits the table, making your eyes go wide and people turn to your table. You should be embarrased, but you're only aroused. "You don't see what I see. And I hate it, I fucking hate it" he seethes, words spit out over your unfinished meal.

"Dessert?" the waiter appears from seemingly nowhere, menu on hand.

Pedro doesn't even look when he answers, "Sure. Bring your best"

"The chef's suggestion is Soufflé, a classic dessert from his country"

"That'll do" Pedro looks at you, but his brain seems to be somewhere else. Like he's thinking. "How long will it take?"

The waiter ponders the answer, yet doesn't think any weird of it.

"About twenty to thirty minutes. Would that be alright? Or would you prefer to switch to one of our quick-fixes? They're as delicious as our fresh and-"

"No" your husband interrupts, eyes shinning with something akin to dangerous. "We'll take the soufflé. Just want my wife to eat the very best"

The waiter smiles. "Sure, will be back in a few. More wine?"

Pedro stops the action, removing the bottle's neck from pouring more red liquid in your glass.

"Won't be needed"

They excuse themselves, leaving both of you alone. The restaurant bubbles with chat and instrumental music from a band playing on a corner, but all you hear is his heavy breathing and your heart.

"I wanted more wine" you pout, not even knowing why you said it.

He smiles devilishly. "I'll give you something better than that"

How does it happen, you have no idea, but then Pedro gets up with a brash move, chair making a sound that draws attention. He smirks, his auburn reflecting on the candle glowing in the center with a light that's menacing.

"I'm going to the bathroom" an announcement that feels like a threat that runs through the newfound tension; it could be cut with even a butterknife.

You sit there in silence, too stunned to speak. Your phone chimes in what feels like an hour (it's been a few minutes, probably three). You open the notification, a single text from Pedro.

I'm waiting.

So this was his plan all along, huh? Maybe he's gotten bored of sex on a bed and room like normal couples, because ever since that time you sucked his dick in his trailer, Pedro has shown an appetite for public sex. Well, more like just shown but never done. Guess that changes as of tonight.

I'm coming.

Truth is, after the reveal and fight, you hadn't had sex since that time before the London premiere. Press tour hadn't finished, and the movie was still playing in theathers, but it feels much longer the time you had gone without having his dick rearranging your insides. That changes as of tonight.

You practically leap out of your sit, rushing to the restroom, which is too fancy for your liking. You're unsure how to proceed, and it should be because you realized how stupid and reckless this is, but it's more because you don't know which door Pedro is behind: men or women.

You knock softly on the ladies room first. "I'm here" you speak, voice small.

After a few seconds, a muffled voice from behind replies: "Me too"

You giggle as he pulls you inside, mouth devouring yours in a hot kiss.

"The lock!" you squeal, yet Pedro is busy buring his face between your breasts, pulling the dress down until he's nipping at the skin before licking the spot with his tongue. Your back is pressed against the tiled white wall, cold meeting your now heating skin.

"Mmm, missed this" he mumbles in a drunken state. "Needed my girls so bad"

His words elicit a moan out of you, a way to comunicate that your body too had been aching for this.

"Please, Pedro-" you whimper, trying to get rid of the pretty dress. He doesn't say it, but his movements command for power, big hands dragging your dress down until the black cloth falls to the floor in a sound filled with grace, it feels merciful.

"Black panties? But I thought I was a man with a plan" he groans, calloused digits ghosting over the wet patch in the middle. He smells your arousal off his fingers, and this is so nasty but you're so into it.

"Two can play" is all you answer, eager fingers unbuckling his belt as you unbutton the formal pants and pull them down to his knees, so with his underwear.

"Sure thing" he chuckles darkly. "Just look at you, baby. So loud, but you gotta be quiet. ¿Quieres que alguien entre y te vea así? Fucking slut, begging for my cock" (do you want someone to come in and see you like this?)

He's always been sweet-talking you through sex, and you know he doesn't mean it aside from being lewd words, but you also didn't know you could be aroused by it. Change is welcome, to say the least.

His hard dick is immediately stroking at the apex of your thighs, like he's got no time to loose, kissing you roughly like he hasn't eat and your mouth is his meal.

"Twenty minutes" he grumbles, groaning.

"Or thirty" you add, whining when his cock brushes dangerously close to your dripping folds.

"Can't believe you're this wet already" he chuckles, but it sounds more like a breathy sigh, lost in the inside of your mouth.

"I've been wet since before we left the house and you kissed me"

"And I kissed you" he adds. "No sé ni por qué putas te traje si sólo quería quedarme en casa y comerte" (i don't know why the fuck i took you out if all i wanted was to stay at home and eat you out)

You moan at his dirty mouth, clicking your tongue as a way to say so.

"You dirty old man-" it dies in your throat when he glides inside your folds with ease, a finger slipping in, then two, as he curls them. Your head rolls back, landing against the door with a hollow thud.

"Dirty? But you enjoy this, don't you?" his fingers buried up your hilt. Your eyelids flutter, whimpering drowned by your lips, bitten so deep you think you start to taste blood. "Bad news, mami. You're as dirty as me"

You choke in your words. "No-"

"No what?" Pedro mocks, sliding his digits out of you and shoving them inside his mouth, sucking on them while looking at you. You whine at the display and loss of them, knowing he's tauting you for fun. "Don't tell me you don't want someone to come in here and see you acting like a dirty slut? To see you almost coming here and now with just two of my fingers"

"Fine. What if I want to, huh? Just give me your damn cock already and quit teasing"

Words were lewd, but Pedro smiles with adoration.

"That's my girl"

His length springing free to slap against his now smooth stomach, your mouth drooling.

"Sit"

He glares back, "in the toilet?"

"Well, do you happen to see a couch or bed?" you quip. "That's right: you were the one who chose the bathroom, desperate old man. So needy, aren't you?"

You see your husband turning around, ashamed, and you laugh. "I didn't think it through" and you avoid to add a that's quite obvious snarky type of reply.

"Want me as much as I do?" Pedro doesn't protest anymore, grunting some spanish curses before sitting on the cold surface. "Good. Then comply"

You swing a leg over his lap, not afraid if the thing breaks, dragging your wet folds against his cock. He moans, gripping your thighs hard, biting at your lower lip to hide a growl that seems to erupt from deep within his chest.

"Gonna ride you, baby. Is that okay?" you take the lead, and Pedro gets frustrated that you're taking up a plan that was originally his. Despite such, he just finds himself nodding wordlessly like a fool.

You line up, desperate to have him inside of you. But you go slowly down, taking his size, maybe because you're drunk or because you'd never fucked in a bathroom before. Because, really, how will you even try to explain your PR team a broken bathroom?

You gasp as he bottoms out, struggling to catch your breath with the relentless push. His strong arm cages your waist, as he moans in your ear, bodies going up and down in sync. His slides are smooth across his length, helping you find your pace.

"Fuck" you whimper, legs starting to shake. "I think I-"

"I know" he interrupts you, a quick kiss to your earlobe. "It's okay; I've got you, linda"

He thrusts upwards, toilet creaking as Pedro keeps you in place.

You bury your teeth into his shoulder to muffle your moans, skin slapping against skin loudly, his movements becoming faster. The pressure keeps on adding, until the tightness on your walls is too much, and you're collapsing over his chest, folds spasming as he empties his load inside of you, seed deep in your walls, dripping down your legs.

"Oh, shit" you gasp, "Pedro!"

"Perdón!" he shouts, then covers his mouth. "Mierda, no quise ser tan ruidoso. Ay, carajo. Didn't want to spill all over you-" (sorry! didn't mean to be so loud. oh, fuck)

"There's a sink" you start, "and toilet paper. We'll manage"

"Right" he looks at his watch, "we got about ten minutes"

You smile, cheek resting against the warm skin of his neck. "If the chef took the whole thirty"

"There's only one way to find out" he gasps for air. "Pero, ¿no estás llena? Still up for dessert?" his big hand finds it's way to your tummy, you still contentedly stuffed full of him. It lingers, and when you look into his eyes, he averts his gaze, ashamed of whatever he thought. (but, aren't you full?)

"After this, I need some sugar to make it home" your eyelids drop. "I'm starving"

He presses a loud kiss to your head, "that's my girl"

"Yours" you pull back to rest your forehead against his. "Just yours"

He jolts forward, capturing your mouth in a hot kiss, and you smile into it.

"Good. Now, I'll give my good girl what she deserves" he takes some toilet paper to clean his spilling load out of you, kisses running from your face to neck. Then, gently so, lets you dress in again, exiting the bathroom first to give you some cleaning up space. When you come back to your table, the Soufflé is there.

"Eat" he commands, voice thick and rough. You smirk, giving it a bite as you look into his eyes: hair disheveled, puffy lips and droopy eyes. The bite mark seems to shine, or maybe you need to lay down for a while. "Y no mires atrás, ¿sí? We got ourselves a crowd" (don't look back, yeah?)

That night, you upload a story with a picture of the dessert with a caption that reads: best meal I've ever had. The context is lost until news of your bathroom affairs hit headlines next morning, but you don't notice: your phone happens to be dead, and you're too busy getting railed in what could count as round two to charge it.

pompeiianbollockr: hello just woke up and saw the pictures WTF TMZ??? did they really do #that 😭 bring back public shaming unhing3dprincess: i bet my grandma they fucked in that fancy ass restroom ㅤㅤmostannoyingbillioner: unhing3dprincess QUEEN U ARE BACK 😭 BETTING UR GRANDMA AGAIN? OH IKTR WE WERE LOOSING THE ANCIENT TEXTS poppysplayground: ohhhhh they're so nasty (do u want a third) ㅤㅤann-gell: poppysplayground fr like INVITEN

The interview for Entertainment Weekly's behind the cover for Gladiator II was supposed to just include Paul and Pedro, but taking advantage of the free publicity and buzz your announcement made, they added you. Especially after the news about your restroom affair had hit, courtesy of TMZ; the rumor wasn't taken into account in the beginning, but now added gasoline to the gossip fire. Just what the movie needed: free promo.

You're sat in the middle of the two men, dressed in white as well, to match their attires with a flowy dress that loosely resembles that of Rome's. Then, Paul begins to speak.

"I saw the film for the first time when I was about 13 with my dad" he talks about the original movie.

"I saw it in the movie theater when it came out" you imagine a young Pedro lined up to see Russell Crowe's magnetic performance and let out a small smile. "I saw it twice, because of how emotional the movie was. Obviously it's incredibly visceral, and epic and the kind of movie you rarely get to see made, uh, these days"

You look at him, elbow resting on the arm chair as your body is all turned to his side. Truth is, you love listening to him, especially when he seems so invested, love for the subject rooted in each word.

Pedrito, you'd affectionally call. Ésto es una conversación, no un monólogo. And he'd blush embarrased, only for you to laugh it off, saying you would turn mute if that meant for him to continue speaking. (this is a conversation, not a monologue)

"It had an impact emotionally. I remember that, I guess, sadistically I was drawn to a second time go back again because, weirdly, it was very comforting. I remember it perfectly came out in year 2000. Right?" he asks, and Paul and you agree with a yeah. "I can remember what theater I was in and everything-"

"What theater was it?" Paul interrupts his passionate talking.

Pedro stops, "It, uh-" he rambles, before you all laugh.

"What about you, y/n? Were you even born?" Paul jokes, making you roll your eyes at his antics and deliberate desire to keep nagging you like some older annoying brother.

"I was like, born a year after you, Paul. But I didn't watch the movie until I was fifteen" you feel the gaze of both men fall upon you. "The first Ridley Scott movie I watched was Thelma and Louise, as you all know. Then my dad insisted I should watch it, and finally, at fifteen, when I had given up on my dreams to go on one last epic trip to the Grand Canyon, he played it. My eyes, they were, like, glued to the screen. I couldn't stop thinking about it for a while" you leave a small lingering touch on Pedro's arm, "just like he said: epic and emotional. Also, I had a huge fat crush in Joaquin Phoenix that lasted until I was twenty"

"That was like, seven years ago!" Pedro yells, making Paul snorts. "I feel deceived"

"Qué dramático. We're both married, you big baby!" you laugh, then make a joke before the next conversation starts: "You wouldn't think he plays an epic Roman General, would you?" (how dramatic)

They film some shots of you and the boys before moving to the next talk.

"I was doing a play in London at the time. I'd met with Doug and Lucy who are the producers of the film in LA, and then a zoom was set up and I spoke to Ridley for about 5 minutes about what Gladiator was going to be about. And then we spoke for the next 25 minutes about like, gaic football and dogs, and then I thought we'd do like camera tests and- but no, he just-" he shrugs. "I found out about two weeks later"

Now it's Pedro's turn.

"I knew that the project existed. I knew that Paul was doing it. I think it started with an actual like meeting with Ridley to go and sit down with him and I, whether or not the movie was going to happen for me or not, I was like I'm going to go meet Ridley Scott" he jokes, making you both chuckle. "It wasn't even about getting the job, it was like I'm going to go and sit down maybe five minutes, ten, twenty, as many minutes as I can"

"It was in LA" you speak up, "in his offices"

"Yeah, and thankfully he was willing to talk about all the things I wanted to know about, in terms of other movies, and that's what it really turned into"

"He's a wonderful Storyteller" Mescal compliments. "You could sit down with Ridley for-"

Pedro makes a joke, speaking over him. "Give me another one, give me another one-"

You still kind of hate the guy after his supposed comments on your husband's weight, but won't talk bad about a man who gave you work and your biggest role to the date yet, so you explain how it happened to you.

"I wasn't even planned to appear on the movie. As a matter of fact, my character was squeezed in last minute. Ridley is, just as they said, indeed, a storyteller" you smile. "The truth is, I worked with Cuba, his granddaughter, on a proyect together, a photography one. I was in London at the time, auditioning for a movie, when we met"

"London?" Paul asks.

"Yes" you laugh, ashamed. "I traveled to London with some of my savings, because you know what they say about not doing and then regretting. But I do regret it; I cried for my money to be back!"

"You didn't get the part" Pedro adds, barely containing a snicker.

"I didn't" you sigh, "Cuba saw me sitting alone on a café, eyes red with tears of failure and talked me into capturing such vulnerable moment. She didn't know me but made my day better, and she took some of the most beautiful pictures I've seen of myself. So, in a way, I won. I mean, she's the reason I got the role: my name came up on a phone call with Scott, as I had already made a name for myself, and showed him the pictures. He got in contact with my agent and I got the role after auditioning. Call that friendship nepotism"

"Didn't Pedro tell you about it? I find it funny that he was in the movie and didn't get you in" Paul comments, curiously.

"We were supposed to remain a secret, and the sudden connection when we had barely interacted according to the public, would've been weird. So no, Pedro rubbed his role on my face and then I came home with the new script as he received his. We both won our roles separately, and until we got it both, we realized just what it would mean"

"But now we're here" Pedro speaks fondly, taking your hand. "Rome conquers it all"

You can only hold his and stare back lovingly.

"Oh" the Irish man feigns disgust, "don't get all lovey dovey on me!"

The topic changes again, as Paul speaks.

"We meet early in the film, and this is again kind of Ridley's genius. He shoots it in a way that it feels plausible, but in like- the real action of that there's no way-"

They start talking ovwe each other excitedly about the process of filmaking, Pedro listing all the settings were the epic action takes place.

"We lock eyes" Pedro jests, "we lock eyes"

"All right" Paul plays along. "Three, two, one"

"i'm right here" you say, pushing your body to the front. "You got me third wheeling in my own marriage"

Paul laughs, breaking contact.

"Time for you to get a taste of your own medicine. You've made the rest of this press tour unbearable!" he protests, but his tone is devoid of complain.

"Marcus Acacius represents like-" Mescal then speaks about your husband's character, "he's a Roman general"

"No, he is the general of Rome" you correct, smirking.

"Be careful, princess. Don't let the emperor see you all over his General" the blue-eyed man next to you mocks, and you roll your eyes again.

"Will you ever let me live?"

Paul then talks about his character. "I'm like a lieutenant in the numidian Army. I kind of see Acacius as this, he- he represents everything that I hate about, uh, the Roman Empire"

"Well, the Roman Empire is expanding and expanding" Pedro takes the word, "and invading Numidia just to gain more and more power, and we realize that there really is kind of no ceiling to the lust of that power"

"And that's to do with the Emperors, right? Like, played by Joe and Fred who are wonderful" Paul adds, complimenting both actors in the process. "And let's not forget our Empress too"

You make a face at that, feeling in the need to defend your character.

"Empress Alba is tragedy. I think she embodies well the feelings of helpnessless all women felt during that time. She's an object, another shiny possesion subjected to her husband's amusement, so she drowns in all pleasure available to forget her existence. Lucius hates her because he sees all the filth of Rome in her, like, this whole debauchery and squandering while the people beg for scraps. But it's a pattern seen across history, isn't it?" you pause. "I think it's interesting to compare her to Lucilla, because she's loved by the people, seen as human- despite being noble. It's sad because it's until too late that Lucius realizes she's a victim of the system he hates"

Pedro smiles at your little intervention, loving the way you explain a character you'd play so graciously. One of your favorite movies is Marie Antoinette, by Sofia Coppola, so probably it felt personal to you in some level. God, hadn't you made him watch it at least ten times?

"It unravels through the film that I've kind of miscalculated who I think Acacius is, just as with Alba" Paul comments.

"His character misunderstands my character just like Paul misunderstands us" Pedro quips, making both of you laugh.

"Then it kind of culminates in a big fight that we have in the-"

"Doesn't it always?" you add. "Wouldn't be an epic without it"

"Do you want to talk about it?" Paul dares, jokingly.

"No we're not talking about it" he cuts him off.

"Who's the better fighter'" Paul asks after some silence. Pedro dares him with a go on.

"I would say I'm better the better share. What you think?"

"I would say Lucius is the better fighter"

"Lucius is the better fighter" Pedro repeats slowly, incredulous. "Do you want us to fight? Lucius is a better fighter than the general of Rome, who survived decades and conquered" Paul tries to defend himself but Pedro doesn't let him. "I fight four men before I get you, and I call it off!"

"Yeah, but I think if you hadn't called it off -"

"You don't think I would have do some sort of mature aged learning-"

They end up discussing a bit more until you clear your throat.

"Why don't you ask for a third party to break your tie?" and you point towards yourself, mouthing a cute me with your painted pink lips.

"No!" Paul immediatly opposes, "It would be biased, silence her!"

"Have you seen Acacius' arms?" you gauge Pedro's arms, biceps flexing under the white attire. "It definitely isn't biased, at all"

The conversation carries on after some more shots. In some, you pose seriously, but in between such, you laugh along with them, Pedro even hugging you and Paul from behind in one of both. No kisses yet, but you know fans will be rabid just with the lingering touches and flirty undertones in your interactions.

"We began together in Morocco, and I think seeing that set and the scale of the production so quickly, desensitized me to the scale of the of what- Malta was in the Coliseum, and Ridley moves at such a pace, which I actually think really helped me because you don't have time to kind of sit there and and kind of bask in the wonder of it" Paul talks. "Because you're shooting three or four scenes, build your expectations of how to meet the size of, it or anything 'cuz 'cause it's impossible" Paul looks at Pedro and asks: "and I think Ridley; did I tell you what Ridley said first day of shooting to me? He came out to the tent while they were dressing the set, thousands of extras, everything fire, camels and he comes in, and he's- he's smoking a cigar, and we're all stood around and he's like Are you nervous? and we're all like No and he slaps me on the back and goes Your nerves are no good to me, before we filmed anything. But I think it was like- it's funny, but it's this idea that this is your playground, and you have to kind of step into it and own it. So, I-I don't actually really remember my first walking into the Coliseum, 'cause I feel like I lived in the Coliseum for about three or four weeks"

"You lived in the Coliseum of your mind" Pedro quips, making Paul laugh.

"I do remember, you know, when I first walked into the Coliseum, you know. It- it gave me chills. Like, literally chills. Look! I still get the goosebumps" you point your arm. "Honestly, all of it felt just too real, and I couldn't help but for a moment, think I actually was in Rome- that I belonged to nobility"

Pedro takes your hand and kisses it gently. "That's because you do, princesa"

"One of the things that I have never experienced on a movie before, is that there was so little left to the imagination" Pedro expresses. "Me and the rest of the ensemble are together in the emperor's box, and there's this enormous battle that's taking place, and Ridley composed all of the off camera for us in the emperor's box, with Paul leaping from one ship to another taking two men down what would you call that?"

"A cloth line flying" Paul answers.

"Clothes line?" you try.

"A flying- a flying clothes line" Pedro decides, carrying on "just so that we could know what we were looking at. I couldn't f*****g believe it"

"That's true" you remark. "The result goes so hard- I mean, it looks amazing" you sheepily laugh. "The action, the violence, the epic... it all shines through. It just- it makes sense"

The conversation shifts again.

"The legacy of the first film is so profound, and has such a strong place in so many people's, like, hearts and minds, it's inescapable, but I was looking at it- and I was like" Paul shares. "The screenplay does a lot of that work for you in terms of like, the rubbing the dirt between the hands. the kind of DNA and the genetics that Lucius inherits. I remember reading the script and there's like, a moment in the script where it's Lucius puts on the breastplate and it's written like Lucius now becomes Maximus"

"But Lucius, despite being a son, is also a man" you counter. "He isn't Maximus"

Paul agrees.

"I kind of tried to park that to one side, because ultimately, where Lucius is coming from at the start of the film, he has a very different journey than Maximus does, and I was hoping that whatever DNA- and even just the physical gestures, was going to be one part of- a kind of small part of the performance" he explains. "What I tried to do is figure out exactly who Lucius was and where those differences lay between Lucius and Maximus"

"One of the things that I loved most about my character is that he's introduced in the beginning of the movie, in this very epic battle sequence, that I think in its own way homages the first film" Pedro shares. "But even better, because we follow him back to Rome and discover his direct connection to one of the only characters that is living and with us from the first movie, and I loved being a a kind of thread, an invitation, into what we know from the first movie by being Connie Nielsen's man"

Paul looks at you silently, before poking your side: "Someone is real quiet with that comment"

You narrow your eyes. "I have no idea what you're talking about"

"I am Connie Nielsen's man as Marcus Acacius, but as Pedro Pascal, I'm all y/n's"

Your face goes red at how easily you are to be understood, your husband answering just what you wanted to listen.

"Ha! Look at your face, I was right!" Paul ridiculises you.

But after such an embarrasing moment, he shifts the conversation again.

"There's a moment where Pedro has this, uh- it's so clever from a- from an acting standpoint, but also in the in the script like, you see this brutalizing Force come into Numidia, and there's this section where there's the burning of the bodies, and that it's one of my favorite shots in the film" Paul muses. "It's this closeup on Pedro, when he says Vae Victis to the conquered, and you feel like it's a really difficult thing to communicate in one line, that you see: Oh, this General is, kind of wearing this responsibility with great difficulty and shame"

"I wasn't doing that at all" your husband deadpans. You stiffle a giggle.

"You were very good in it" Paul argues back with a smile.

"That wasn't what I was playing" he insists, serious but Paul asks What were you playing? and you all laugh.

"If I had a favorite scene, I'd say it'd be naval fight" you mention. "The colliseum is filled with water, and it's this- it feels like a thing that has never been done before, and with the people cheering and the buzz, and the announcement and echo of the drumming, it's as if you were there, in the crowd. The tension is palpable, the violence is thrown at your face but the scariest one, is the one that lies underneath. Uh, Lucius character tries to attack the General while we, you know, the royals and especial guests, are sitting at our box, and he gets so close, it serves, I think the bottom climbing the ladder to bite the ankles of the top. Obviously, that before we know who Lucius actually is, but I think it's kind of cool"

The interview is ending, the last of your twelve-minute conversation being filmed now.

"I am really excited for everyone to see Paul" Pedro beams, making the younger one laugh. "I'm sorry but it has to be said. You are sensational in the movie" then adds, "and pretty easy on the eyes"

"Everyone in this movie is easy in the eyes" you quip, looking at your side. Pedro coughs a bit before speaking again, even if a faint blush is coating his cheeks.

"-And he worked so hard, and I got to see that happen like, in front of me, and on the day and just lead with Ridley, this enormous crew and this enormous cast... To get to see that, on the big screen, is really exciting and I think people are going to- they're going to love it"

"That's very kind" you exclaim softly with a smile, then add. "I'm sure of it, especially if you were a fan of the first. Both are very interwined, although each film is its own thing" you comment.

"For a lot of us, the actors, we haven't worked on a film on that scale" you violently shake your head "and I think, there's a little bit of trauma bonding that went on with, kind of having to- kind of feel like, total impostor syndrome within it all. But to see your friends operate at that level on a film of that scale, doing like incredible work. I think, across the board, I haven't seen a film on this scale for a long long time rhat's rooted it has the scale and the performances, and I personally think it's one of Ridley's greatest pieces of work"

senhoritamayblog: y/n was SO REAL holding pedro's arm and talking abt how he'd beat paul bc he's beefy ME WHEN moltisantiii: you know what i think ridley's greatest piece of work is? giving us this trio youlooklike-clarabow: y/n is truly a princess 🥹 i don't know if i want to be y/n to be with pedro or pedro to be with y/n ㅤㅤann-gell: youlooklike-clarabow well, she's the people's princess after all!

You haven't even left the room when Pedro is all over you, kissing your neck on that sweet spot of yours that elates a little breathy whine. Doesn't he know you well?

"What are you doing?" you manage to squeak out as his needy big hands grope your body, flesh soft under the flowy white dress. He grunts when he catches your panties, embarrasingly wet already at just a few sloppy kisses and eager touches.

"What do you think?" he whispers against your ear as you both try to walk away from where voices can be heard, and then Pedro is guiding you to a room, closing the door behind him. If he was able to walk to the room while kissing you, he must've seen it in a passing. Had your husband plan this all along? Greedy needy old man.

"What I think, baby, is you're forgetting something" you push him off, giggling. He makes a little pout, making it hard to keep your ground. "Now that everyone knows we're married and we suddenly both go misteriously missing at the same time, they'll just put two and two together. I mean, does it really take a smart person to figure it out?"

Pedro doesn't back down, still caging your frame against the locked door.

"So?" his annoyed and tense voice only makes you laugh more. That turned on was he? Pedro seems annoyed at your fit of laughter, his pants tight.

"What do you mean so? We almost got caught by Paul last time!" you chuckle amused. "And, are you seriously going to pretend TMZ didn't air our bussiness just about last week?"

"Well, maybe you should've thought about it before" he goes back at the task of attacking your mouth, words spewing in between hungry kisses. You mouth a little taunting innocent looking Before what? and then Pedro is talking while his gaze is glued to yours, tightening his arms around you, and the answer is just about that. "You should've thought about it before getting all flirty with me, grabbing my arm in front of the camera like the naughty girl you are. So fucking needy you can't hide it for a few hours, can't even go through an interview without touching me, looking at me, being possesive at a fictional marriage even" your face burns hot with embarrasment at that. Oh, was he being nasty on purpose? Why bring that up? "Haven't I taught you manners?"

It's hard to force yourself to hold his gaze while standing still. Taunting. Defiant.

"José Pedro Balmaceda Pascal" you chastise, "do you want people to know we are raw dogging in the dressing room? That's the manners you so badly talk about"

His face goes red, his demostrations stopping for a bit as he studies your now serious face.

"Wait, do you want to raw dog in the dressing room?" he gasps at the boldness in your words, which, to be fair, is kind of exaggerated, as you both have said worst stuff before. "That's not what I had in mind"

"That's not?" you arch an eyebrow. "Oh, no. Absolutely not. You can't just kiss my neck greedily and touch my body eagerly like a goddamn starved horny idiot, and then expect me to not act up on it, you old man"

There's silence before he speaks up again. "Y/n, you talked about manners"

You take a deep breath in, making sure the door is actually locked.

"Well, fuck them manners"

You capture his lips on a hungry kiss, same kind of force you had made fun of him, just minutes ago. He's pushing his tongue inside of you, as his hands move up to your shoulders and back down to your waist. You rub yourself against him, looking for some kind of friction, and his big calloused hands pulls your waist closer in an attempt to do the same.

"Manners maketh man" he's reciting, and such stupid proverb and line from one of his old works shouldn't turn you this much. Pedro lifts up the dress until your body is devoid of the cotton, murmuring about how unfair it was for you to taunt him with translucent cloth, tender flesh hiding under the white. So hard to focus on interviews, mami, when you're close to me or something like that, as you're too lost in the fire. No bra? Fuck, baby. Do you want to kill me?

"Sofa" you command, eyes darting to the furniture so you can show him where. "Now"

You take off your panties in a go, revealing the slick that's just a few seconds from running down your legs.

"I see, my legs won't be the only thing drooling" you mock his agape mouth. He takes off the blazer with shaking hands, sitting as you get on top of him. Pedro kisses his way down your neck, sucking on the skin. How will you get out of here without comfirming suspicions? Surely, there must be something inside here that could be of help.

"Well, I've wanted to do this for a while" he mumbles against the now red patches of before honey-ed skin. Again? you think.

"Have me or fuck again in public?" you ask out loud, and even if you're laughing, there's a layer of fondness in your voice. "I'm starting to wonder if you have an exhibition kink, papi"

He breathes a little no before biting right above your collarbones, his tongue then releaving the pain with a wet slick move over the flesh as you let out a whine.

"Busy schedule, mami. A husband's gotta find a way to make time for his pretty wife, even if it means fucking her in the goddamn dressing room" he says into your ear. Pedro had done more interviews than you, and between that and filming for his other projects, he's right. "So what if they find out? Need them to know who you belong to. I'm just a devoted husband, will you punish me for that?"

You caress his face, pristine hair now disheveled, the gel succumbing to the heat and sweat trapped in the room.

"Look at you, naughty boy. El burro hablando de orejas" you laugh, "but of course I won't. Need you too so bad" (look who's talking)

His finger wanders down to your pussy, big hand roaming around the area. His middle and ring finger run over it, the golden band starting to shine with your arousal. Fuck, that just made you wetter.

"Shit, baby. You're so eager... wasn't lying when you talked before"

"Needed you since you kissed me today, when you woke up" your teeth grit at his lingering digits. "Your dick rubbed against my bare thigh, fucking hard"

Truth is, you're always horny; being married to Pedro Pascal does that to you. But mornings? Waking up to that handsome face and girthy dick? You really be testing yourself sometimes.

"Jesus, mami" he whistles. "So fucking dirty, thinking about me all the interview because my morning wood grazed your skin, you dirty naughty girl"

Pedro finally slides his fingers inside of you, making you squirm under his gaze as your back archs. "So fucking beautiful, can't believe you're all mine" he moans and you squeeze his shoulders, nails digging and bruising his skin under the shirt that sticks to his skin, body heating up like a furnace.

"Please, Pedro" you plead, lip biting your under to supress a whimper. "Please curl your fingers, need to have you- feel you inside. Fuck-"

Your words cut off as he moves his fingers with learned ease, his thumb rubbing your clit as a treat.

"Mmm" you murmur with pleasure, back arched again, your tits too dangerously close to his face. Without much thought, he licks your nipple and then devours the whole breast with his mouth. All while looking at you, this absolute horndog. Your nails dig in deeper as you pronounce his name in a shaky exhale. Wanting more. Begging for more.

"Mmm? That's right" his palm on your waist squeezes lightly, more pressure on his grip. "Can't speak 'cause I'm making you feel so good, huh?"

You don't answer, instead throwing your head back, nails digging deep to the point he winces, making a face by the pain. You mouth an apology, but then he licks your nipple again, and teeth move to your nibble your earlobe―you're not sorry anymore.

"S-stop" you choke out, body shivering.

"What? Can't take what you asked for? No muerdas más de lo que puedes masticar, niña mala. Bad girl" (don't bite off more than you can chew, bad girl)

His lewd words elicit another moan out of you.

"I-I can. In fact, I want- no, need more. I don't want to cum on your fingers" you whisper in his ear, hot breath probably why he shivers. "Pull down your pants, pretty boy, because I want to cum on your dick"

"Fuck, mami. What a dirty mouth" he moans.

Eager hands try to lower his pants as your fiddle with the same feel, the borrowed wardrobe struggling to get off in the current position. His underwear goes next, and you squirm as he aligns his tip with your dripping entrance.

You moan and he grunts, as his dick enters your tight folds, sounds clashing onto each other as so do your bodies, fitting perfectly. His hands travel from your waist to ass, his head against the back of the sofa, your hands that were before on his shoulders now on his chest.

"Such a pretty view you're giving me, wifey" he tries to laugh, but the sound comes out strained along each powerful stride of his cock that buries inside of you, each bouncing harder, his hands pathethically running over your ass, back, hips, and legs, as his eyes devour the way your tits jiggle with each thrust, tongue burning with desire to suck on the skin again. "So beautiful, and all mine. Only mine. Mía"

His words drip with devotion and wordship; all the love in the world. Pedro calls you beautiful, goddess, and a string of spanish words crossed with adoration. Mami. Linda. Princesa. Diosa. Hermosa. It has your orgasm looming over, head spinning and pussy stretched, walls tightening.

"I'm close" you whisper, riding him with soft-paced movements as his turn sloppy.

You see stars, walls almost kicking his dick out as you coat it in your slick, arousal dripping down until it's coated his balls and smeared the white attire. Fuck. Now Pedro's moving his waist, hunting for his own orgasm.

"Me too" he breathes out, "stay with me"

His hands travel sloppily to your waist, lazily holding you still with his calloused digits.

"Quick, baby" you breath out, "I'm sensitive"

"I'm almost there. Just hold on a little longer" then a whine before shakily pleading. "Please, please, just wait for me"

You move your hips slowly, aroused by his needy pleads, robbing a moan out of him. "Cute" you praise, making his cheeks redden with sweat and blush.

He is cute: hair messed up, mouth red and puffy, and brown puppy eyes.

"I love you so much" Pedro let's out, and it sounds like a confession, despite being married for so long.

"I know, baby, I know" you reach for his face, removing some sweat beads from his forehead, and he leans on the touch, closing his eyes as another gutural growl erupts from his chest. "I love you too"

You keep on riding until you feel his dick twitch inside of your walls.

"We need to stop doing this" you pant out.

"Too late for that, bonita. At least no one found out this time" Pedro laughs. "But you like the talk, don't you? Gonna give 'em something to talk about" he pants, "will fill you up so good you won't be able to walk without my seed spilling from you" sweat beads from your face fall onto his. He obscenely licks the salty drops. "Te voy a dar tantos hijos, que no cabrán en la casa. That way they will know you're mine" (will give you so many kids, they won't fit in the house)

You moan loufly, folds now coated on thick ropes of hot cum, as his movements come to a stop, slowing down until all that can be heard is your uneven breaths trying to recover.

And on cue, there's a knock at the door. Shit. You both remain silent, as if it would stop, but the knocking turns persistent.

"Pedro, I know you're in there"

It's Paul freaking Mescal, again. You might just have to invite him next time if he keeps showing up like that.

"Should I go?" Pedro whispers, and you shrug, stating it would be weirder to pretend he wasn't if Paul knew he was. "How do I look?"

You eye him up and down, eye glistening with dissaproval, red cheeks giving away your thoughts as if the furrowed eyebrows and ashamed gaze didn't already.

"We are fucked"

"No" he giggles, "we just fucked"

"That's not funny!" you roll your eyes, playfully smacking his chest. "Please, look into the mirror and try to fix yourself a bit. If not, we're doomed to be remembered as a horny couple. Oh, we were going so well! Fans will make fun of us and the press will call us horndogs" you lament, exaggerating your voice.

"Oh, shush. We wanted to be able to be in public. This is what it feels like"

You blush. "Maybe we can reduce the public aspect a bit..."

Pedro snorts before doing a quick fix to his appearance, walking to the door where Mescal patiently waits behind. Oh, of course; that little fucker. After the TMZ news dropped, he connected the dots and know that whatever happened in that trailer when Pedro told him to fuck off, wasn't holy at all. Now, he's probably laughing or scheming.

"Paul!" Pedro opens the door. "W-what's up?"

The younger man does a quick scan of his friend, barely able to hide a laugh.

"Looking radiant, my friend" he answers with a shit-eating grin. "They need to do some re-shootings. Have you happen to seen y/n? She just keeps dissappearing when you- oh, when you do!" he mocks. "Well, if you ever happen to find y/n, tell her you both need to get a good fix unless y'all want to show up on TMZ again. I'm pretty sure you can find something in this dressing room to cover those marks, yeah?"

He finally breaks down laughing in front of Pedro's shocked face.

"Ah, you guys are the absolute worst" he folds in a fit of laughter, "so fucking horny you end up fucking in bathrooms and dressing rooms!"

Your voice can be heard from inside as you growl, face red with fury and shame:

"Hijo de puta" (son of a bitch!), "don't make me bring Daisy Edgar-Jones into this!"

l-u-n-a-m: they're just milking their relationship atp for promo but i'm not complaining need more pictures of the photoshoot NOW vnightx: istg if they don't stop flirting in front of my single ass face. i need a gun at0michips: have i gone insane or does pedro have love bites ㅤㅤmybritishstyle: MI HIJO DOES NOT HAVE LOVE BITES. HE JUST FELL DOWN THE STAIRS

*i'm never gonna call twitter as X. it's still twitter, and will always be. fuck that ugly bigot filthy billionaire hoe called elon-trump-cocksucker-musk.

[crushmeeren]

࿐ part one of masked stalker week! touya is first, megumi’s can be found here! ⇢ ⇢ ⇢ ⋆ FEM READER ⋆

࿐ master list link ࿐ kinktober master list link

⋆ ⬪ KINKS INCLUDED ࿐ hints of hunter/prey, stalking, mask kink, breath play, knife play, a mixture of degradation and praise, yandere vibes.

⋆ ⬪ This isn’t quite as long as the others, as I wanted to keep it sweet and to the point without too much world building this time.

⇢ ⇢ touya art by birf ! ⇢ ⇢ @sikuthealien

⇢ ⇢ @with-my-calamitous-love (tagging cuz I thought you might enjoy this)

┊ ༝ ᭝ ༝ short summary ༝ ᭝ ༝ ┊ ‣ ‣ ‣ ‣ Touya’s a regular at the coffee shop you work in. It’s in a seedier part of town, and nobody bats an eye at the villain who stops in every night before close. He never speaks to you after he orders, just shoots you a wink as he leaves. But he’s the least of your worries. There’s someone wearing a ghost face mask who’s been stalking you after every shift. It’s been going a lot longer than you care to admit. Maybe it’s because, in a twisted way, you like it?

⇣ ༝ ⇣ ༝ ⇣ ༝ ⇣

“Busy, doll?”

Your hand jerks violently, the tip of your pen ripping a giant hole in the napkin you were currently doodling ghost face on. You purse your lips, and after swallowing your heart back down into your chest, you lift your head to send a weak glare at the familiar smoky voice piping up from across the counter.

Touya glances at your drawing and the corners of his lips twitch with the ghost of a smug smile.

“I was. Thanks a lot for ruining my picture,” you complain, balling up the tattered napkin and dropping it in the small trash can beside you. You mourn the loss of your masterpiece and rise to your feet with a sigh. “Getting the usual?”

“As always, doll. What, that pretty little empty head of yours forget my order already?” Touya teases, crossing his arms over his chest and looming over the edge of the counter. The scent of burnt firewood smacks you in the face and tickles your nose. You pull backwards instinctively, even if the smell does entice you.

“No,” you protest, nose scrunching as you resist the urge to sneeze, glancing up into bright blue eyes. Touya arches an eyebrow and you spin in the opposite direction before he can notice the soft heat of embarrassment burrowing into the apples of your cheeks.

It’s not your fault the backhanded compliment fills your belly with butterflies. He’s stupid hot, scars and all, sue you for having eyes.

Touya hums as if your petulant no amuses him greatly.

It’s like clockwork. Nearly every evening one of Japan’s most wanted villains shows up half an hour before close and orders a plain black coffee. He never speaks again after you start making it, no matter how hard you try to coax him into conversation. He just responds in noncommittal hums, studying you so intensely that you fidget in place.

Then he pays, shoots you a wink, and leaves through the front door with his hoodie pulled up tight to cover his snowy white hair.

It’s not as if anyone bats an eye that he frequents the place, you have a suspicion that the owner does business with the LOV anyhow. The security cameras are just for show, and you sure as hell won’t rat on him. Screw society, or whatever the LOV stands for.

You secure a lid on the nearly overflowing cheap styrofoam cup. Neatly, you write his name on the side before handing it over, fingers brushing over cool metal as you do, and he grins so widely the staples on his cheeks stretch obscenely. You bite the inside of your bottom lip, fingertips tingling with a pleasant burn even after he’s gone.

Your lungs expand with a steadying breath to reset your nervous system, closing your eyes briefly to focus. When you crack them open and glance at the digital clock on the wall, there’s only twenty minutes left until you can escape the dingy cafe.

That only serves to fill you with dread of an entirely different beast. One that has guilt weighing you down because, if you’re honest, you’re…. excited for what awaits you at the end of your shift.

You see, Touya is the least of your current worries. Yeah, you have a huge crush on him, but he’s never made a move and you’re sure he’s got more pressing matters to deal with.

Shigaraki seems like he’s more than a handful to work for after all.

No, for the past two or three months, as soon as you lock the door and start your treacherous stroll home through the seedy part of town, a man in a ghost face mask follows you the entire way. He never does anything, just simply tails you without a care in the world.

You still have no clue who it is, and at first you were terrified, the jarring sensation of eyes constantly on you making the hair on your arms stick straight up. You were being stalked and hunted like a small rabbit in the woods, and a cold sweat often trickled down your neck. You’d grip the straps of your backpack with trembling fingers and white knuckles.

Then, love letters began appearing in your mailbox at the end of every week. Pages upon pages of your stalker waxing poetic about you, decorated with scratched out sentences and rants demanding that you belong to him, and that he’d tear any man who flirted with you into pieces. They’re always signed with “my heart beats for you”, no name listed, and some hastily drawn hearts.

You’ve started to wonder if you’re sick in the head, because as more letters appeared, the fear faded into infatuation. You started to become just as obsessed with him as he is with you. If you didn’t know better, you’d say that he could tell when your feelings changed, if the increase in letters was anything to go by.

That being said, his secret identity consumes almost every waking thought you have. You’ve been on edge for weeks, and it’s driven you to come up with a plan to push things forward.

You’ve decided to write him his own letter, and soon you’re going to leave it in your mailbox for him to find. You yearn to know who he is, to see what he looks like.

And you really want him to fuck you in the mask.

⇣ ༝ ⇣ ༝ ⇣ ༝ ⇣

The bell above the door jingles as you slam the front door shut. You curse lowly, fiddling with the key that never seems to actually lock the door. You race the biting cold to secure it before your fingers go numb. After the fifth time you hear the signature click as it slides the deadbolt into place and you sigh in relief.

You swing your backpack to the front, digging in the front pocket and pulling out your prepared letter in a white envelope labeled “to my stalker”. With determination, you start walking in the direction of your home, shifting your gaze to peer down the first alleyway past the coffee shop. Your heart rate thunders when you spot a familiar ghost mask barely peaking out above the dumpster.

You make haste, calves burning the faster you push your stride. You breath resembles a dragon’s and the crunch of heavy boots on the concrete sidewalk behind you has your fingertips tingling. Your stalker trails after you at a steady pace, an eerie tune being whistled as he follows. His footsteps never quicken, as if he’s confident he’ll catch up no matter what.

Before you realize it, you’re reaching the end of your driveway, coming to a halt in front of your mailbox. You turn ever so slowly, witnessing the masked man pause in the middle of the street. He tilts his head in curiosity as you raise up the letter so he knows what you’re holding.

Tentatively, you gesture towards the letter, and then you shove a shaky finger his way. He points at himself and you nod once. Then, you make sure he’s watching as you place it in the mailbox and shut the door as fast as you can.

You whirl without second guessing yourself, the scenario reminding you of running up the stairs so a monster doesn’t capture you as you practically sprint into your home and lock the door.

You don’t dare look out the window to check if he’s taken it. You slump against your door, adrenaline still rushing in your veins as you slide to the tiled floor with a squeak. The warm air thaws your limbs as you spiral.

When you inspect the mailbox on your way to work the next day, the letter has vanished.

⇣ ༝ ⇣ ༝ ⇣ ༝ ⇣

It’s late Friday evening, thirty minutes before close, and anticipation is currently wreaking havoc on your mind. You jump each time the door opens. It’s enough to distract you from the fact that Touya hasn’t made his usual appearance tonight.

Granted, it’s not that unusual, he’s not there every single day, so the realization only flits across your thoughts before disappearing.

The divorced dad rock playing softly in the background pauses, a result of the shitty internet connection, and you roll your eyes as you continue to rhythmically wipe off the counter top in relative silence.

The sharp chime of the door startles you, gaze shooting towards whoever has entered, but the spark of hope in your chest deflates when you recognize a different regular sauntering through.

You greet him with a fake smile, going along with the boring small talk as you prepare his drink. He’s kind enough, and he tips decently, so you treat him well. You send him on his way with a genuine smile and return to your closing tasks.

You’re flipping the last chair over, about to settle it on the table top when the door opens once more. Annoyance flares in your chest, and you twist your head to call over your shoulder that you’re closed when your voice gets stuck in your throat.

The wooden legs slip from your fingers like sand, and the chair clatters loudly to the table as you spin towards the door in shock.

There in the doorway, looking terrifying, is your fucking stalker. He’s dressed in all black, ghost face mask secured and black hoodie pulled up, but it’s definitely him.

You weren’t sure he’d show up, mouth opening and closing in shock as you stare aimlessly at him.

“You…you got my letter,” you manage to choke out, heart hammering against your rib cage. He nods once in acknowledgment, casually reaching behind himself to flip the lock on the door. The cold sensation of fear pours into your belly, and you swallow the cotton balls that have taken refuge in your throat as he takes a step closer.

Your feet are cemented to the floor, limbs paralyzed while he stalks towards you, pulling his hood off as he goes. You can’t see his hair and you notice that he’s wearing black leather gloves as well, so that doesn’t give you any sort of clue as to who he is.

You shiver slightly, time seeming to slow when he comes to a stop directly in front of you. Your head tilts in order to properly look up at him.

“You wanted me, right doll?” The deep voice drawls, unearthing something metallic from his waistband that you immediately notice is a knife. Your terror skyrockets, the high of the thrill mixing with it in a strange and intoxicating way. You retreat as far as you can, but it’s only a few inches as your lower back bumps harshly into the edge of the table behind you, jostling the chairs.

“No! I mean, yes, I did, but I just wanted to talk! I’m…interested in you,” You attempt to explain, hands flailing animatedly and voice shaky as you ramble.

The masked man chuckles in amusement, raising the knife and gradually beginning to dig the tip into the underside of your jaw, tilting your head even further back. It pinches, not quite breaking the skin, but the threat looms.

God, you hope this wasn’t a mistake, and that you aren’t so pathetic that you’ve actually let a stalker in here to kill you.

“To talk about what, sweetheart? Your letter said you were interested, but I saw you with your little boyfriend in here earlier, whore,” he spits the last word, knife pushing in a bit further. “Were you lying to me?”

You cry out desperately, the tendons in your neck straining painfully as your eyes grow wide and your brows shoot up to your hairline in confusion.

“No! What? I - I don’t have a boyfriend, I swear!” You plead, voice watery and thick. Your hands fly up to fist the front of his hoodie, rising onto your tip toes so you don’t impale yourself. Your heart rate is erratic, enough so that you’re becoming dizzy.

Panic wells up in your throat, eyes stinging with tears as he stays silent for what seems an eternity. Then, he clicks his tongue behind his teeth, dragging the tip of the knife down the hollow of your throat, and purposely nicks your collarbone before he finally pulls away.

You gasp loudly, breath coming out as a bitten off sob as your hands shoot to your neck to check for any glaring injuries. A few tears flow down your cheeks in relief as you pant harshly, fingertips only slightly red when you pull them back.

“What the fuck!” You screech, glaring intensely at him and flushing hotly to the tips of your ears. “I just wanted to talk to you!”

He shrugs, spinning the knife. “We’re talking, aren’t we doll?”

Your expression pinches as you try to hold in the next sob, sniffling pitifully. All of a sudden his personality switches, emotional whiplash evident as he crowds you in against the table. Your fear spikes once again, hands coming up to his chest in a weak attempt to save yourself.

He slips the knife back into his waistband and harshly cradles your jaw, wiping away the few stray tears with his glove covered thumbs.

“Aw c’mon doll, you’re such a pretty thing, please don’t cry. I just got so furious seeing that other guy in here flirting with what’s mine. You understand, right?” He soothes, mania seeping into his tone. He presses his warm lean body flush with yours and you squeeze your eyes shut. You end up nodding, head fuzzy with the whirlwind of fear and arousal fraying your nerves. “Fucking look at me when I’m speaking to you,” he demands coldly.

You refocus your gaze upon the pitch black eyes of the ghost face mask, lids drooping slightly.

“I told you I wanted you,” you protest. “Not some random regular.”

He’s surely driving you insane, and you’re certain it says nothing good about you that you still want him so badly.

“I know doll,” he coos, hands smoothing down your chest. He grabs your tits and then moves lower to squeeze your hips bruisingly. “And you’re gonna fucking show me.”

The man reaches behind you and shoves the chairs over the sides of the tables, the insanely loud crack of the wood slamming into the floor causes you to smack right into his chest. He hushes you, coaxing you to back up, and then he hefts you up onto the edge of the table by your waist.

“Raise your arms,” he instructs.

You listen, inner elbows touching your ears as he grabs the hem of your shirt and yanks it off. He drops it carelessly to the floor and then gets your bra off just as easily. He lures a soft moan from you when warm leather hands play with your tits, pinching your nipples until they harden. He whispers something you don’t quite catch and then he’s reaching for your waistband.

“Wait!” Your fingers curl around his wrists to halt his movements before he can unbutton your pants. “I don’t even know your name! At least tell me that before you fuck me.”

You’re certain he’s smirking behind that mask.

“Oh? And what will you do if I don’t tell you, hmm? You’re a filthy whore for me, aren’t you doll?”

You blink in shock, the harsh words lighting fire to your blood. You nod jerkily, your hold on his wrists going slack.

“So, are you going to say no?” He taunts, fingers toying with the button on your jeans. When you shake your head he coos at you. “Such a good girl, you listen so well.”

He hooks his fingers into your pants and panties, yanking with enough force that he pulls them out from under you. You gasp, catching your weight with your hands as he slips off one of your sneakers, leaving the remaining material to dangle uselessly around one ankle.

Your pussy seeks for anything to cling to, but tightens desperately around nothing as he pushes your thighs apart to see you better. You look up at him sheepishly when he places his thumbs on the sides of your soft lips and spreads you, moaning appreciatively at what he finds.

One thumb shifts to your clit and he rubs a few slow circles into it, the texture of the leather sending waves of warmth out to your limbs. Your nails scrape the wooden surface as he grips your knees and lifts them until you’re forced to place your heels on the edge of the table to balance.

Your leftover sneaker squeaks when you shift your foot, the vulnerability of being on display for this man making your stomach knot up.

“I want to see you. Please, show me,” you beg, gaze flickering down to see the way his stiff cock strains against his zipper, eager to be freed.

“Yeah? Does my pretty little toy wanna see my face?” He runs a teasing finger along the edge of his mask. “I think,” he muses, pausing a measly few inches from your face. “You just want to see my cock.”

He straightens as soon as the words leave his lips, unzipping his hoodie and shrugging it off his shoulders. He wears a long black sleeve shirt, and he reaches below it to undo his own dark jeans. Soon enough his hard cock is bouncing free and curving up slightly towards his belly.

Your lips part, a storm of pure need rushing through you. A patch of curly white hair at the base of his cock draws your attention, and the small piece of knowledge excites you.

“You have white hair?” You ask in awe, shifting your gaze from the hand loosely stroking his cock to his face, staring so hard you might actually be able to see through the mask. He tilts his head curiously and steps up to the edge of the table.

“So there is a brain rattling around in there,” he teases, tilting his hips up to slide the tip of his leaking cock over your clit. He shifts down to nudge against where you’re entirely exposed. “Sure do, sweetheart. Recognize me yet?”

Your brows scrunch, distracted by the white hot jolt of pleasure, and then your stalker is gripping your throat and cutting off your air as he pushes his cock inside you all the way to the hilt. Your mouth drops open in a silent scream, the stretch burning and so unbelievably perfect that your entire body tingles.

He pulls his hips back until the tip is all your pussy clings to before bullying his cock back inside, the sharp smack of his skin meeting yours pushing a wheeze out of you.

“Feels good, doesn’t it doll?” His voice is scratchy, a breathy moan escaping as you squeeze him. Your head grows heavy as you nod to the best of your ability, spine begging to arch into his thrusts.

He sets a ruthless pace after that, not allowing you a second longer to adjust. His free hand clutches your bent knee and uses it as leverage to throw his weight into his hips.

After what seems like an hour, you start to tap urgently at his wrist, vision swimming as he continues to fuck the very life out of you. He eases his grip and you suck in a lungful of air that has blood rushing in your ears.

Just as the lightheaded sensation starts to fade he applies firm pressure to your throat until your shoulders slam into the table top. He stills his hips as he follows you down, and your legs instinctively lock around his lithe waist. He places his elbows on either side of your head, panting harshly through the cloth mouth of the mask.

When you land the air gets knocked out of your lungs, you gasp out of reflex and the scent of burnt firewoods floods your nose. Something clicks into place in your mind, and with startling clarity, it dawns on you that your masked stalker is Touya.

Touya moves his hips leisurely, curling them so his blunt tip presses firmly against your g-spot. Your hands fly up to fumble with his mask, and Touya doesn’t move to stop you when you push it up and off his head, the plastic clattering to the floor somewhere beside the table.

Familiar searing blue eyes and scarred skin greet you, spiky white hair sealing the deal.

“Touya,” you breathe, and he grins slyly, each of his slow, deliberate thrusts jostling you up the table. His lids are heavy as he peers down at you, and your arms wind around his neck, fingers tangling in his hair.

“Surprised?” He purrs, and you shake your head.

“No, fuck! I’m happy that it’s you,” you manage to get out between choked off moans. The look in his eyes turns wild, a borderline hysterical laugh leaving his lips.

“I own you, isn’t that right doll?” He balances his weight on one elbow and reaches to grab the knife from his waistband. He stabs the wood inches from your head and you yelp, heart skipping a beat as you shy away from the blade. He lets go but allows the knife to remain in place, resuming his previous position.

“Yes!” You reassure him, pussy fluttering involuntarily and Touya grins in self satisfaction, caging in closer until his lips brush over yours when he murmurs.

“Let’s make that pretty little pussy cum on my cock then, yeah? Show me you understand.”

With that, Touya resumes his relentless pace. He keeps you on the edge of a kiss, whispering soft praise until you’re surging up to kiss him as stars burst behind your eyelids.

He groans into the kiss, hips faltering as your pussy suffocates him. Touya drags out your climax for as long as he can hold out before he breaks the kiss and shoves his face into your throat, thrusting shallowly as he cock jerks. He sinks his teeth into your pulse point, sucking and marking you with what’s sure to be a dark purple hickey.

You hug him close, thighs twitching with aftershocks and Touya slips his arms underneath your waist. He gives you no reprieve as he readjusts his grip and hauls you up off the table, forcing you to suck in a sharp breath and wail as he twists and drops into a booth nearby. The intense pressure on your soft cervix makes your stomach ache.

Touya frees you of your sneaker and the remainder of the pants still dangling around your ankle. He roughly smacks your ass and gazes up at you with a catlike grin.

“Ride me like you fucking mean it, doll. I gotta see those tits bounce.”

You come together over and over that night until you’re both exhausted. Before Touya takes his leave, he draws his number on the side of a styrofoam cup and places it on the counter. He’s deadly serious when he tells you that you “better not fucking ignore him,” or he’ll show up here every. single. night.

And truthfully, you want to play with fire and see what happens if you do.

[ki-yomii]

down on you | jjk

➥ pairing | jeon jungkook x f!reader ➥ word count | 4.5k ➥ warning(s) | 🔞 smut; dirty talk, pet names, mild praise kink, squirting, hair pulling, standing missionary, rough sex, porn w/ plot, mafia!jk, detective!reader, established relationship, mild angst, mild violence ➥ summary | It’s true, he owns you: blood, bones, and all. ➥ notes | the mafia!jk au no one asked for aka an excuse to write smut w/ feeling lol.

💚 masterlist | inbox | AO3 💚

On his knees staring down the barrel of a loaded gun with a mouthful of blood, he knows this is the end of the line. He’s going to die like a rat in the gutter - no mercy to be found, loopholes to exploit or bribes to be made.

This is the real deal, and there’s no coming back.

Judgement Day comes in the form of a man with dark eyes and a dangerous smirk: Golden, the deadliest guard dog of the underground.

Credited with dozens of hits, you won’t know he’s there until it’s too late. Trying to keep him pinned is like trying to catch smoke with your bare hands, or a whisper on the wind.

And you won’t know he’s coming until you feel the breath on the back of your neck, hear the crack of a bullet ringing in your ears.

Belonging to one of the most powerful men in the world: Kim Namjoon, he’s more war machine than man.

“Go ahead, do it!” He spits at Golden’s feet, a mess of blood and drool staining the crisp leather of his combat boots. “Killing me won’t change a goddamn thing.”

A coy smile tugs at Golden’s mouth, his grin all sharp teeth and violence. He stays where he stands, his silhouette haloed by distant streetlights.

Water laps at the docks, the tang of salt heavy in the mid-summer Seoul air. There’s no rush; they both know he’ll be dead and dumped just like all the rest of the garbage in this rotting city.

“Come on, you prick! Pull the fucking trigger already.”

Golden cocks his head, and hums in the back of his throat. 

“Tch! I hope you’ve got a lot of bullets - we’re gonna knock the crown off Kim’s head one way or another.”

Golden thumbs at the safety of his gun, the barrel glinting through the shadows. “Ahh, is that what you think?” He shrugs, a lazy ripple of muscle. “Well, I have to say: I’d love to see you try.”

The night is shattered by the resounding crack of a gunshot and an echoing splash of something heavy dropping into the water below.

You climb out of the nondescript government-issue car. The faintest tremble of your fingers nearly gives you away but you’re able to reign in the impulse to smooth your hands over your clothes at the last second.

Showing weakness is the last thing you need to be doing right now.

Especially here.

Right in front of where you’ve parked - shoved between two looming apartment complexes - sits a quaint, vintage building. The rough brick face is at odds with the sleek surroundings, but tinted windows keep prying eyes at bay while the classy signing hanging above the door reads The Red Bullet written in caps.

If you didn’t know better, it would be hard to believe this otherwise mundane storefront is a cover for one of the most dangerous international organizations based out of South Korea.

Not only do they hold the keys to the kingdom, but their success is largely in part because they spearhead operations from government espionage all the way to simple blackmail.

Even though it’s been several months since you darkened its doorstep, the familiar sight is enough to steal the breath from your lungs. Send your heart galloping into a tailspin as your stomach swoops.

While time away helped clear your head of stolen kisses and promises whispered in dark rooms, it also drove the longing bone deep.

In those quiet moments to yourself, when you have nothing else to distract from how lonely you are, you miss this place like one misses a limb.

You didn’t realize how attached you were to these four walls until it was too late: the hazy air filled with whorls of smoke, the overhead lights that bathe everything in red, the plush chairs you spent many nights sprawled across, the glossy black stages.

You don’t know how, you don’t know when but at some point it (he) started feeling like home. A luxury you can’t afford. Not again. After all, if you give in, any progress you made outside of his gravitational pull will be for naught.

Which puts you in a dangerous position as you find yourself back where it began; feelings at war with duty, mind vs heart. Because even if it leads you to a place you could go a million years without ever seeing again, you have to follow the trail of bodies.

A bouncer grants you access, the heavy door slamming shut behind you like a death knell as he herds you towards the back of the club.

It’s outside of official operating hours but it’s no less busy inside, men and women alike in scattered conversation as you pass through.

“It’s nice to see you again,” the bouncer murmurs, chancing a quick glance at your profile. “Been a while.”

You swallow, gaze darting down to your shoes. “Ah - yeah… Got busy with work. It’s - it’s nice to see you too.”

The small talk fizzles out, a snuffed candle as you arrive at a cordoned off room, “Here we are. Mr Kim is already expecting you.”

Any further pleasantries grow stale on your tongue as you enter the private booth, fighting against the lump in your throat to manage a hoarse ‘thank you’.

And then you find yourself left alone with the man himself, Kim Namjoon. He’s as intimidating as you remember, lounging back into the leather booth with his ankles crossed.

A lukewarm smile stretches across his lips, the slightest hint of a dimple peeking out from the valley of his cheek. Standing at attention on either side of his reposing form are two massive bodyguards. Their hands rest on the butts of their guns, daring any who enter to try and make a move.

“It’s good to see you again. But I gotta ask - what’s the occasion, Detective?” Namjoon hums. “I thought we were past all this.” He waves a nebulous hand between your bodies. “After all, you’re practically family.”

You ignore the hidden barb with a wince. “Mr Kim, you know why I’m here.”

“I used to know why a long time ago.” A well-groomed brow raises, his gaze glacial as it spears you in place. “But now I’m not so sure.”

“Please, Mr Kim. I don’t want to make this more difficult than it is. I just need to know about the man they fished out of the harbor, and then I’ll be on my way. So… who was he?”

Namjoon scoffs. “What makes you think I know more than the police?”

There’s a flash of a smirk, barely noticed, before his face returns to its neutral expression. As calm and cool as a placid river. “A john’s a john. What I do want to know is why you care so much?”

The underlying question is clear; why are you really here?

“I’m afraid I’m not at liberty to discuss such matters with civillians.”

“Oh? So I’m a civilian now.” His expression is not unlike the cat that caught the canary: vicious and delighting in the discomfort his evasions are causing. “Gotta say that’s a new one for me.”

Sighing in defeat, you say, “Alright, enough. I get it. I’m wasting my time with you. Let me ask this instead: where is he?” 

“He doesn’t know any more about this than I do,” he says, waving a blase hand towards a door off to the left, “But if you insist, you can find him in the office. Oh, and Detective?”

“...Yes?”

“Take your time, I’ll be out on business all afternoon.”

With a curt nod, you flee the room amid low-throated chuckles and enter the office. Standing near the desk, his broad back turned towards the door, you find the man you simultaneously want to see the most and run from the fastest.

He turns around, the muscles of his back rippling with the movement. Your breath stutters in your chest, and you nearly swallow your tongue as your eyes trace over the cut of his body.

The moment your eyes meet, those many months spent cultivating time and distance turn to ash. You forgot how even the mere sight of him affects you, any resistance to his many charms virtually nonexistent as the world falls away.

Rich, coffee dark; his gaze sucks you in until it’s all you can do not to reach out, to brush your fingers over his edges and feel them soften beneath your palms.

Rocking back on your heels, you clear your throat and glance to the side as you remain standing in the entryway, more than a little off-kilter.

Coming back after so long apart, only to find him the same as the day you left… How do you reconcile everything that’s changed with everything that was?

“Well, hello there.” Jungkook croons, leaning his hip against the corner of the desk with a roll of his shoulders. His arms cross over the trunk of his chest, accentuating the bulk of his chest, the flex of inked bicep. “Long time no see.”

Shifting, you gulp. “Ah - yeah…”

The burn of his gaze - a palpable sensation prickling across your skin - tracks a path from the crown of your head to the tips of your toes as he gives you a thorough once-over.

“You’re looking good,” Jungkook hums in approval, “real good. I’ve missed those pretty eyes of yours.”

“You - you too.”

Your attention doesn’t know where to settle: drifting from the curve of his shoulders to the jut of his bloody knuckles, the tuck of his trim hips to the thick-soled combat boots.

Tiny hairs at the back of your neck stand on end, and your palms slick with sweat.

“I mean, you look… y’know, uh, good too.”

A flash of a crooked smirk, the raising of a pierced brow gets your blood pumping, your heart tattooing a rhythm against your ribs. Emboldens you to reach back with shaky fingers to turn the lock. The sound grates down your spine, bolts of anticipation slicing through you.

It was dumb to think coming here, seeing him again, would end any other way than his taste on your tongue and his cock in your cunt. Hope makes fools of us all.

Should’ve known better but you’d been hopeful those days were long behind you. Now you realize it was inevitable.

After all, Jungkook is magnetic.

The black hole at the center of your universe, consuming everything in its path until he’s what remains in your head, your heart. You’re helpless, ceaselessly drawn to him like a moth to flame.

And try as you might, you can’t say no to a face like that.

Never could, in fact.

Failure to extract yourself from his orbit during your not-relationship is nothing new. That doesn’t mean you can’t make it difficult.

After all, you still have some dignity intact.

So try, try, try again.

“Ahem.” You try to banish the heat from your cheeks, guiding the conversation into the correct territory. “I’m not here on a-a social call, Jeon. I need to know: were you the one that killed and dumped the john in the harbor?”

Stalking closer, a lazy jungle cat on the prowl, Jungkook crosses the distance between you. He only stops once your bodies brush with every labored inhale. Heat radiates from him, and you’re achingly aware of every point of contact.

The light scent of his cologne teases your nose, and his eyes - god, his eyes. They’re shaded and hungry, devouring your expression with single-minded possessiveness. 

“What makes you think I know anything about that?”

“Jeon -- Jungkook.”

He hums.

Your heart thrums, pulse rushing hard through your head until you feel faint, blood surging the longer you stay in close contact. The shameful clench of your cunt makes your cheeks burn all the brighter.

The last time you were looking up at him like this, his hand was on your jaw while his cock thrust balls deep.

“C’mon, you know that isn’t going to work. This is me you’re talking to, not some rookie.”

“Mm,” he purrs, “it is you I’m talking to, isn’t it?”

You manage to bite back the groan but can’t stop your eyes from rolling even if there’s the slightest hint of a stutter when you reply, “Please, I just need to know if you killed him.”

Jungkook looms tall and proud, crowding closer. “And if I did, baby?” he asks.

Instinctively you back up, only to be followed step by step. A game of cat and mouse that finds you pinned against the wall before long. With nowhere to run, you watch, heart in your throat, as Jungkook dips his dark head.

His nose runs along the length of your neck, breath puffing across your sensitive skin as he inhales the pleasant scent of your perfume.

“I - I…”

“Would you see me in handcuffs?” His lips caress the underside of your jaw, a soft groan escaping him. “… C’mon, answer me. Would you?”

“I would - if I had to.”

As much as you wish that was true, you know in your heart of heart's you would do everything in your power to make sure that never happens.

No matter how much you like to think you’d do the right thing when push comes to shove, you’d choose him a thousand times over.

His eyes dance playfully. “Careful, I might like it.”

“I can’t say I’m surprised,” you say with a snort.

Jungkook chuckles low and warm, using the arm around your waist to tug you into the safety of his body. The softness of your breasts presses into the hard planes of his chest, your nipples pebbling through the thin cotton shirt you wear.

With a deep-throated groan, his hands encircle the curves of your hips as a thickly muscled thigh slots between yours.

An answering quiet sigh gets his blood pumping and his cock twitching.

“Mm, something tells me you’d enjoy it just as much, Detective.”

The use of your title is a rude awakening.

“Jungkook,” You warn, moving to push him away. Only once you start touching him, you can’t stop. His muscles flex beneath your curious fingertips. “We really shouldn’t.”

You’re sure if he could, Jungkook would spend days worshipping between your thighs, velvet heat wrapped around his tongue and hands in his hair as he brings you to peak again and again until you’re a sobbing, sopping, boneless mess beneath him.

“Come on, I know you want me - that you’ve missed me. I can see it in your eyes.”

He kisses the corner of your mouth, tongue flickering out for a brief taste before a rough thumb skates across your bottom lip, tugging down to expose your teeth, the glitter of your tongue as it darts out to flick over the pad of his finger..

“I’ve certainly missed you, baby. Want me to show you?”

Even though you refuse to admit anything out loud, you can’t help but angle your throat back and grind into his hips pressed against yours.

Jungkook tsks, “That’s alright. I’ll get that pretty mouth open one way or another.”

Before you can retort, a mouth swoops down to fuse with yours in a fierce, all-consuming kiss. A low, broken moan punches from your chest.

Reaching up, your fingers sink into the mane of dark hair that brushes the cut of Jungkook’s jaw. Soft, thick, and wavy in your grip; you tug at the roots.

Jungkook hisses. 

Teeth nip at your lip, kittenish licks soothing away the string as blood bursts across your tongues. The thigh shoved between yours grinds up with every wet, sloppy pass of your lips.

Thick muscle spreads your pussy open through the thin slacks of your work uniform. Sparks of pleasure dance down your spine with every rock against your swollen clit.

“S-Shit!” Your shoulders curl in, a shudder jerking through you. “K-Kook, I… !”

“Fuck, you’re so wet for me.” Jungkook growls, rutting his cock against the jut of your hip. The wet patch you’re making on his jeans grows larger with every filthy grind. “You’ve been gone too fucking long. Never again, you hear me?”

You claw at his shoulders, stuttering out, “there’s noth-ing you can do t’stop me.”

“If you don’t come back to me,” his eyes are dark and stormy, voice whiskey rough, “I’ll find you.”

It’s not a threat - it’s a promise.

“Then make sure I never want to leave,” you challenge breathlessly, staring into his blown out pupils, “Make me want to stay.”

Above all else, you think.

The words are barely past your lips when Jungkook accepts your challenge with gusto (just like you knew he would). Without delay, he thumbs open the button on your pants.

Refusing to let you look away, Jungkook yanks them to your feet and swings you up into his arms one-handed. They hang from your ankle like a chain.

Your surprised squeak is quickly swallowed up by a moan when he settles you over the bulge in his pants, your cunt hovering over his erection.

The heat of his skin sinks through the thin cotton of your panties, so, so close to where you need him. Slick soaks into the fabric, and clings to your inner thighs.

Every shift is a smooth, sticky glide of folds that stirs, and stokes the ember of desire smoldering behind your navel.

“Kook,” you breathe. “Please.”

Your head rolls back, and you sag into his chest. Your hips twitch in pathetic little attempts, trying to get pressure where you need it. Having him hot and hard and all for you; any distance between you is suddenly unbearable.

He needs to spread you wide and stuff you full with every inch of his thick cock until he’s so deep you won’t be able to walk for days.

“Shh baby, I’ll give you what you want,” he says, gaze heavy and possessive. “I’m gonna ruin you so good, you’ll have no choice but to come back. You’re mine.”

“Says who?”

“Hmm. You don’t think you are?”

Nibbling on your ear, Jungkook slips a finger under the hem of your panties. He smirks when you keen, rubbing his knuckle up and down your sloppy folds with teasing pressure.

“How about I show you what your body already knows?”

Wasting no time, he lifts you off his cock, the scrap of cloth fluttering to the ground. His free hand dives between your bodies. Then comes the clink of a belt, the sound of a zipper pulling down.

Your heartbeat thunders in your ears, your body coiled with anticipation as your stomach swoops at the brush of his fingers along the underside of your thigh.

“Look so pretty like this, baby.” Jungkook twists his wrist, hips arching back. “And it’s all for me. Fuck, I can’t wait to get inside this pretty pussy.”

Any response dies on your tongue, brain short-circuiting as the slick, fat cockhead rubs along your slit. Pressing against your entrance the slightest bit before slipping up to nudge at your clit - coating himself up in your sticky juices.

The ultimate tease - something Jungkook’s always been overly fond of doing until you’re out of your mind with desperation.

“Please, please, please,” you chant, cheeks on fire and eyes half-lidded as you circle your hips. “Stop playing around. I want it - want you, Kook.”

“Oh, baby,” he smiles, ducking down to kiss your forehead. “You’ll take whatever I give you.”

You can’t stifle the broken sob, tears prickling at the corners of your eyes. Liquid fire surges through your veins, a thousand bolts of lightening crackling beneath the surface of your skin. Your pussy is tender, swollen. Walls fluttering in time with your heartbeat. 

“Ha, you’re so needy for me.”

Jungkook’s lips brush away the moisture around your eyes, his thumb drawing soothing circles into the base of your spine. All the while, his torturous grinding never ceases.

“Aren’t you?”

You croak, “I can’t – Kook, please. Anything, I’ll do anything you want just fuck me.”

The flash of his eyes is your only warning before he’s right there, your walls embracing the girth of his erection inch by inch. Every ridge, every jerk as he seats himself as deep inside your silken heat as he can is absolute heaven.

The stretch as you take him to the hilt sends you careening towards the edge, eyes rolling back and toes curling in your shoes.

“Shit, shit, shit, shit!” you whimper.

“Shit!” Jungkook grits his teeth, squeezing the base of his cock as you tighten  around him. With every deep inhale, his pelvis brushes your swollen, needy clit. “Forgot how good you feel wrapped around my dick, baby.”

“Me too,” You gasp, tightening your legs around Jungkook’s hips.”Me too, Kook.”

Dropping his forehead to yours, he says gruffly, “‘m not gonna last long.”

Making a noise of acknowledgement, you wiggle your hips. Sinking your teeth into the side of Jungkook’s jaw, you bite and suck at his skin, wanting to leave a mark to remember you by. His reaction is instantaneous, releasing the grip on his shaft to grab a fist full of hair.

He yanks back.

The long, elegant line of your throat is exposed to his butterfly kisses and scolding love bites.

“Now you’ve really asked for it,” Jungkook huffs out with a dirty chuckle.

“Then give it to me.” You lick your puffy lips, looking up at him from beneath your lashes. “Show me who I belong to.”  

The brewing hurricane in his eyes is unleashed. Wide palms and strong fingers grip your hips so tight you feel bones grind together. His stance widens, his unwavering gaze locking onto your face, brow pinched, and mouth slack.

His lip piercing glints in the light, his tongue sliding out to wet his bottom lip. Dark curls tussle about his head, a wild halo that sweeps down into the burning umber of his eyes.

Helpless, you succumb - enchanted by the darkness peering at you from behind those dangerous eyes. He’s ethereal; a siren song that threatens to drown you, swallow you whole.

You’d happily let him, you realize with a shiver.

It’s true, he owns you: blood, bones, and all.

“Hold on tight,” Jungkook says, hooking his hands under your bottom. 

And then, he’s jackhammering into your cunt so hard and fast all you can do is hold on for the ride. Punch drunk and moaning as he manhandles you how he likes, spreads you wide and stuffs you full until you’re panting for breath and clinging to sanity by your fingernails.

“Fuck yes, that’s it. Look how well your pretty pussy always takes my fat cock.”

His low voice whispering filthy praises in your ear makes you whimper, whine, and writhe as the band of pleasure coiling tight in your belly comes close to snapping. It’s the fastest he’s ever fucked an orgasm out of you, and it feels so good you don’t even care.

The pace is brutal, slamming into you so hard you’re sure you’ll have bruises on your hips come morning. But it’ll be so fucking worth it. You’re going to cum hard and long, you just know it.

About to melt as Jungkook fucks the slick out of you, groaning as you drip down the base of his cock, his balls - his very own pretty little mess.

“Yeah, you gonna cum, baby?” he laughs, pressing a sweaty kiss to the side of your face. “Can feel how - haaah shit - how tight you’re squeezing me.”

“Uh-huh,” you cry, holding onto the tops of his wide shoulders. Every thrust has his cockhead dragging over the spongy patch of your g-spot, sending fissions of pleasure rocketing through your nervous system. “So - so close, baby. Just a little more, I--”

Balancing yourself, you lift up only to slam back down, meeting Jungkook’s thrust with all the force of gravity. “Oh fuck, oh fuck!”

Crashing over you like a tsunami, your orgasm shoots through your limbs and zips down your spine. A warm rush of cum soaks Jungkook’s shaft, the wet and messy sound of your squirt splashing against the floor secondary to the cry that claws its way out of your throat.

“K-Kook!”

Jungkook grunts, his fingers digging into the fat of your hips as he helps you keep bouncing up and down on his erection. “Yeah, that’s it - keep going, baby. Wanna feel you keep cumming all over this cock.”

Aftershocks slice through you like lightning, tiny jolts of electricity. As you come down from your high, your gummy walls pulse, milking at Jungkook’s thick shaft.

He groans softly whenever your muscles tense, release; your body a worn-out rubber band as your breath stutters from you.

Then a hand pets down your flank, your skin shivering with hypersensitivity at the tender touch. “S’okay. Just breathe, baby.”

Peeling open your heavy eyes, you look up at his face. Take in the crinkle of his brow and the ravenous expression. Even floating on a sea of bliss, white noise fills your ears, you want more.

You slur, determined, “Kook, baby, please. Cum in me, want you s’bad.”

“Fuck! Can’t just say shit like that to me or I…” Jungkook bites down onto the tender crook of your neck, muffling his grunts in your flesh. “Shit - ’m so --”

You cry out, nails digging into the meat of his shoulders, “A-haah, K-Kook!”

Snapping his hips forward one last time, Jungkook grinds as deep as he can get and lets go. The fat head of his cock kisses your cervix, his length throbbing in time with his heartbeat as a rush of cum floods your insides.

“Yeah, just like that,” he grunts, rutting once - twice into the cradle of your body, “take it like a good girl.”

He croons when you whine at the press of his pelvis against your oversensitive clit. Thready sparks of pain shoot down your legs that hang limply over his forearms. Every breath stutters from your lungs, slow and deep.

“No more, can’t - can’t…” Shifting, you arch your spine and burrow your head into his chest, nearly catatonic in his arms. “S’too much.”

“Shh, it’s okay. I’ve got you.” Fingers brush over your closed eyelids, smoothing over the arch of your brow. With every kiss dropped to the top of your head, he mumbles in dulcet tones, “I really have missed you, you know.”

You mewl in response as strong fingers knead the backs of your thighs.

“You’re not allowed to go anywhere.”

“Oh,” you can’t muster up enough energy to say anything more, body tender and trembling with little aftershocks, “s’that right?”

“Yeah, that’s right.” He chuckles. “You’re staying here - right where I want you.”

In lieu of a response, you pick your head up off the pillow of his chest and seek out his gaze. Liquid soft; he’s looking at you like you hung the world on a string.

“I’ve missed you too, Kook,” you say with a gentle smile.

You’ll allow yourself this moment of weakness when there’s no space between your bodies or hearts. Titles don’t matter much when he’s cradling you to his chest like a piece of precious china.

Between the two of us, you’re the one who hung the moon and stars, you think while combing back his sweaty bangs.

And I think I love you, you whisper voiceless against his lips.

[bunny-jpeg]

hey!! can i please order a blueberry muffin with an espresso shot and maybe a vodka shot on the side, served by danny ricc? thanks!! x

bakery menu

want to submit your own order? then check out the menu! there is something for everyone and i love getting new orders! i am currently hard at work trying to get through all the current ones! as for this one, i have gotten a few for ricciardo and i've been looking to write him more so thank you for your order!

blueberry muffin ("i don't think it'll fit.") + espresso shot (dirty talking) + vodka shot (rough sex) served by daniel ricciardo (formula one)!

cw: smut/pwp, size difference/kink, dirty talking, sleepy but rough sex, desperate!daniel

the summer break felt good. you were exhausted, so you could only imagine what your boyfriend of the last few years was feeling. the back to backs was wearing him down so it was nice just to be sprawled out in his apartment in monaco.

daniel's strong arm draped over you as you stayed snuggled up next to him. the sun shined through the large window and you two stayed tangled up in one another.

you opened your eyes a little at the feeling of the sun against your face. you then sighed and rolled over to face your lover. soft kisses on his cheeks slowly woke him up.

"happy saturday, my love." you said.

he smiled a little, "happy saturday, first saturday we've had together in a while." if he wasn't racing then he was practicing for racing or traveling. there had been very few moments since the season started where you two simply existed in each other's presence.

it was comforting, it felt like home.

he went in for a kiss on the lips purely by instinct, he sighed contently when your lips pressed against his. he kept those arms wrapped around you tightly as you both laid in bed.

he kissed at your face more and you melted into his touch. your eyes went wide for a moment as he put you on your back and looked down at you. you could see the tinge of pink across his cheeks and he chuckled a little. "still look as beautiful as ever. even with bed head." he rubbed his morning hard on against your front.

you made a small noise and felt a curl of pleasure in your gut. you looked up at your lover and smiled, "i mean you're alright. the morning breath is a bit much." then laughed when daniel started to tickle you.

"i want to make up for all the times we were apart. with you at work and me on the track." he knew very well that he made enough that you would never have to work again, but you were determined to be a productive member of society. but, sometimes he wished he could take you away to the track and have his good luck charm there all the time.

you reached up for him and started to take his t-shirt off. the sight of his bare chest made something grow warm inside of you. it was like every time you saw him, even with the nicks and bruises from racing. he was still so painfully hot.

you got your head up on the pillows and got off your sleeping shorts. it had been so hot in the city that you two were basically sleeping in your underwear most nights.

he got his own shorts off and rubbed his underwear clad cock up against your stomach, pre-cum staining the front of his briefs. he groaned, "were you always this beautiful, i mean, you always were beautiful. but there's something about you right now that is just getting me so turned on."

you chuckled, "i think you're just half asleep, my dear. how about once i tame the rat's nest of my hair.

"nah, nah." he leaned in closer, and worked to get his cock out of his underwear, "i like the rat's nest. my sleepy baby wanting to get fucked out." he planted a kiss on your cheek, "i don't think it'll fit. i think my girl's cunt is too small."

you whined, "c'mon, danny." you rolled your hips and little to entice him. and it made the blood all rush to daniel's cock, you noticed it and looked up at him with such a sweet expression, "if you don't fuck me, no one else will. because i only want you, so it's not fair if you don't fuck me."

daniel felt a pain in his chest and his cock bob. he swallowed and said, "that's what i like to hear, babe." he stroked his cock a little bit and eyed your naked form. stripped of all clothes now, and so beautiful.

he grabbed you by the waist and rubbed his exposed cock up against your wet slit. there was something about having sex so early in the morning, with nothing else on the schedule. just the two of you.

he groaned a little bit, "this is all mine." daniel's dirty talk was something else. as he rubbed up against you, his tongue went wild, "so pretty under me, letting me fuck you so early in the morning. you're such a good girl for me. you are meant for me, and only me."

you felt the pleasure pump through your body. you grit your teeth for a moment as you felt him slip his cock into you. despite his initial remark, it did fit.

he moved against you slowly, he found his heartbeat in his ears as he rocked against you. he could feel the heat of pleasure in his head as he moved against you. you were just so painfully good under him.

his bulkier frame crowded your space, it made you feel small against him. he loved the feeling however, you were so sweet under him. painfully adorable in a way that he couldn't fully put into words. all he knew was that he wanted you, he yearned for you so badly that he didn't know what else he could besides bury his cock into you with a quickened pace.

he had you pressed further into the bed as he held you by the hips. he groaned, those big hands on your soft skin, moving you to his liking as his cock bullied against your sweet, slick pussy.

"i love you." he said as he swallowed back his pleasure.

you looked up at him, your eyes a little hooded from the sleep and pleasure. your cheeks felt hot as you said, "i love you too, please, danny. i need you."

he chuckled, "don't worry, babe. you got me, you got me until the day we die. you're my forever." he kissed at your face, feeling the heat pool in his gut as he moved against you.

the feeling between you two was hot as the two of you fucked in the morning light. you whimpered a little and felt the pleasure in your brain.

his strokes were rough as he fucked you on the bed. you held onto the covers tightly as he pushed his cock as far it could reach. and even that was deep enough for you. he leaned in to kiss you passionately as he thrusted his cock in and out of you.

his strokes were rough and they made you see stars. he loved when he bullied his cock into your pussy. the sight of you was beautiful when he pleasured you. he tensed his jaw for a moment before he said, "you're so painfully hot, babe. look at you, all needy under me."

you whimpered, "please, danny."

he chuckled, "i've got you, babe. fuck, you feel so good under me. right where you belong."

his words made you flushed as he continued to move. you felt the heat of orgasm through your system.

"fuckin' hell, danny!" you whined as you arched your back a little.

he picked up the pace and watched your grip onto the covers under your back. he admired the sight of your nude body under him. every curve, mole and mark was just beautiful to him. it made the blood thump in his ears as he kept his cock buried in you.

he swallowed and felt a shiver run through his body as he continued to thrust up against you. it was music to your ears, when you let out a sweet moan as you climaxed. his kept his gaze on him as he panted wildly.

"so beautiful."

"i love you." you panted.

he chuckled, "i love you too." then quickened his pace to meet his own orgasm. his cock buried as deep as it would go as he fucked you into the bed you shared. his pace was rougher, and his tongue felt looser as he said, "i only want ya, no one else can have you while i'm still alive. you're my girl, my one and only. from those pretty eyes to your prettier cunt. the way it takes me so well." he gasped before he came inside of your sweet slick pussy.

he slowed down his pace to a stop and kept his cock inside of you. he was still pretty hard, his heart was thumping heavily in his chest. he rubbed the sleep out of his eyes, that was one way to wake up.

you laid there, blissed out under him. he licked his lips at the sight of you and felt his cock twitch inside of you. he smiled down at you before he laid you on your side to get comfortable back into bed.

he slotted himself behind you and spread your legs. he sank his cock in once more from behind. not to rut against you, but to just hold you. to be comfortable next to you. he wanted to feel close to his woman, his beautiful light in his life.

while you both laid in bed, so intimately close, the sun shined down on both of you. you two were perfect for one another. <3

[naughtyneganjdm]

Man for Hire - Chapter 2

Summary: The rest of the night continues after losing your virginity to Negan with the time you still have with him. (PART 1)

Characters: Negan & the reader (OC, second person)

AO3 Link: https://archiveofourown.org/works/55642924/chapters/145590163

Warnings: 18+, Swearing, Smut, Daddy Kink, Unprotected P in V, Oral, No Use of Y/N, breeding kink, dirty talk, etc.

Notes: I decided to write a part two to this just because my brain felt like there needed to be more. I hope you enjoy! (gif credit: @jdmorganz)

It was amazing how good you felt. There was an ache that lingered inside of you, but you expected so much worse. After seeing how big Negan actually was beneath the belt, you thought by his size that you were going to hurt so much more than you actually did. You felt like you got lucky with the decision that you made. Negan knew how to take care of you and he did it well. You were surprised with how easily he could calm you. Even now, you were at a relaxed state with the sounds of his heavy breaths at the back of your neck. Having his arm laid across your waist almost in a dominant, possessive grasp didn’t make you feel like you were having a one-night stand with a stranger. It made you feel like you belonged to him and that you were his. Maybe it should have bothered you, but it didn’t.

Looking over your shoulder, you let out a long exhale knowing that you were feeling things for this man that you shouldn’t have. Hell, you barely knew him, but you felt like you were hooked on him and that was probably a bad thing. With him sleeping comfortably behind you, you knew that you could get used to this whole thing. And that worried you.

Shifting underneath Negan’s arm, you went to get up hearing his breathing change as you pulled yourself to the edge of the bed, “Where are you going?”

“I have too much energy to sleep,” you explained, looking back over your shoulder in time to see him rolling onto his back to rub at his eyes. The sheet pulled at his hips lowering just enough for you to see the base of his cock where the dark curls of hair surrounded his body that you had gotten used to today. Even though that website you looked at was filled with men that had the bodies of gym rats, you were more drawn to a body like Negan’s. Slender with a small patch of soft flesh beneath his bellybutton. His Adonis belt was more than enough to kickstart your heart in your chest again when you reached out to sweep your fingers over the lines at his hips. It made him faintly smile, his hand lowering down to caress his fingers in over your pulse point. Even tired, his dimples drew attention to that certain charm that he carried.

“I’ll order something from room service for us,” you offered and he gave you a firm nod. “I didn’t really eat today.”

“Sounds good,” he gave you a wink and you could tell that he was trying to wake himself up. Bringing your wrist up, he placed a delicate kiss over the inside of your wrist. It had your breath catching in your throat and you knew that he was aware of what he was doing to you.

Pulling yourself up from the bed after he released your wrist, you headed toward the bathroom to grab one of the robes that they had hanging there. Pulling it on, you walked into the sitting area hearing the sound of movement behind you. Looking over your shoulder, you felt a breath catch in your throat at the sight of him. He had gotten up from the bed and was stretching out his long, slender body. Tipping his head back had the corner of his jaw flexing and there was a slight curve to his back with the way he stretched out his arms. Yawning, he brought his fingers up to stroke them through his now messy hair. Watching him had you smiling involuntarily. Everything about him was breathtaking. There he was standing naked at the middle of your hotel room and you couldn’t believe that was the man you lost your virginity to. He was such a beautiful specimen of a man and you felt like you lucked out.

“You’re staring,” his raspy voice finally pulled your attention away from nearly gawking at him. Your heart skipped a beat, but he seemed to be enamored with the way you were looking at him. A smirk tugged at his lips and he gave you a wink. “I’ll be back.”

Giving him his space, you watched long enough to see him get into the bathroom before going back to order something for the two of you to eat and drink.

“How are you feeling?” Negan’s voice surprised you as he moved into the room with you, pulling together the tie of the robe that he had grabbed for himself to wear. You were almost charmed with the smile that was over his face when he stared down at you. Sliding to the middle of the couch, you gave him room to sit and he dropped down beside you. Wiggling his fingers, he urged you toward him and you did it without question. Bracing his back against the arm of the couch, Negan helped you sit in his lap with both of your legs stretched out on the couch while he wrapped you up in his arms from behind. Nuzzling his nose against the side of your neck, Negan hummed when your fingers hooked with his.

“Better now that I’m in your arms,” you muttered with him snickering against your flesh. It was a ridiculous line, but it was truthful. Together the two of you were facing the large glass panel of the windows in the hotel suite and the lights from the city were still bright drawing your attention.

“Well my arms like having you in them,” Negan nipped at your jawline with a slur. The simple motion drew chills down your spine. You didn’t mean to, but the exhale that you released obviously showed that you were upset hearing that. “What’s wrong?”

“I know you don’t mean that,” you pointed out, sweeping your fingers over the back of his hand when he squeezed you in closer to him. “You are so good at your job, it almost feels real.”

“What about tonight hasn’t been real?” Negan inquired, the warmth of his breath sending chills throughout your body with how close he was to you. It was what you wanted to hear, but you also knew he should have been honest with you. “The two of us shared a very intimate moment together with you having sex for the first time. I very much enjoyed it. And I do like spending time with you. No bullshitting.”

“You don’t know me and I know nothing about you,” you reminded him, tipping your head back finding yourself in awe with the way his long eyelashes fluttered with him looking at you. “Other than the fact you are super charming and incredibly hot.”  

“I think you and I know more about each other than you think,” Negan grumbled under his breath and you rolled your eyes. “The two of us have connected in a way you never have with anyone else. I think that’s a pretty big deal.”

“You know what I mean,” you suggested, tipping your head back enough to notice the amusement in his eyes when he stared down at you.

“Some people you don’t have to know completely to connect with them. Sometimes you just fucking click,” Negan responded which made you smirk. You would have loved for that to have been the case.

“You’re still being paid to be here,” you frowned letting out a tight breath when he started pressing tiny kisses over your jawline. “I have to remind myself of that.”

“Sometimes with my job it helps introduce me to people that I may have never been able to meet. There are those rare cases where you meet someone that you appreciate having a moment with and you’re one of those people for me,” he informed you and you were still unsure with his response. “I don’t think you realize, I’ve put a lot of faith and comfort into this whole thing with you.”

“How so?” you wondered, getting more comfortable in his arms realizing just how at ease you actually were.

“I told you I don’t have unprotected sex with people. It was kind of a big deal. I had to put my trust in you, just like you did me,” Negan explained, peppering faint kisses over your jawline. “Fuck. That’s intimate as hell. I don’t care how much people beg or offer me extra money. I’m not gonna do that. But I did it with you. That alone makes us have a bond.”

“You’re good,” you hummed enjoying the kisses that he was pampering you with over your jawline. It had you turning your head slightly so he could bring your lips together for another kiss that drew chills down your spine. When he pulled away, it took your breath away when he nudged your nose with his in almost an affectionate moment.

“What do you wanna know about me? I’ll be honest with you about everything. Anything you wanna know.”

Turning in his arms, you braced yourself over his waist and Negan tipped his head back to rest it against the arm of the couch. His hands caressed up over your hips toward your lower back in a soothing motion. The top of the robe that he was wearing parted revealing a large part of his chest and the dark curls of hair that were there. Loosely hooking your arms around his shoulders, your eyes narrowed and you tried to think of something to say.

“Are you dating someone?” you wondered, a smirk tugging at Negan’s lips when he lowered his stare. “That’s a yes.”

“That’s a no,” Negan corrected you, his head tipping to the side when he returned his gaze to yours. His Adam’s apple bounced in his throat when he gave a simple shrug of his shoulders. “I’m not dating anyone.”

“Are you married?” you questioned with Negan’s eyebrows arching up, drawing a sigh from deep within him. Hooking your fingers loosely around the necklace that he wore around his neck drew his eyes to the rings that were over his chest. “I kind of picked up on it when you first fell asleep.”

“I’m not married,” Negan shook his head. Your face twisted with disbelief and he sighed loudly. “I’m a widower. My wife died a few years ago.”

“Oh, I’m sorry,” you immediately apologized feeling like an asshole, your face flushing over with a warmth. You went to apologize, but Negan’s fingertips covered your lips and he shook his head. When he finally lowered his fingers, he swept his thumb in over your shoulder and you frowned. “That was rude of me.”

“You didn’t know,” Negan refused to let you feel bad about the whole thing. “Don’t worry about it.”

“What happened?” you knew that it was none of your business, but you reached out to stroke over the side of Negan’s face. There was definitely a change to his features once he brought up his late wife and you felt guilty for assuming.

“Cancer,” Negan’s answer was short with his eyes coming to a tight close, leaning into your touch like he cherished it.

“Was this your job when you were with her?” your curiosity had him laughing out, his dimples becoming more prominent when he gave you a shake of his head.

“She was gone a few years before I started this,” Negan answered you with a bit of amusement in his features. “She would have never been okay with me doing this when she was around. And rightfully so. You see…before all this,” Negan paused as if to consider what he was telling you. “I was a gym teacher.”

“Come on,” you chuckled with him nodding his head. “You were a gym teacher.”

“I was Coach Negan,” he almost seemed proud as he continued to tell you about his past. “But I have a temper and I ended up losing my job. I beat the hell out of one of the student’s fathers at a bar one day after he called my wife some very distasteful names. It makes me feel bad because we lived really poorly when my wife was alive. When she died, she had a lot of life insurance plans that I didn’t know about and I ended up inheriting a lump sum of money that she deserved to experience while she was alive.”

“So you don’t need this job then,” you concluded, your eyebrow raising in curiosity.

“No,” Negan confessed with a tip of his head. “I also enjoy the companionship because I was lonely. Plus, I’m good at this. So…”

“Do you have to sleep with everyone?” you pushed, sliding your hands down over his chest, playing with the dark hair that covered it.

“Technically, I’m an escort. Legally, all my job requires of me is giving people companionship. The only way I end up having sex with someone is if we both mutually agree to it,” the tone of his voice changed seeing the way that you smirked and he shrugged his shoulders. “I don’t have to sleep with people if I don’t want to. As long as I give them what they paid for, then I’m fine. Your situation was a bit different than what I’m used to. I think Michonne made an exception for you. My dates vary. There is the romantic dates where people are allowed to touch me, usually those kind of dates people expect something more if I’m comfortable. There are people who just want me to go to special events with them. Some people just want someone to give them company while they are in town. It really depends.”

“So you’ve turned away people with sex?” you inquired hearing him snicker. “I’m sorry for all the questions, I’m just curious. I know you’re what I assume is a high-end escort so you never know with the things that you hear.”

“I think people hear escort and think certain things naturally. I’m allowed to turn sex down. There is no promise of it when I show up,” Negan explained to you, his fingertips caressing up and over the planes of your back toward your neck. “I haven’t had too many crazy experiences though thank God.”

“Too many?” you teased him and he bit at his bottom lip. Leaning in, you pressed a kiss at the side of his neck where the visible vein was. “Let me guess. People get addicted to you. They get jealous. And they stalked you.”

“Something like that,” Negan grunted, tipping his head to the side so you had better access to kiss down over the side of his neck. “Not many people with the name Negan, you know?”

Nodding your head, you continued your kisses over his collarbone pushing the robe that was there aside. Noticing the freckles on his shoulder made you smile when you started peppering feather like kisses over his flesh.

“I’m lucky though because Michonne’s husband is a cop,” Negan explained with his fingers squeezing tighter at your body. Your kisses were doing something to him because his breathing started to grow broken. “He helped me take care of some things. Life is strange.”

Giving a nod, you didn’t want to pry too much since you thought you already overstepped your boundaries with the information about his wife.

“What about you?” Negan breathed, his palms lowering down to squeeze in over your full bottom making you exhale loudly. “How come you waited this long to lose your virginity? There had to be boys and men that were interested.”

“Sure, but you hold out for so long and then it just feels weird anytime you try to bring it up. I dated a few people, some that I thought I would give it up to but…” you paused, your head tipping back knowing that it would be stupid to probably go off about your woes. “Let’s just say I didn’t have the best luck with guys.”

“Why? There is absolutely nothing wrong with you,” Negan insisted dragging his fingers to the tie in your robe. Loosening it, he was careful in the way he pulled apart the material allowing it to fall to your sides. Grasping tightly to your bare hips, he palmed at your flesh before lifting his hands up to cup at your breasts to give them a firm squeeze.

“There is this woman that is in my friend group that kept stealing all my boyfriends. I don’t know why, but every time I started to really like someone she would swoop in and steal them away,” you explained with Negan wrinkling his nose in response. “All of the ones I thought I cared about, she swooped in and she used her charm.”

“Let me repeat what I think I just heard,” Negan began with a frown, biting at his bottom lip when he got more comfortable underneath you. “Your friends group? Why the fuck is that woman your friend and why would your friends be okay with that?”

“It’s something I’ve tried to understand my whole life. I guess some people are just really drawn to her,” you retorted with a frown hating that this was getting sad. “I just stopped trying to lose it after a while. One day I’d like to date someone, but I just kind of wanted this out of the way.”

“I see,” Negan scoffed, his thumb sweeping in over the swell of your breast toward your nipple. “Honey, I think you need to learn to separate yourself from a toxic crowd. It sounds like this woman has done it multiple times. Which is fucked up. We gotta work on your confidence and get you to be a bigger bitch.”

“Is that so?” you were amused with the way his nose wrinkled and he snorted before his thumb circled around your nipple. Dropping your head back, you released a long breath appreciating the way that he touched you.

“Very much so, yes,” Negan grunted from underneath you, lifting up to start pressing hot, wet kisses between the valley of your breasts. When his mouth covered your breast, the warmth of his tongue twisted around your nipple and it had you bracing your hands firmly over his chest. With a disappointed breath, Negan pulled away when he heard the sound of a knock on the door. “Room service.”

“Room service,” you pouted with a smirk, shakily getting up from Negan’s lap to pull together your robe. “I’m sorry.”

“What did you even get?” Negan wondered, his eyebrow arching in curiosity when you moved for the door.

“Oh, you know. Strawberries, whipped cream and champagne,” you answered, stopping to see his reaction. It kind of looked like he was disappointed and you found amusement in that.

“Oh, that’s…” Negan began, biting down on his bottom lip.

“Boring? Typical?” you stressed noticing the confusion in his eyes when you went for the door. Opening up, you accepted the pizza box that the man was holding and grabbed the soda that he brought up with it. Tipping him, you closed the door behind you and noticed that there was a smirk tugging at his lips. “You read like the type of guy who likes pizza.”

“My kinda girl,” Negan chuckled when you sat the pizza box down on the coffee table in front of him along with the soda. Going for the cups you had earlier, you placed one in front of Negan and one down for you. “Not that I would have had a problem with those things.”

“They’re a little too romantic for me,” you confessed taking a seat down next to Negan after he pulled himself up into a seated position. “I’m sure pizza is incredibly sexy to eat and you’ll want to fool around afterwards.”

“Listen, while I would love to eat whipped cream and strawberries off your body, the fact that you got pizza turns me on so much more,” Negan admitted to you with a big cheesy smile causing your heart to flutter when he flipped open the box to grab himself a piece. Taking a big bite of the piece of pizza, he gave you a wink and swallowed down hard.

“The pizza place downstairs stays open all night on the weekends and it’s supposed to be one of the best,” you pointed out, grabbing a piece for yourself and getting comfortable beside him. Negan was in a relaxed position beside you while he took another big bite of the pizza you had gotten. “I’m glad you’re not being one of those people who snubs your nose at real food.”

“Me?” Negan spoke with a mouthful of pizza causing you to smile. “Have you looked at me? I should be saying that about you.”

“You’re the escort,” you reminded him with him dramatically rolling his eyes and shifting on the couch. “Do you have a lot of repeat clients?”

“I do,” Negan nodded his head. Turning slightly so he could face you while you spoke to him.

“Did you ever date one of your clients?” you knew your curiosity could be pushing it, but you didn’t care. This might be the only time you saw Negan, although you highly doubted it. You were liking him way too much for that.

“You mean not for work?” Negan confirmed and you nodded your head. “It’s frowned upon. I don’t think Michonne would like that. It would probably give people the wrong kind of idea. Plus, I don’t think any significant other would be okay with me doing this.”

“Fair enough,” you watched him finish off his piece of pizza and reach for a napkin. He wiped his fingers off and looked at the box that was sitting before him. Waiting to see how long he debated getting a second piece made you smirk. “You can eat another one Negan.”

Bobbing his head about, Negan grabbed another piece and this time the cheese pull was so big that he was ridiculous in the way he was trying to get it into his mouth. It made you laugh and you almost felt like he was being silly just to get a reaction out of you.

“You’re an interesting person,” you stated after swallowing down your bite of pizza. “You’re suave, sophisticated, charismatic, charming, sexy…”

“Keep going,” Negan waved his hand about in the air, a snicker falling from his lips while he continued to eat his pizza. “This goes great for my ego. It’s big already, but I enjoy hearing this kind of stuff.”

“But you’re also silly, laid back and sweet,” you commented on what you had seen from him since he had been here. “You’re incredible at sex, but your real talent is making people feel good about themselves and feel seen. You don’t have to hide the real you from me you know. If you want to eat multiple pieces of pizza, I’m not going to care. I’m not going to find you suddenly unappealing because you eat.”

Shifting on the couch beside you, there was a muscle that twitched in his jaw and he sighed loudly, “The expensive suite and the really nice hotel made me think one thing before showing up here, but you’re really nothing like I expected you to be.”

“I hope that’s a good thing?” you returned back and it made him smile, but also quickly nod. “Maybe I wanted to impress you in some sort of way while also trying to make my first time as magical as it could be. As cheesy as that sounds.”

“You have impressed me. For your first time, that was really good,” Negan assured you with a nod of your head, his smile growing bigger when you rolled your eyes. “One of my favorites really.”

“And now you’re back to lying and doing your job,” you reached out to pat him on the thigh causing him to snort in amusement.

“I’m not,” Negan huffed after swallowing down hard. “I really enjoyed it. And I hope you did too.”

“I think you know I did,” you finished up, wiping your hands off to get them clean. “The only problem is starting with you because it can only go down from there. I’ll expect too much from other people because of how good you are.”

“I’m not lying to you when I tell you that you’re one of my favorites. Not just because of the sex,” Negan insisted again, his eyebrows bouncing up when he spoke. “Not many people ask about me. They have this fantasy and they want to be focused on. You’re one of the only people that actually wanted to learn about me and know me.”

With a weak smile, you outstretched your hand and brushed your fingers into Negan’s dark hair. It had his long eyelashes fluttering to a close and he seemed to enjoy your touch. Caressing at his scalp in a tender sweep, you leaned forward and pressed a lingering kiss at Negan’s temple. When you pulled back, his hazel eyes were staring out at you with an expression you hadn’t quite seen from him yet.

There was something that felt different between the two of you while Negan finished off the last piece of his pizza, “You’re being serious about the whole not having unprotected sex with your clients thing?”  

“Why would I lie about that?” Negan responded with a long sigh. “My wife was the last time I did that.”

You both went silent for a minute and you didn’t really know what to say. It got to the point where you thought about Negan leaving in the morning. You’d really enjoyed his company, but at the end of the day it was just a business transaction between the two of you. A dream scenario that you handpicked for yourself. You’d never be able to tell anyone about it other than your best friend, but it was something that you knew you’d never forget.

Sliding forward, you brushed your fingers against the side of Negan’s face and it had his eyes connecting with yours. The way you touched him had him leaning in closer to you, “I’m glad I did this Negan. I may have never been able to meet you otherwise and you are not someone I think I’ll ever forget. You’re perfect.”

Negan’s eyes closed when you traced over his masculine features. Your fingers etched over the scar at the side of his face and you tipped forward to press a kiss over his cheek. Pulling away had him exhaling loudly as you stood up from the couch.

“I’m going to go brush my teeth so I don’t have pizza breath all night,” you declared, pointing toward the bathroom. “I think they have a brand-new toothbrush you can use if you like.”

It didn’t take long for Negan to join you in the bathroom before you were both in front of the mirror brushing your teeth together. It seemed like Negan was paying close attention to you and it felt like the mood changed slightly after what you said.

A moment later, Negan playfully nudged you with his hip and you rolled your eyes. It still got a smile out of you though. Once you were both done, you were cleaning up a bit before you felt Negan moving in behind you. Grasping onto your hips, Negan lowered down allowing the warmth of his breath to hover over your neck. It had a breath catching in your throat and you leaned back closer to him when his lips faintly pressed in over your flesh. Each kiss grew in strength with him pampering your neck with wet kisses that had chills flooding throughout your veins.

Having the mirror to watch his reflection in enhanced the sensation so much more. Not only did it feel incredible, but getting to see him do it? Well that was an extra added bonus. Nipping at your flesh, his finger grasped a hold of the material of your robe to push it away from your shoulder. Trailing his lips down over your neck and toward your shoulder had you tipping your head to the side, enjoying the way it felt with him leaving tiny bites at your flesh before kissing over it. Purring out, you felt the sensation of his fingers curling around your throat. In most cases you didn’t know if you would trust other people grasping your throat like he was, but the way he did it left you hotter than you could begin to imagine. Lifting his eyes, Negan stole a quick look at you in the mirror with a wicked smirk tugging at his handsome lips. Outstretching his fingers, he grasped a tight hold of your jaw and growled when he nuzzled his nose in against the side of your neck.

Dropping his free hand down, Negan’s fingers started loosening the knot in your robe to get it apart. Once the material started to separate, it took no time for him to push it from your body helping it to drop down to pool around your ankles. Every part of you felt like it was on fire with the way that his eyes ate every inch of your body alive in the reflection of the mirror.

Gasping out, you felt his free arm curling around your waist to pull you flush against him. The hold he had on you was possessive with his palm caressing up over your abdomen drawing lines over your flesh. As the warmth of his palm etched under your breasts, it had you exhaling loudly causing him to smile. Cupping one of your breasts, he tested the flesh in his grasp. An extended sigh fell from your parted lips with his fingertips circling over your nipple turning it to a hardened peak. It was obvious by the way he was that Negan liked to be in control of things, but you liked it.

“You are so fucking beautiful,” Negan slurred with his kisses pressing over your ear, nipping at your earlobe when you braced your hands over the bathroom counter. Turning your head slightly, you met his lips in a drawn-out kiss that took your breath away. You wondered if there was something this man wasn’t good at because so far? He was doing a hell of a job making you swoon over every aspect of him. Breaking away, Negan slid his hands down over your body to grab a tight hold of your hips. His right hand slid in over the small of your back, tracing up over the planes of it toward your shoulders. Putting a small amount of pressure there, he got you to lean forward bracing your hands on the counter. Staring at his expressions in the mirror, you felt a lump growing in your throat when his palms squeezed over your fleshy bottom. “I can’t get enough of you.”

“I was thinking the same thing about you,” you purred catching the smirk that tugged at his handsome features when his eyes lifted to meet your stare in the mirror. Biting down on your bottom lip, you moaned when he lowered down to start pressing kisses down your back. A breath caught in your throat when Negan lowered down behind you, his hands squeezing firmly at your thighs. Urging you to spread your legs, a growl fell from his throat when your body was fully exposed to him.

“You have such a pretty little pussy,” Negan rumbled, the warmth of his breath lingering over your flesh. Dropping your head forward, you enjoyed the way that Negan’s hands caressed over your body before pressing in over your cheeks to spread your flesh to get better access to your tight hole. Leaning in, Negan teased the tip of his tongue over your entrance enticing you with the idea of him pleasuring you and it had you mewling out. Faint kisses followed with your eyes closing tightly making it easy for you to focus on what he was doing. Each movement of his mouth over your body grew wetter, his slurping causing a whimper to fall from your throat. Grasping tighter to the counter, your heart hammered in your chest with the way he was focusing on your entrance with his tongue delving inside of you delivering you some of the most extreme, unexpected pleasure of the night. Whining out when he pulled his head back had him snickering. His rough fingertips replaced his mouth, teasing long lines up and over your sensitive folds. “Fuck, you are driving me crazy.”

“Negan,” you panted his name when he circled his fingers over your entrance before pushing his middle finger unhurriedly into the depths of your warmth.

A pleased sound escaped him in a deep rumble of a groan. The pull back and push forward of his long slender digit inside of you had you biting down firmly on your bottom lip. When he inserted another finger, you whined out enjoying the ways in which he had already learned your body after one time with him. Rhythmically his fingers moved inside of you, leaving your thighs tremoring with the motions. Balancing your weight better over the counter, you heard Negan humming to himself which was followed by him nipping at your bottom.

“I think you’re ready for me,” Negan declared pulling his fingers from your body when he carefully raised up from the ground. Your body was so eager for an orgasm that he had worked up inside of you, but it almost felt like when he got you just about there, he stopped on purpose. Behind heavy eyelids, you watched in the mirror as Negan very slowly undid the knot in his robe. You’d seen him naked before, but you didn’t want to miss it as the material parted. Shimmying out of the robe, Negan let it slide down his arms and drop at his feet allowing you to see his naked form in the reflection. Lifting his fingers up to his lips, Negan licked at the tips before lowering his palm back down to curl his fingers around his solid manhood. “Y’know, you turned out to be quite the surprise.”

“In a good way I hope,” you gazed back over your shoulder to steal a look at his straining erection while he unhurriedly stroked over his body. Stepping in behind you, Negan released his cock letting it bob with his movement. Gasping, you dropped your head back down when Negan’s grasp over your hips moved you where he needed you. Watching Negan in the mirror now, you could see his jaw flexing when he squeezed at your bottom.

“In the best of ways,” Negan retorted with a growl, the weight of his cock resting over your bottom drawing your hips back closer to him. It had him smiling with how eager you were, but he just curled his fingers around the base of his erection, tapping it against your flesh. “Most virgins, they act shy and scared. But not you. You didn’t even flinch when you saw me naked.”

“Because I knew I wanted you more than anything,” you admitted, licking your lips feeling your pulse jumping in your throat when Negan’s eyes lifted. An amused expression filled Negan’s features with what you said. Taking one step back, Negan teased the tip of his cock over the length of your sex collecting your arousal over it. Repeatedly he teased himself up over your body before down again. “Please.”

“You are something else,” Negan snickered, bending his knees slightly to smack his cock up against your clit which had you whimpering out. After a few repeated movements, Negan pulled back and smirked. Lining his body up with yours, he pushed his hips forward. Moaning out in unison, you kept your eyes locked on his when he took his time filling you again. “Good girl.”

Pushing his hands up your sides, Negan caressed over the lengths of your body when he bottomed out inside of you. Curling his hands around the front, his rough fingertips drew lines over your abdomen before meeting your breasts to cup them in a tender squeeze. Staring down, Negan licked his lips when he pulled his hips back drawing his cock almost completely out of you before thrusting forward sinking almost completely into you again.

“You take daddy’s big cock so well. And you want every inch of it,” Negan slurred, biting down on his bottom lip when he started a slow pace between you. Every smack forward of his hips drew forth a loud sound that echoed, but got you loved it. “You like me being balls deep inside of you. You just shake in euphoria. I can see in your eyes…”

“I’ve never felt anything like it,” you cooed, bracing your right hand better on the counter before reaching back with your left hand to grasp at his hips. “Harder.”

With a deep rumble of a growl, Negan stepped in closer to you having you gasp out. His right hand covered yours, hooking his fingers with yours and then his left hand braced on the counter. Giving you what you asked, his hips thrusts grew stronger with his lower abdomen smacking up against your bottom.

“God, you are so fucking perfect,” Negan rumbled, his left hand lifting to curl around your jaw. Using a bit of force had him pulling you back close to him with him kissing down over your jawline. Nipping at your flesh had you wincing, but you liked the way he made you feel like you belonged to him. “Your hot, tight little pussy feels so good around my big cock. You know that?”

“Negan,” you panted his name, fighting to keep your eyes open with the way he was smacking up against you. Your hips were pressed against the counter and you were up on your tip toes. The deep plunges of his body felt absolutely incredible like this, but you were having a hard time staying on your feet. “Fuck…”

Letting go of your fingers, Negan’s right hand dropped between your thighs. His rough fingertips finding your sensitive bundle of nerves while he caressed over it in unison with his thrusts. Your moans grew louder and by the expression over his face he was pleased.

“Take a good look at yourself. You should be proud,” Negan kissed at your jawline again, nipping at your earlobe afterwards. “You knew what you wanted and you took it. You took it like a fucking boss and no one can ever take that from you.”

Your heart was hammering in your chest. The wet sounds his body was making inside of you was driving you crazy. Negan stretched you, filled you in ways that you could never imagine and he made sure you were focused so you could feel every ounce of it.

“Look at how fucking beautiful you are,” Negan palmed down over your chest, grasping firmly to your breast while he fucked you. “You are so fucking perfect.”

Whining out, you dropped your head back against his shoulder when your thighs started to tremble, your hips rocking back against his movements. Negan bit at your neck, peppering kisses afterwards in a soothing fashion. He was going to leave a mark, but you didn’t care. Your breathing grew louder, the sounds of your heart pulsating in your head letting you know he was bringing you right to the edge. A few more sharp thrusts forward had you crying out, a liquid rush of warmth flooding your entire body when he snickered against your flesh.

“Good girl,” Negan praised you, stopping his movements to experience your orgasm as your body flexed around his. Licking his lips in a drawn-out fashion, Negan pulled his cock from your body, but his movements were fast when he hooked his arm around your waist to turn you and set you down on top of the counter. Pulling you to the edge of it, Negan led his manhood back to your ready entrance. Sinking back into you with ease, the vein at the side of Negan’s neck bulged and it had you bracing your hands back on the counter. “Watch my big cock fucking you…”

Doing as you were told, you dropped your head down seeing every pull back and push forward of his girthy length as it moved inside of you, “Who does your tight little pussy belong to?”

“It belongs to you,” you panted, hissing out when you felt Negan’s fingers curling around your throat. Meeting his stare, Negan stepped closer to you causing you to whine with him filling you completely again. Capturing your lips with his, Negan demanded you to kiss him. It was powerful, it was wet and it was everything you wanted in that moment. You wanted to be made his and it felt like he was claiming that ownership on you. Brushing his tongue against yours had you purring out, your arms clinging around his shoulders with his thrusts now growing faster. With a wet sound, your mouths separated and Negan smiled. “It’s all yours.”

“Yes, it is,” Negan agreed with a wickedly sexy smile tugging at his features. His hair had grown slightly damp with sweat, clinging to his flesh. “I could just fuck you all day and night. You know that? You feel so fucking good.”

“Negan,” your nails bit into his shoulders and you wondered if it was bad that you did that, but it was involuntary. You didn’t mean to, but he didn’t seem to care when his lips tampered off over the side of your neck. Palming up over the back of his neck, you sank your fingers into his hair and panted in his ear. “Your big cock feels so good inside of me.”

With an amused rumble, Negan hooked his arm around your body picking you up with his strength. Grasping tightly to him, you were surprised with his strength when he carried you out of the bathroom and to the living room. Dropping down with you over the couch, Negan urged your legs around his waist. Adjusting his positioning, Negan hovered his lips over yours and braced himself. The dark curls of hair from his chest teased against your nipples with the skin-to-skin contact. His hips started to roll over yours keeping himself pretty deeply inside of you to start.

“I never want to leave your fucking pussy,” Negan rumbled bringing your lips together in multiple sloppy kisses that had you sucking at his tongue. The sound of Negan’s moan was one of your favorite things so far. Knowing that you could draw that out from him made you feel so good about yourself. As each thrust grew harder, you felt his testicles smacking up against your flesh and you were thankful to have him filling you like this. It ached being stretched by his impressive cock, but you liked the way it felt. You were desperate for more of it.

“I never want you to leave,” you drew your tongue over his lips and he hummed in approval. Nipping at his bottom lip, you gave it a tug and the sound that fell from his throat was so delicious. Your heels dug into the flesh at his thighs with him smacking up against you. Outstretching his left arm, Negan grasped a hold of the arm of the couch to help him slow down his movements but make them harder. Smack. Smack. Each thrust was loud with your flesh hitting his. A smirk tugged at his lips, his head throwing back with a moan falling from his parted lips. His lower abdomen flexed, his throat tensing up with the way he was moving. “Do you like that pussy?”

“I fucking love that pussy,” Negan slurred with a nod, a line of sweat sliding down from his temple. “It feels so fucking good.”

“Pound my pussy. Please,” you begged and it had Negan snicker before nodding his head. You whined when he pulled his cock from your body with a wet sound. Pouting, it didn’t last long before he turned you onto your stomach. Lowering in over you, Negan curled his arm around your waist bracing himself with his left arm. He was back inside of you in seconds, his thrusts starting off immediately fast. Your cries were louder. In this position, his legs were surrounding yours, the warmth of his body radiant over your back making you feel trapped, but in the best of ways. “Oh my god…”

Negan’s lips kissed at your jawline, his moans matching yours. You were definitely going to be feeling this one later. You asked, he was delivering. Turning your head just enough, you begged for him to kiss you and he obliged. His tongue colliding with yours when you parted your lips just enough for him. His moans vibrated against your flesh and you purred out.

“Don’t stop,” you whined, keeping your lips pressed against his. You were growing incredibly sensitive, your hips pulling up, but his movements followed yours not allowing you to get away from him. Grasping tightly to the arm of the couch, you cried out when your body violently shook and an amused sound fell from Negan. Your head ached, your heart hammering when you felt the wetness at the back of your thighs.

“There is no bigger compliment than that of a woman squirting all over you,” Negan spanked at your ass, while you still trembled before him. Before you could even consider what was happening, Negan was back inside of you pounding away at your already sensitive body drawing you closer to the edge of the couch with your coos and cries. It wasn’t long before you were smacking at his thigh again having him pull back just in time for another wet sound to fill the room with Negan’s fingers caressing over your clit to enhance the extraordinary amounts of pleasure that followed. It left you breathless when Negan crawled in behind you to cuddle his face in against yours. “You are so much fun.”

“You’re going to kill me,” you announced with a tired breath and Negan snickered.

“Death by sex is a good way to go,” he retorted, nipping at your jawline again. “I’m so fucking glad I took this call tonight. You have easily become my favorite.”

Drawing kisses down over your shoulders and over the length of your back had you purring out. You were too worn out to move in that moment, but you enjoyed the way he cherished your body. The warmth of his lips over your spine made you take in a sharp breath before he squeezed at the flesh of your ass. When he nipped at your cheek it had you hissing out before looking over your shoulder at him.

“Sit,” you breathed out wondering if you had it in you to continue. With a smirk, Negan nodded and got into a seated position. His cock twitched and he growled out when you started to move on the couch. Stroking his fingers over his girthy length brought attention to the swollen tip. Moving carefully over him, you allowed him to lead his cock back into your wet hole and you whined. God, you were so fucking sensitive at this point. Reaching for Negan’s hands, you forced them against the back of the couch and he smiled a big wolfish type of smile.

Taking your time to get used to the control, you carefully lowered your hips down over him before lifting them up. It took a while for you to get used to it before you started a steady pace between the two of you.

“That cock is all yours sweetheart,” Negan muttered, his dimples prominent when you leaned in closer to hover your lips over his. “It’s all yours.”

“That’s exactly what I wanted to hear,” you dropped your hips down, taking all of him in which had him groaning out, his head dropping back against the couch. You shook over him, your fingers squeezing tighter to his. Circling your hips over his had his cock drawing slightly in and out of you with each movement you made. “I want you to come inside me. Fill my pussy with your cum.”

“Yes ma’am,” Negan started bouncing his hips up toward yours over and over again. Loud fleshy smacks surrounded the both of you with your jaw resting over Negan’s shoulder. You tried to keep up, but you let go of his hands allowing them to grasp your hips while he bounced you over his length. “You like the feeling of daddy filling you with his seed?”

“Yes,” you panted, trying to hold in your cries, but you couldn’t. “So much.”

“Daddy is gonna pump you so full of his cum that it’s going to be dripping down your thighs,” Negan promised with a smirk, forcing you forward. Gasping out, you were surprised with his quickness. Laying you out across the coffee table, Negan got on his knees keeping your hips right at the edge. “You’d make such a perfect little breeder wouldn’t you?”

“Yes daddy,” you felt his hands hooking with yours again while his hips bounced up into yours.

“With your perfect little wet pussy,” Negan hummed, the lines in his forehead growing while he had his way with you. “Just begging to have me come inside of you again and again…”

“Please,” you panted biting down on your bottom lip, lifting your hips to meet his thrusts.

“Fuck,” Negan dropped his stare looking down between the two of you, his thrusts growing stronger. “I’m gonna fill you up so good. Paint the walls of your pretty little pussy with my cum.”

“Yes daddy,” you gasped when you felt the first twitch of his cock inside of you. The sound of Negan’s moans and the slowing of his hips alerted you to his release. Crying out, you felt the table tipping having you both land on the floor with a thud. Taking advantage you rolled Negan onto his back and slowly rocked your hips over his still pulsating cock. “I want every…last…drop.”

Each moan you drew out of Negan delighted you and you loved the way the warmth of him filled you. He wasn’t wrong, you felt his cum starting to seep out of you dripping down your thighs and you liked it. It felt good. You felt like you were his and you couldn’t get enough of it.

Laying in over his chest, you didn’t pull your body away. He was still very much inside of you and Negan was left panting beneath you. Kissing at his chest, you teased your tongue over his nipple before sucking faintly at it. Lowering your head down, you listened to his heart pounding inside of his chest. Surprise filled your body when Negan wrapped you up in his arms and held you tightly to him.

“I uh…” Negan slurred, his Adam’s apple bouncing in his throat when you lifted your head from his chest to look up at him. “I don’t think I want you to belong to anyone else.”

“What do you mean?” you wondered, confused where he was heading with this.

“I mean, I want your pussy to be solely mine,” Negan confessed, his jaw flexing when he firmly smacked over your bottom making you arch forward, only slightly drawing his softening cock out of you. Dropping your hips back down had the most delicious groan falling from him. “I want to be the only man that can fill you with my cum. I want to be the man making you squirt…I want you to belong to me.”

“I can probably only afford this once or twice more,” you alerted him with a frown, starting to press faint kisses over his lips. “I wish I could. More than anything, I would love to be yours. But it’s a fantasy you’re selling and you sell it well. Trust me, I will pay for another date.”

“No,” Negan grumbled, rolling you over onto your back which had you whimpering out arching your hips up. His lips parted and he pulled his hips back. Finally allowing his softening cock to leave the warmth of your body. Staring down, Negan watched his cum pouring out of you before he got settled between your thighs. Unhurriedly, he collected some of his cum that spilled from your body. Pushing his fingers back inside of you, he made sure to rub his fingertips against the walls of your pussy. “I don’t want another man having you. I want you to be mine.”

“I want to be yours too,” you purred, arching your hips up seeing him smirk when he pulled his long slender digits from your body. Reaching for his hand, you wrapped your lips around his fingers to clean the taste of your bodies from them. It had him groaning out and he lowered down to steal kiss after kiss from you. Enjoying the taste of his release on your tongue.

The conversation almost felt forgotten with the two of you laying together on the floor. It was a while before you gathered yourselves enough to make it back to the bedroom. Being wrapped up in Negan’s arms felt incredible. Neither one of you really slept. You just laid there together. After the sun had started to rise, Negan had crawled in over you again. What was surprising was this time, it actually felt more romantic. Sensual. His thrusts were slow, his kisses more focused. The eye contact was incredible and it was more so about the two of you being connected. By the time his winces started to fill the air, you curled your fingers around the back of his neck and allowed him to nuzzle his nose against the side of your neck when his orgasm hit him. Your cries vibrated against his ear, while he moaned against your flesh.

Laying over you, you both seemed incredibly comfortable while you stroked your fingers through his hair. Looking to the clock, you felt a bit of disappointment when you saw the time, “Our time is up.”

“Just a little while longer,” Negan stammered against your flesh and you held him close. Pressing kisses over his freckle covered shoulders. When he did start to move, you felt miserable. It was a perfect dream that he sold during the night, but it wasn’t real. You always knew that. Negan threw his legs over the side of the bed, sitting on the edge of it for a few minutes. It looked like he was deep in thought while you pulled the blankets in closer to your body. “This really was amazing.”

“Yeah,” you nodded your head, a weak smile tugging at your lips. “I really liked spending the time with you. You’re phenomenal.”

“Right,” Negan chuckled, reaching out to squeeze over your exposed thigh that was out from the blanket. “You know, if we would have met another way…I would have loved…”

“Don’t say that,” you stopped him, feeling your chest aching at the thought. “You told me yourself you don’t date people. It’s against the rules. You like this job. And I’m just a job…”

“It’s against the rules to have unprotected sex with a client,” Negan reminded you, his jaw flexing as if he was contemplating his next thought. Well, there you couldn’t call him out because he had been very honest with you. “We did it several times. Which brings me to my next point, I don’t usually sleep with my clients that much. Nor do I still want to stay when my time is up.”

“I almost believe you with that last point,” you reached for his hand, bringing it to you so you could deposit a kiss against the center of his palm. “I’m sure you’ve had plenty of clients that you liked just as much and didn’t want to leave in the morning.”

Frowning, Negan swallowed down hard and stood up from the bed. Going for his pants, Negan pulled them on slowly and stood by the side of the bed looking down at you.

“I’ll be sure to let Michonne know how amazing this was. How professional you were,” you stressed and it had Negan’s right eyebrow arching up. “Job well done, Negan. You’ll have a return customer. Just maybe only one or two more times.”

“Yeah,” Negan bit down on his bottom lip, something in his hazel eyes making the moment feel awkward. “I mean it when I say if things were different, I really would want you to be mine. I meant what I said when we were together in the living room. It’s just with my job, I know that I would get fired and…”

“I paid you to take my virginity Negan,” you reminded him, pulling the blanket in closer to you realizing how pathetic that actually sounded. “You didn’t come here because you wanted a date with me. You had a job, you did your job and you did it well. You don’t have to keep selling me on the romance because I know I’m just a job. I know I wouldn’t be your type. In the real world, this would have never happened. But thank you for allowing me that fantasy.”

Caressing his hand over the side of his face, Negan dragged his fingers out through his short beard and shrugged his shoulders, “You’re not like the other ones.”

“What’s that supposed to mean?” you breathed out knowing like hell that you wanted to be the one special person to make Negan want to break all the rules, but it didn’t logically make any sense. You were just some virgin. There was nothing you brought to the table for a man like that. “So you’re telling me you’ve never told another one of your clients that if things were different you would have no problem dating them?”

Silence followed. Negan’s head tipped to the side, his lips parted and he looked like he wanted to say something. Instead he lowered his head and a loud exhale fell from his throat, “That’s what I thought. I’m not the first person you used that line on.”

“You’re the first person I meant it with,” Negan suggested almost in a whisper, but you had a hard time letting that protective wall down. It was an amazing thought, but he was still telling you that it could never happen.

“I don’t know why you’re saying this to me when at the end of the day, it’s never going to happen anyways. It’s only going to hurt me hearing this shit. You don’t have to keep selling your feelings on me. Like you said, you can’t do it and you’ll lose your job. It’s not happening,” you stressed what he said and you slid up in the bed resting your back against the headframe. “I just don’t want to hear the bullshit. You don’t mean it. You sold me on you. I’d rather you be honest. This was a great fantasy you sold. I don’t need you to tell me that you wish you could date me. I’m not going to get my lines crossed. I know this was a business transaction. One that I will be feeling for a while. Thank you.”

“Yeah,” Negan swallowed down hard, taking a moment to stand there before nodding his head. “You really are the only one I’ve had unprotected sex with.”

“I believe that,” you stammered looking to the time feeling like this was just getting more and more awkward with him trying to make you feel special.

“No one ever tried to learn about the real me either,” Negan informed you, his fingers clenched together in fists at his side. “The rest of them just want to talk about themselves. No one ever cares about the real me. What I’m about. About my late wife…”

“And that’s unfortunate because I think you’re a very likable guy that deserves real love Negan,” you declared with a bounce of your eyebrows. An expression flooded his features that you couldn’t quite read, but it didn’t last long before he nodded. Heading off throughout the room, Negan collected his clothes and put them on haphazardly. Keeping his jacket in his hand at his side, Negan pointed toward where you were laying on the bed. “Yeah?”

“Are you staying?” Negan questioned and you shrugged.

“I paid for the room until noon, I might as well stay and enjoy the view,” you explained pointing toward the window having Negan dramatically nod his head. “Thank you again.”

Negan shifted on his feet looking between you and the door. Then his eyes fell on the clock. It was quite some time after he was supposed to leave. Motioning him to wait, you reached for something from the top drawer of the nightstand that was beside the bed. Pulling something out had his eyes looking down to see that you had more money that was there.

“Here, take this as a tip,” you outstretched your hand, trying to hand him over the money. Shaking his head, Negan refused and you sighed. “You said you slept with me more than you did most people. Tipping you is allowed, isn’t it?”

“It is,” Negan breathed out still refusing to reach for the money. “I don’t want your money.”

“That’s a little ironic, isn’t it?” you dropped your hand seeing Negan shrug his shoulders and make a dramatic expression.

“I did it because I wanted to. Not because you forced me to,” Negan stressed once more hearing his phone buzzing in his pocket. Frowning, Negan pulled his phone out of his pocket and looked at who it was before swiping it away. Pushing it back into his pocket, Negan bit down on his bottom lip and frowned. “Keep your money.”

“Was that Michonne?” you were curious. With one nod of his head it made you smirk. “She’s probably checking in to see how things went.”

“Yeah,” Negan was short with his answer, biting down on his bottom lip before backstepping toward the door. “I guess I should go.”

Instead of saying anything, you sighed and put your money back since Negan refused to take it.

“Do you want a kiss?” Negan offered, throwing his hand up and you laughed, giving him a strange look. “What?”

“No more bullshit,” you repeated what you had said earlier and he frowned. “You don’t want to kiss me. It’s okay. You can leave. I promise you I’m happy with what you did.”

“Okay,” Negan huffed rubbing at the back of his neck again before heading back toward the door. Opening it up, you felt a sudden rush of depression knowing that this whole incredible night was just something that was made up. Closing your eyes, you dropped your head back and wanted the world to swallow you whole. The sound of the door opening was heard, but you never heard it close. A moment later you felt the bed dip, the sensation of lips claiming yours kissing you over and over again before pulling unhurriedly away. “I do want to kiss you goodbye. No bullshit.”

Slowly, your eyes fluttered to an open with Negan sweeping his thumb over your bottom lip to collect the wetness that was over them. Gradually moving back, Negan gave you a wink before heading for the door. Once he left, you knew that you would never tell anyone about this moment in full. It was too incredible. Too personal and you just knew that you couldn’t think too much into it.

When it hit noon, you had the hotel room cleaned up, you were dressed in your casual clothes and you were headed down to the first floor to check out. The dream was over and you were going to feel it for a while. Once you stepped out of the line, you went to head for the door until you heard someone calling out to you.

“Excuse me, miss…” a familiar raspy voice called out to you and you turned on your heel to see that Negan was sitting in the waiting area at the front of the hotel. Getting up from his seat, he moved before you and offered a weak smile. “I know this is bold, but I just saw you walking by and I just had to say hello. My name is Negan…”

“What are you doing?” you laughed looking down at his hand. Bouncing his eyebrows, Negan nodded toward his hand and you accepted the gesture. “You’re not on the clock anymore Negan.”

“No, you see, I was just sitting here after a long night,” Negan pointed back over toward where he was waiting and he shrugged his shoulders. “And then I saw you…and I just realized that I had to take my shot. I was wondering if maybe you weren’t busy you would want to get some coffee or maybe some lunch with me today?”

“Like a date?” you whispered, confusion flooding your veins. Your question made him smile and he nodded slowly.

“Like a date,” he repeated, his fingers curling around yours tightly. “You see, I’m not working today and I am just completely enchanted by you.”

“Negan…” you stammered his name when he stepped forward and the warmth of his body sent a rush of excitement throughout your veins just having him near you since you didn’t know when you’d ever see him again. “You don’t have to do this.”

“I don’t have to do anything. In fact, I run away from the idea of something like this because I’ve never made that kind of connection with someone in a long time. But I want to get to know you,” Negan reasoned with you, his free hand lifting to brush his thumb over your jaw. “But this is something that I want to do. That is…if you’ll have me that is.”

“Absolutely,” you smirked, your heart hammering in your chest with the way he was staring down at you. “What about the rules? The possibility of losing your job?”

“Michonne doesn’t have to know every aspect of my life,” Negan insisted, his dimples becoming more prominent as he spoke. “You’re worth the risk.”

“So I keep hearing,” you were enamored by how he kept saying that toward you. Considering he waited for you that whole time made you swoon. It was hard to deny him after that and the way he approached you. “I do have to warn you though Negan. I’m a little hard to get.”

“Good, me too,” Negan teased with a wrinkle of his nose which had the both of you laughing. “You ready to go?”

“With you?” you muttered and it had him nodding. “I’ll go anywhere.”

----

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[viperify]

Kinktober 2024 | 𝗼𝗰𝘁 𝟯𝟭: ᴛᴏᴍᴀᴄᴏ X ꜰ!ʀᴇᴀᴅᴇʀ

ɢʀᴀɴᴅ ꜰɪɴᴀʟᴇ

No Escape.

Short summary: As an Order member, Harry had asked you to keep a close look on Tom and Draco, your sworn enemies. As you spotted them exiting the castle late at night, you decided to follow their tracks. That’s how you ended up in their cabin in the Forbidden Forest, wrists and ankles tied, while they taught you what it meant to snoop into Death Eater business.

Warnings: 18+ only! mask kink, degradation, exploiting power, abduction, fear play, nipple play, rough oral!m receiving, unprotected p in v, rough sex in general, face slapping, dacryphilia, boot worship, dub con, orgasm denial, little to no aftercare, dark!tom, dark!draco

A/N: This marks the end of Kinktober 2024! For this last oneshot I wanted to write something darker and also decided to double the usual wordcount, to make it a worthy finale! I hope my posts were somewhat enjoyable. A huge thank you to everyone for reading and supporting my works <3

wordcount: 4,5k

part 2

It was dangerous, reckless even.

The Order had sent you to spy on two of your classmates, Tom and Draco. Harry had been suspicious of them having been turned into followers of Voldemort, so your task was to investigate and keep an eye on their movements within and outside of the castle. And it had been going well – you had listened to several of their conversations, in which they had talked about some sort of “tasks” they had to complete. However, you have kept that for yourself until now, not wanting the Order to disturb your research just yet.

But your ambition got the best of you. As you saw the both of them sneak out the castle late at night, you decided to follow them secretly, wanting to get behind whatever they were up to. After, you would finally report back to the Order and let them take over.

They headed in the direction of the Forbidden Forest, too fast for you to keep up with, losing them out of your sight. It was too late to turn around now, though. You entered the woods, trying to make as little noise as possible. The night sky was pitch black, having you rely on your hearing only. Creaking branches and eerie noises coming from creatures living in the Forbidden Forest made you regret your insatiable nosiness, having you flinch at every little sound.

It was then when you wanted to turn around, returning to your warm bed, keeping you from the cold of the freezing January nights. Your growing hunger to rat the two boys out however outweighed any discomfort you were feeling at the time.

Tom and Draco. You had never gotten on well with them, their ego and arrogance hitting a nerve every time you heard them speak, thus your commitment to have them expelled. If it was true what Harry said – them being Death Eaters – there would be no chance of them ever returning to Hogwarts again. A knowing smirk formed on your face at the thought. Not only were they horrible people to be around, no, they also had it out for you after finding out about your very unfortunate love interest for the brunette. It was a mistake, truly. You thought you had a slight chance of getting him to like you back but oh how mistaken you were.

People started picking up on the rumours, having them spread like fiendfyre. Soon enough, it reached Tom and the other boys, including Draco. They didn’t take it easy on you after that. Bitter mocking and bullying were part of your daily routine for basically the rest of the second year you spent at Hogwarts. Now, in your seventh year, the mocking had stopped, yet the tension between you still lingered thick in the air.

Naturally, these feelings had long vanished. Instead of love, pure hate filled your heart at the mere thought of them. Yet, sometimes you couldn’t help yourself but take a quick glance at the brunette’s curls that made you fall in love with him in the first place. And Draco’s sea-blue eyes, that drew you right in… you shook your head. It was wrong. Not after what they had put you through.

You would make them suffer just like they had made you suffer for years. It would finally all be over after tonight.

Seeing a small light further into the forest, you carefully walked towards it, investigating where it came from. Though, the closer you got to the source, the further it seemed to travel away. Truly curious you thought, not halting your movements.

Snap.

A loud crack of a wooden branch somewhere behind you tore you out of your thoughts, quickly hiding behind a nearby bush. You could feel your heart beating in your chest, blood rushing through your ears. Had you missed something? They couldn’t have possibly spotted you, right? An owl flying by, screeching, made you flinch yet again.

Enough.

You have had enough of this. Standing up, you wiped your trousers, intending to return to the castle. You had failed to follow them, that was on you. It was time to give the Order the information they needed so desperately.

Turning around towards the exit of the forest, you bumped into something that definitely did not stand there before.

“There there, who do we have here?” A familiar voice mumbled, though somehow distorted by a… Death Eater mask.

It wasn’t easy to make out due to the lack of lighting, yet so recognizable at the same time. Your eyes shot open, heart hammering in your chest. You stumbled backwards, attempting to make a run for it. A second pair of strong arms grabbed you, covering your mouth with one of their hands. “Where do you think you are going? Don’t you think it is rude to follow us all the way here and then wanting to leave so suddenly? He questioned. It was then when you realized who you were facing. Tom and Draco, disguised as Death Eaters.

“So it’s true!” You spat, somewhat freeing yourself of the blonde’s strong grip. “You are Death Eaters.”

No answer, only scoffs coming from their side. While the blonde still held onto you, Tom took your wand, tugging it into his own coat. “Give me my wand back and let me go!” You demanded, though your pleas fell on deaf ears. “Won’t be needing it anymore, darling.”

“Don’t call me that!”

“That won’t be the worst thing we are going to refer to you as tonight.”

Kicking, biting, screaming. It all didn’t help. They dragged you to a small hut, deeper into the forest, close to where you had originally spotted the source of light coming from. As they opened the door, you took in the seemingly cozy setting revealing itself to you. With two beds on each side and a small chimney in the back of the cabin, it didn’t intimidate you as much as you thought it would. As soon as the door fell shut behind you, a chair was summoned to the middle of the room, the brunette making you sit on it. A quick swirl of his wand later your ankles and wrists were bound tightly to the chair, making you unable to even move the slightest bit. The ropes burnt into your skin, as the blonde stuffed a cloth in your mouth, securing it with tape to keep you from talking. They lit the fireplace, warmth immediately spreading through the freezing hut.

Finally, they stood in front of you, as you now were able to see them properly for the first time. They were dressed in all black, heavy boots, the signature Death Eater mask covering their face and hid their hair under a black hood. If it weren’t for their voices, even those slightly distorted through the mask, you wouldn’t have recognized them. That was the least of your worries at the moment though. After all, you sat there in front of two Death Eaters, tied up on a chair, your wand long gone. You cursed yourself internally for even getting in this situation, and slowly but surely fear settled in. What would they do to you after realising you had been snooping around?

Slowly, the taller figure, Tom, stalked towards you, step after step coming closer to your helpless self.

“That’s what they call “fighters” in their ranks. Potter had always been fond of you, hm? That’s how you got in in the first place. No sane mind would even consider taking you in otherwise. Must have done many filthy things to convince him. Of course, we didn’t expect anything else. Look at you. So easy to catch. To tie up. To use for our own good.”

He circled around you, finally coming to a halt behind you, resting his arms on the on the chair as he leaned in, his face inching closer to yours. “Where is the Order now to protect you?” The brunette whispered into your ear with fake sympathy.

Your face turned to the side as the second man’s palm met your cheek harshly, leaving a red imprint behind. Don’t cry, don’t cry, don’t cry. It would only satisfy their sick minds.

“Speak when spoken to!” Draco demanded. “Oh, my bad. Forgot you can’t.” He mocked, tearing the tape from your face in a quick motion. You hissed at the pain, yet remained silent otherwise. You wouldn’t let them get to you. Not like this. After all they had done to you, you wouldn’t let them break you again, you had sworn to it.

“Don’t want to talk? Too bad. Exactly for this scenario we have come prepared. We know how much you love rats, doll.” They revealed a cage, a rat sitting within. Placing the cage it on your lap, they watched your reaction.

“Get that thing away from me!” you screeched, tears falling down your face. There was no use in shuffling around to get it off, the ropes were too tight.

“Not if you act like this, darling.”

You couldn’t believe it. They wouldn’t really harm you, would they? “Please! I will do anything!”

“You answer every single question and follow every single command we give you. Otherwise…” Tom dragged out the last word as his fingers travelled to the lock, playing with it. “No, no please I will!”

“Wise choice.” You felt an intense relief as they finally moved it out of sight.

“You bastards!” You cried, breathing shakily, though immediately regretting your choice of words. Another hard slap to your other cheek. “You are in no position to speak to us like that.”

“What are you going to do to me?” You asked, sobbing, your gaze flickering between the two in front of you.

They finally took of their mask, revealing themselves to you. You recognized the gorgeous brunette curls and stunning deep-blue eyes straight away.

“Nothing you haven’t been wishing for, darling. You should know Draco and me are skilled Legilimens, aware of all your dirty imaginations.”

Shit.

Throwback to Potions Class, sixth year

You were sitting with your friends, studying the ingredients of a new potion, when Tom and Draco entered the classroom with their friends. Their presence always had a somewhat bitter taste to it. You hated them for their smug, arrogant behaviour, yet couldn’t deny your attraction towards them, as much as you hated to admit it.

They sat down, preparing their cauldron. Your gaze wandered to Tom and Draco’s hands, taking in the shape of their slender fingers. The way they held onto their wand, the way they worked the knife – you wondered what else they could do. In general, they were beautifully built. Taller than you, perfectly shaped body. Your mind went as far as imagining what they would look like without their Slytherin robes, just when you could feel a piercing gaze on you, tearing you out of your daydream. It was Tom, looking at you as though he had heard you think.

You turned your focus back to your textbook, avoiding his stare. Not thinking much of it, these thoughts kept coming back every now and then, getting more intense. At some point you wish they just bent you over that damn table and fucked you right there in the classroom.

You hated yourself for it. Your sworn enemies – and you thought of them like that?

Back to the present

All these months – they knew? They knew what you had been daydreaming about? Heat rushed to your face, turning a deep shade of red. You felt exposed and embarrassed to a level you didn’t think was possible.

“So this was all planned? You lured me into the forest so you could get back at me?” You hissed as realization set in.

“Don’t you think we have noticed your pathetic attempts to spy on us? This here was all part of the plan. And you so perfectly followed us into our trap. This is about teaching you a lesson not to mess with us. If you behave, we might even think about letting you go unharmed, hm?” The blonde smiled, his index finger lifting your chin so you were forced to look at him, while his thumb softly swiped along your jawline.

Hot tears threatened to spill yet again. You were in big trouble, not even sure if you would ever make it out of this cabin alive.

“Save your tears for later. You will need them.” Tom said sternly, retrieving more ropes from a drawer.

Draco’s rough fingers expertly loosened the ties around your wrists and ankles, holding your arms behind your back so the brunette could fasten the ropes again, rubbing your sore skin before doing so. Before you could react, the blonde yanked you up by your hair, other hand around your throat so you were pressed flush against his chest, unable to move with your hands tied behind your back as Tom knelt down to also bind your ankles together.

“Want her on her knees.” The brunette instructed, Draco's knee pressed into the back of yours, sending you crashing to the floor, your knees hitting the ground hard. It was all so fucked up, yet you couldn’t help but feel excitement rush through your body at the thought of what they may make you do.

Tom backhanded you once on each side, leaving a burning sensation behind. “Already forgotten we can hear your thoughts? You shouldn’t be fucking enjoying this, whore.”

The blonde kept you in your position, his knee pressing into your spine as Tom made quick work of your clothes, basically tearing them off your body. You were breathing heavily, wincing at the sound of the ripping fabric. It was sensation overload – it all happened so quickly, one second you were on the chair, the next on the floor, Tom degrading you while tying you up, ripping the clothes from your skin.

Tom shook his head. “No bra? Merlin help you.” His hand reached for your tits, rolling your hardened nipples between his fingers. Soft gasps left your parted lips, watching his fingers do magic.

“Pathetic. So damn pathetic. Bet you do this with Potter every other day, huh?”

“Jealous?” You asked, biting your lip playfully, finding Tom’s darkening eyes. Where you got the confidence from? You didn’t know. But you decided it would be even more fun if you riled them up just a little bit.

“Going to fucking regret this.” The brunette sneered, fetching some type of metal clamps from the same drawer he had gotten the ropes from. You had never seen anything remotely close to that before, curious what he was going to do with them.

Oh.

“That hurts!” You complained, eyebrows furrowing.

Draco knelt down behind you, his hand circling your throat, forcing your head onto his shoulder. “You better be quiet and take it. If you decide to act like a brat, you get treated like one.”

The brunette repeated the process with the other breast, leaving you sore and wanting.

They then switched positions, Draco standing right in front of you. “Undo the zipper. With your mouth if you have to.”

Eagerly, you did as you were told, the blonde finishing the job, his painfully hard length on full display right in front of you. “Get to work.” Tom demanded, shoving your face towards the blonde. Another, softer slap to your cheek. “Open your mouth.” Draco instructed, slapping his cock onto your lips. You did as you were told. Sucking and twirling your tongue around his sensitive tip at first, before eagerly taking more of him inside of you. Tom pushed you down on the blonde’s length, who picked up his pace, thrusting in and out of your mouth. You choked around him, not able to take him entirely, to the dismay of the blonde. “Fucking open up that throat for me, slut.” He sneered, tip hitting the back of your mouth. Tom held you there, and you were sure if it were just a few seconds longer you would have passed out from the lack of oxygen in your body.

The blonde pulled out, letting you catch your breath. “You like this too, don’t you? Damn right you do.”, shoving his length back inside of you without any warning. He was rough – merciless to be exact. Your gagging and choking seemed to turn him on even more, relentlessly abusing your throat. Tom pushed you down one more time, his other hand choking you, the tip of your nose touching Draco’s lower abdomen. Your eyelids got heavy, vision going blurry before the brunette yanked your head back. You coughed heavily, your head resting on Tom’s shoulder.

“Two minutes break, then it’s my turn.” He whispered into your ear, cupping your breasts. Your head shot up, whining at the soreness of them. “Please take them off.” You croaked, your tear-soaked face turning into a pout.

“Beg for it.”

“Please, it hurts. Please take them off.”

Draco and Tom exchanged a glance, the blonde then removing the clamps. You exhaled sharply, the stinging pain spreading through your entire body. Tom then switched positions with Draco again, lifting your chin. “What do you say when we give you something you want?” He murmured, meeting your teary eyes. “T-Thank you!” You sobbed, relaxing your head on the blonde, closing your eyes.

“Come on, open up.” You heard the brunette say, your eyelids fluttering open. Reluctantly, you did, and he let you adjust to him before setting a steady pace. Surprisingly, he didn’t go as rough as Draco, yet still pushing your limits. “Look at this. Fucking soaking my cock, you filthy whore. Always so damn messy.” His words made your mind reel, solely focusing on pleasuring him. Tom soon pulled out with a grunt, a string of saliva connecting your lips to his throbbing dick.

“Listen to me.” Draco started.

You hummed in agreement, exhaustedly kneeling on the floor.

“If you behave well for the next step, you are done, alright?” You nodded. “Okay.”

Tom then repositioned you, ass up face down, arching your back. Your head rested on Draco’s lap, who sat down. “Going to fill two of your holes now. I expect you to behave and take it, or we will be here for a much longer. Got it?” The brunette explained, slowly sliding his cock through your folds, gathering the slick that had leaked from your sopping cunt. You were shivering in anticipation, eager to finally have him inside of you.

Slap.

You flinched, apologizing right away. “M’ sorry! Yes, I understand.” Their smacks were quite unforgiving.

“Better.”

Steadily, he pushed into your tight heat, stretching you out completely. While it hurt just a bit, pain soon turned into pleasure, feeling every single vein on his cock while it slammed in and out of your warm cunt. “Fuck, you are so tight and wet. This turns you on? You are pathetic. Fuck- so fucking- pathetic. Our needy whore.” He groaned, thrusting deeper now, his tip kissing your sensitive cervix. You felt your eyes roll back at the intense feeling, fully submitting to it. Draco then grabbed a fistful of your hair, shoving you down on his dick again. “Gonna suck me off while Tom fucks your filthy cunt. Merlin- that throat feels heavenly, so fucking tight.” The blonde hissed, having you choke around him, his fingers tangling in your hair.

It was rough. Intense. Overwhelming. Yet, you couldn’t get enough of them. You loathed loving this- Fuck, you shouldn’t. But damn, you did. Stretching you out so perfectly, degrading you just how you loved it, showing you what it meant to have all their attention you so desperately craved all these years ago. And now you finally had it- with both of them buried deep inside of you.

Barely able to breathe as Draco slipped in and out of your throat, Tom harshly smacked your ass cheeks, encouraging you to take the blonde as deep as you could.

“Fuck- m’ gonna come. Take it- take it all, whore. Show me how much you want my cum in that dirty mouth of yours.” He pinched your nose, holding your head flush against his lower abdomen as he spilled himself deep down your aching throat, making sure you swallow it all before he released you. Of course you did, greedily even.

As soon as he released you, you gasped for air, sucking in as much oxygen as you possibly could. Wiping your chin, soaked with a mixture of drool and cum with the back of your hand, you met the blonde’s gaze, who grinned sheepishly at you, shaking his head. “Such a filthy girl.”

You managed a sly smile, completely fucked out, inhaling sharply through your mouth.

Now, all you felt was Tom sinking his thick length in and out of you, your vision going blurry as he hit all the right spots inside of you. Soft groans came from behind you as his hips pistoned into yours, making you jolt forward with every thrust – just for him to pull you right back against his cock, having you take him completely. The intensity of his harsh treatment had spill tears, your mascara running down your cheeks. “Fucking keep crying for me, show me how good I am making you feel.” His words sent you spiralling, your walls fluttering around his dick.

“Feel you clenching me. I know how badly you want this, whore. Come on, concentrate. Concentrate and come, come all over this cock and you are done.” He sneered, one hand wandering underneath you to play with your breast.

“I- I can’t come without-“ you cried, your most sensitive spot burning for attention.

“Can’t come without having your needy clit taken care of, huh?” Tom mocked, delivering a harsh smack to your ass. He then grabbed a fistful of your hair, pulling you flush against his chest as he leaned into the side of your neck.

“Too bad, then.”

The brunette let go of your hair again, having you slump forward on the wooden floor with a soft cry.

A few more groans and sharp snaps of his hips and he filled you up, a warm sensation pooling deep inside of you. “Thank- thank you.” You said, wincing as he slowly pulled out of you. You felt sore – basically everywhere. Muscles aching, throat burning – it’s been a rough night. Draco knelt besides you, freeing you from the ropes, as you looked at him intently.

Standing up, saying you would return back to Hogwarts, Tom stopped you.

“Returning to your friends? The Order? Doesn’t seem like they care much about you. Letting you leave at night to follow two alleged Death Eaters all by yourself. Sounds more like they want you to die.”

“But you promised-“

“Who do you fucking belong to?” “Huh?” Slap. “Who?” Slap. “Tell me, who is it?” Slap.

“You, I belong to you!” You cried, a sharp pain radiating from your cheek, a red handprint visible on your delicate skin.

“That’s right, doll. No more contact with the Order from this day on. You are staying with us, here. I forbid you to go back.”

You opened your mouth to complain, yell at them, whatever. Again, the brunette interrupted you.

“Besides, you aren’t done yet.”

Your heart dropped. “I c-can’t anymore, please.”

He shook his head. “It doesn’t involve Draco or me directly. Come here.”

Though completely drained, you still followed his command. He guided you towards him, having you hover over- his boot?

“You have three minutes to make yourself come on my boot. If you can’t do it, no orgasm for you tonight.”

It was so wrong. So humiliating in a way. Yet, you took the offer.

Sitting down on his boot, you eagerly ground on it, holding onto Tom’s calves for leverage. He didn’t do anything – only watch you hungrily. And you tried – tried so hard to finish. But you were tired, your muscles not wanting to cooperate with you. As soon as you felt a little spark forming in your lower stomach, you held onto it, concentrating solely on the rough material rubbing against your puffy clit. It grew, and grew, and grew – and when it was time to release the pent-up desire and need to reach your own climax, the brunette pulled you off his boot.

“Three minutes are over.”

There was that arrogant smirk you hated so much again. You could have killed him right there. “You can’t be serious! I was so close!” You complained. Though, the only thing he seemed to care about was the mess you had left behind his footwear.

“What a pathetic slut you are. Look at the fucking mess you made.” His rough hands met the back of your head, pushing your face down onto the black leather, which was all sticky with your mixed juices, left from your desperate attempt to make yourself come. “Lick them clean. All nice and shiny just like they were before you decided to make them filthy.” Tom spat, looking down at you, grinning at your spent form.

There was absolutely no way you would do that. “Keep dreaming, Riddle.”

He scoffed, amused, shaking his head. Confused by the sudden change in demeanor, you must have stared at him for too long. It changed into something hard, unreadable again.

“You are staying.”

“I am sorry for spying but please-“ your voice cracked, a fresh tear running down your cheek.

“We don’t care about that. But you have to stay. It’s important.” Draco added, putting a towel on the drawer. They both got dressed as you sat there, still naked.

“Take a shower, get warm. The cabin is warded, you won't be able to exit is without any of us accompanying you. No complaining.” The brunette stated, closing his coat, Death Eater Mask in his hand.

“Where are you going?” You asked, following them.

“Death Eater business.” They both answered, like it was the most normal thing in the world.

“You can’t just-“

Draco was first to kiss your forehead, walking out of the door, putting on the mask. Tom followed, tenderly placing another kiss on your skin. He as well exited, not looking back to you as they disapparated.

“Come back! You can’t leave me here!” You yelled, crying. It was true what they said, the door wouldn’t even budge, windows sealed shut.

But why did the sudden affection? Why did their behaviour change so abruptly? It all confused you. Deciding to make the best of the situation you took a shower, rubbing shampoo in your scalp and massaging scented oil into your sore muscles.

They even left you some clothes to wear.

By that, you realized had planned to keep you all along, never intending to let you go.

You were on your own, in the fangs of Death Eaters.

You and your stupid curiosity.

This ending calls for a part two, doesn’t it?

[literaryvein-reblogs]

Do you have any notes on hair and hairstyles by any chance?

Writing Notes: Hairstyles

Some writing tips to describe your character's hair:

Frame your character’s face with a hairstyle that reflects their story. A crewcut might signify a military soldier or someone who likes to be in control. A ponytail or pigtails might indicate a young character. Describe a character’s hair color—black hair, dark hair, brunette, redhead, blonde, gray, or white—in interesting ways instead of just stating the shade. It makes a difference whether your character dyes their hair or keeps it its natural shade. Describe the length of their hair. A confident businesswoman might have short or shoulder-length hair. A musician might have longer hair. Match your character’s hairstyle with their personality.

Make facial hair an element of a character’s style. How a male character keeps his facial hair is telling. If he’s constantly clean-shaven, he might go to a regular corporate job. A bit of stubble can signify a more casual career. From a beard to sideburns to a goatee, facial hair helps paint a picture of a male character and can help represent their life and what they do.

Write detailed character descriptions. Visualize a character in your own mind. Make them three dimensional by fleshing out both the character’s personality and physical appearance. Write down their physical details like hairstyle and hair color—do they have brown hair, blond hair, or dark hair? Describe how they move through the world and hint at what their body language and mannerisms reveal.

Here are some words to help you select more precise language and improve the clarity in your writing:

Descriptive Words to Describe Hair

Hair Texture. Relates to the circumference of individual hairs as well as the curl pattern and general state of the hair, with regards to how it looks and feels.

body, bouncy, bristly, brittle, bushy, coarse, crinkly, delicate, downy, fine, flat, fluffy, frizzy, fuzzy, glossy, lank, limp, listless, luxuriant, luxurious, medium, nappy, no body, puffy, rough, satiny, silky, sleek, smooth, soft, sticky, stiff, straight, straw-like, supple, touchable, velvety, wavy, wiry

Hair Thickness. This means the same thing as hair density. There are a number of terms for how thick a person’s hair is.

lush, scraggly, sparse, stringy, thick, thin, voluminous, wispy, wooly

Hair Styles or Cuts. Properly describing how hair is cut or styled is critical in describing the appearance of a character in a story or the subject of a work of nonfiction.

afro, a-line, angled, asymmetrical, bangs, beehive, blunt, bob, bouffant, bowl cut, braided, braids, brushed back, bun, buzzed, center part, chignon, chopped, choppy, clipped, coils, comb over, corkscrew curls, cornrows, crew cut, curled, dreadlocks, ducktail, emo, extensions, face-framing, feathered, fishtail braid, flat top, flyaway, french braids, french twist, fringe, Jheri curl, kinked, layered, long layers, loose, military cut, mohawk, mullet, natural, pageboy, parted, pigtails, pin curls, pixie, plaited, pompadour, ponytail, Rasta, rat tail, ratted, ringlets, shag, shaved, side part, slicked down, spiked, spiky, spirals, springy, stacked, straightened, swept back, swept to the side, swept up, teased, topknot, trimmed, twisted, undercut, up, updo, waterfall braids, weave, wedge, wings, wrapped

Hair Length. Hair can vary greatly in length. Choosing the right descriptive word for hair length helps readers get a better picture of the character or person about whom you are writing.

cascading, chin length, close cropped, cropped, ear length, flowing, long, medium length, mid-back length, neck length, short, shoulder length, tailbone length, trailing, waist length

Hair Color or Tints. Since there are many hair colors in different tones, some natural and some not, it’s really important to choose the right descriptive word for hair color.

ash brown, auburn, black, bleached blond, blonde, blue, bluish, bottle blonde, brown, brunette, burgundy, burnished, chestnut, coppery, dark, flaxen, ginger, golden blonde, gray, green, honey, jet black, light, mousy, multi-colored, natural blonde, oil slick, ombre, peroxide blonde, pink, platinum, purple, rainbow, raven, red, salt and pepper, silver, strawberry blonde, streaked, sun-kissed, sun-streaked, wheat blonde, white, yellow, yellowing

Treated Hair. There are a number of treatments people can use to alter the appearance of their hair.

bleached, body wave, brassy, colored, conditioned, deep conditioned, dyed,frosted, highlighted, highlights, lowlights, permed, relaxed, smoothing, tinted

Messy Hair. There are a number of ways to convey to readers that a person has messy hair. Whether the individual’s hair is messy due to a lack of care, general unruliness, or having been engaged in activity that caused it to become messy, choose the right word so readers will understand.

bad hair day, bedhead, clumpy, disarray, disheveled, drooping, knotted, matted, overgrown, shaggy, snarled, tangled, tousled, towheaded, uncombed, uncontrollable, unkempt, unmanageable, unruly, unstyled, untamed, untidy, windblown, windswept

Neatly Styled Hair. Some people take great pains to ensure their hair is the exact opposite of messy. Use these terms when you want to describe someone with neatly styled hair.

blown out, coiffed, coiffured, done, neat, runway-ready, tamed, tidy, well-groomed

More Ways to Describe the Appearance of Hair. The categories listed above aren’t all inclusive when it comes to describing hair.

beautiful, brushed, classy, clean, combed, damp, dirty, dripping, dull, elegant, enviable, fashionable, filthy, gorgeous, greasy, healthy, luscious, lustrous, nourished, shiny, singed, slick, soaked, squeaky clean, stylish, sweaty, trendy, vibrant, voluminous, wet

Words to Describe Hair Problems. There are a number of different hair problems. If the person or character you are writing about has a visible issue with his or her hair, be sure to choose the best word to describe it.

alopecia, bald, balding, bald patch, broken, damaged, dandruff, dry, flaky, fried, hair loss, lice, needs a touch-up, nits, oily, overly processed, pattern baldness, receding, roots are showing, shedding, split ends, thinning, thin on top, widow’s peak

Hair Accessories. Thoroughly describing a person or character’s appearance may require giving some information about hair accessories the person is wearing. Choose the best term to describe any items placed in or on the individual’s hair.

ball cap, barrette, beret, bobby pin, bow, butterfly clip, chopsticks, elastic, feather, flower, hair clip, hairpin, hat, headband, headscarf, kerchief, ribbon, scarf, scrunchie, side comb, snap clip, sweatband, tiara, tieback

Names of Hair Tools. When you need to describe what someone uses to style their hair, be sure to accurately describe the type of tool the individual uses.

blow dryer, clippers, comb, curling iron, diffuser, dryer, duckbill clips, fine-tooth comb, flat iron, hairbrush, hot rollers, rollers, round brush, scissors, thinning shears

Sources: 1 2 3 ⚜ More: Notes ⚜ Writing Resources PDFs ⚜ Facial Hair

Hope this helps with your writing!

[decembermidnight]

Learn your place

Summary: You challenge Joel's authority at a meeting. He does not take it well. In fact, he'll teach you where your place is.

Pairing: Joel Miller x f!reader

Word count: 4.8k

Warnings: smut, 18+ mdni, dom!Joel, brat tamer!Joel, age gap, wet hair Joel, dry humping, unprotected sex, oral (m receiving), edging and orgasm denial (f), humiliation kink, degradation kink, praise kink, lots of dirty talk, spitting, face slapping, creampie, bathtub sex, mirror sex, cum eating

A/N: This is the first time I'm writing for Joel and I'm so excited! This is loosely based on a dream my bestie had. I decided to turn it into a Joel oneshot and gift it to her (and to all of you, of course) for Christmas. As always, comments and reblogs are very appreciated. Divider: @saradika-graphics

Masterlist - read on Ao3

They sent you to meet the Boston group immediately out of the quarantine zone. They came all the way here to settle the score with your rival gang, who tried to fuck with them too.

You set up this meeting to deal with those motherfuckers together and, why not, maybe even establish a new partnership.

There's three of them, one has an angry scowl on his face - you notice him immediately. You can see by the way he walks that he's fuming, but what really gives it away it's his eyes. You've never seen eyes so expressive - looks that could kill. He’s just your type - dangerous, older man.

"You must be Joel." you cross your arms and try to look tough.

His dark eyes scout you as you try to appear as impassive as possible. You notice the way he's looking at you from head to toe, intrigued.

“I am.” he answers, a subtle smirk on his face.

"Good. The others are waiting for us. Let's go."

You sneak back into the QZ and then to the headquarters of your group, an apartment building on the outskirts.

While you have the meeting in the basement, you feel Joel's gaze on your body. You try not to look at him too much but it's hard. He's magnetic and charming, sitting with his arms crossed right in front of you. You keep exchanging looks as the others talk.

Right when your group leader says something about what happened with the rival gang, he starts talking.

"Just tell me where their hideout is - I will go there now and kill them all like the rats that they are." he says casually, shrugging.

"That’s not a good idea." you instinctively reply in a quiet voice.

"What the fuck do you know about this anyway?" he snaps at you, not enjoying the way you challenge his authority.

"You can’t kill everyone who steps in your way." you try to be superior and keep calm, not wanting to give in to anger yet.

"That's the only reason why I'm here." he growls back.

"If you do so, FEDRA will be on us and will ruin all of our plans, including yours. I have worked my ass off to be where we are now and I will not allow that." you stand up from your chair and look at him from head to toe "Now shut up, and listen to what we’re going to do."

"Are you giving me orders?!" he snarls as he stands up and starts walking towards you.

You two look at each other in the eyes, making the room atmosphere unbearable for everyone except the two of you. The others are silent, feeling the tension, the anger, the looks you exchange.

"Hey, you two. Calm down. We came here to find a solution, not to fight between us." Tommy, Joel’s brother, intervenes, but it has now become a challenge to hold your gaze into each other’s eyes.

"Joel. Let's hear what they have to say. They know the territory and the people better than we do." he adds.

Joel looks at you from head to toe. "Fine." he growls as he goes sitting back in his chair.

The rest of the group goes on talking about the best strategy to adopt, but you two are too busy glaring at each other to even bother paying attention to what they’re saying.

After what it felt like years, a compromise was reached. Joel, his group and a couple of your guys are supposed to go there and scare them off, just to give them a warning, an ultimatum.

Everyone finally leaves the building and you remain alone to complete some minor tasks before heading back home.

It’s only a matter of minutes - you’re almost done with your assignment when a heavy storm breaks out and not long after, you hear a loud explosion coming from the city.

You’re just about to go check the window when you hear a loud banging on the door and immediately go see who that might be.

It’s Joel, to your surprise, and he’s completely drenched due to the storm outside. You must admit he looks even better with wet hair.

"Fucking Fireflies blew up a building and now FEDRA is patrolling the streets. We split up. This house was the closest to where I was. I need a place for the night." his voice is authoritative - he is not requesting it, he is demanding it.

"Look who came back begging for my help after showing me no respect at all. What if I say no?" you cross your arms and lean on the doorframe, a smirk on your face.

He scoffs and shakes his head.

"So willing to spare those fuckers' lives, but when it comes to help your new ally, you refuse?"

"So… you're my ally now?" you taunt him.

You see that look on his face again, his eyes full with rage staring back at yours.

"Are you having fun?" his voice is firm and cold.

You chuckle, seeing how quickly he gets pissed off.

"You can bet I am. Come with me, I'll show you a spare room we have."

He nods and follows you upstairs.

"That'll do?" you ask as he looks around the small apartment, hands on his hips, knee tilted out. He gives you another nod in assent.

Just as you turn around to leave, you feel a hand grabbing your wrist firmly.

"Hey. Where do you think you're going?!" he pins you to the wall, his left hand leaning on it so that you can’t escape from him. You hold your gaze and look at him in his dark, angry, lustful eyes.

"Did you enjoy speaking to me like that earlier?" his voice is firm and low-pitched, almost a growl.

"W-what?" you are caught by surprise at the way he grabbed you and at the way he’s addressing you right now, and you don’t know how to react.

"Did you really think I'd let it pass by? After the way you spoke to me during the meeting?"

You are speechless, you suddenly feel hot, your breathing is getting labored and your chest heaves due to the abrupt tension filling the room, but you still try to challenge him with your eyes, glaring at him like earlier, not wanting to appear weak in front of him.

"Little brat. Disrespecting me like that, speaking to me like that, and now looking at me like that. You think you're tough?"

You keep holding your gaze, staring directly at him.

"Stop it. Now." you try to act stiff and impassive, but the intense way he’s looking at you is making you falter.

"Still trying to speak to me like that?! There's nobody here to impress, no one can protect you here." he goads you, his face getting closer to yours.

"Protect me from who?"

"From me. Little brat." he grabs you by the hair and starts kissing you in an angry, passionate way. You lean into the kiss as he sticks his tongue in your mouth, welcoming it and doing the same with yours, savoring the faint whisky taste on his lips. You can't help letting out a moan at how much you're enjoying it. When he hears that, he pushes you further against the wall and starts to rip your clothes off your body feverishly, beginning with your shirt. His lips trail down to your neck as he unhooks your bra and unbuttons your jeans, yanking them over your ass together with your underwear in one swift move.

"J-Joel..." you sigh when he runs his hands all over your naked, quivering body, feeling how soft your skin is, playing with one of your hardened nipples as his teeth sink into your neck.

He turns you around, slamming you against the wall.

"Shut up. You need to learn your place. I will show you where you belong." he growls lustfully.

"H-how dare you… Asshole-" you let out in an aroused sigh as he brings your arms behind your back, holding them still in the tight grasp of his hand.

"I told you to shut the fuck up. You don't get to speak to me like that, do you understand?!"

He gets close to your ear.

"Speak when you're spoken to. I said - do you understand?" he whispers darkly as he lets his right hand slide between your legs and starts touching your clit, feeling how wet you got for him already.

"Y-yes..." you moan.

"I knew it." he smirks "Acting all tough and badass earlier, but you're dripping between your legs. This pussy is begging to be fucked, isn't it?" he rasps, his hot breath on your neck as he slides two fingers inside of your achingly needy cunt, earning a desperate groan of pleasure from you when he does. You can’t hide anymore how much you want this.

"Yes, it is." he growls in your ear, answering himself, pleased as he hears your breathy moans when he draws circles on your clit, his fingers soaked in your arousal up to the knuckle.

“Now let me see how obedient you are and take your clothes off." he orders as he keeps teasing your slit.

You step out of your boots and jeans in a rush, now completely naked at his mercy.

He then grabs you by the arm and takes you to the bathroom, forcing you to kneel in the tub as he opens the tap to fill it with warm water.

He starts to slowly unbutton his flannel shirt as he has his gaze locked on yours. You look at his face, at his dark eyes that are devouring you in hatred and lust.

When he starts to unbutton his jeans, you divert your eyes from his and look at the bulge in his underwear.

"Hey. Eyes on me." he lifts your chin with his hand, but it’s hard to resist when his erection is right in front of your face.

“What are your eyes looking at, hm? I saw that. Disrespectful brat. I believe I said to look at me.”

You try to mumble some words but you can’t speak, too aroused to even think of an answer.

“Answer me. Were you looking at this?” he grips his cock tight in his hand, and you try not to look away from him this time.

“Look at it.” he grabs you by your hair and forces you to look at the deliciously thick cock in his hand as he slowly strokes it before your face.

“Do you want it?” he coos darkly.

You nod lightly, entranced by the way his hand slides on the thick shaft, following its movement with your eyes.

“I didn’t hear you.” he rasps as he lowers himself to your level and closes the tap.

“Yes, Joel, I want it. Give it to me.”

“Still giving me orders? What did I tell you about giving me orders?”

“Please, Joel, give it to me.” you plead.

“Hm, that’s better.” he says as he walks into the bathtub and sits.

He grabs your waist and makes you straddle him, and then he starts to kiss you again. He cups your face with his hands as he sticks his tongue in your mouth. You abandon yourself to him completely, following his lead and feeling his erection brushing against your lower belly.

"Here." he grabs you by the hips so that you can start grinding against him. You let out a moan when you feel the tip of his cock brushing against your clit and keep dry humping him to give yourself pleasure.

"Look at you - getting off on my dick like the desperate slut that you are. Hmm? You like it?"

"Fuck. Yes." you let out in an aroused sigh as you keep rolling your hips on his.

His hands keep guiding your movements as you go on kissing each other.

His lips start to trail down your neck, covering it in kisses that make you groan uncontrollably as you keep dry humping his cock.

He grabs his cock in his hand as the other one pushes your butt down to make you sit on it. You feel his thick girth stretching your needy walls, feeling every ridge and vein as you slowly sink down on it, making you both moan looking at each other in the eyes.

Once he’s inside of you completely, you start riding him, your hands on his shoulders as the water ripples and sloshes and he looks at you, a dark smirk on his face when he sees how much you're enjoying it. You get close to him to moan on his mouth, to see his reaction. He gets close, so close to your lips, but that's when you pull away to tease him. He growls, grabbing your hair with his hand and bringing you to him, taking what he wants, sticking his daring tongue in your mouth one more time. The longing, passionate way he’s kissing you and his thick cock stretching your walls bring you close to the edge already. You feel the tingle of the orgasm approaching, your breath gets even more laboured and you start trembling. He notices, feeling you shake under his touch, panting on his lips.

"What?! Already? No. Not yet. Don't you even think about it." he digs his fingers in your butt cheek to push you further down on his cock, impaling you, and grabs your head with his other arm, holding you still against him as he starts to brutally pound you, making your eyes cross.

"Fuck! You're gonna make me come!" you scream.

"Hold it for me." he replies in a low grunt in between thrusts.

“Joel-” you plead in between moans.

"Not yet. Not yet."

You moan louder as your grip on his shoulders tightens and your eyes squeeze due to the pleasure.

"Hey. Eyes on me." he reminds you.

You open your eyes and your nails start scratching his skin in a desperate attempt to obey his order, making him grunt.

"I can't Joel, I can't, please-"

"Stop it. I said not yet."

“But I’m so close!” you whimper.

He sighs as he slips out of you, leaving you needy and empty, making you whine as you feel your climax fading away as you were right on the edge.

"Get up. Now."

You comply whimpering as you both get out of the tub, now in front of each other.

"On your knees." he orders, and you obey immediately.

He lets out a dark chuckle when he sees how obedient you got.

You look at him in the eyes as he grabs his cock in his hand and trails the tip on your lips, only for you to give small licks to it, tasting your arousal on it.

He pushes its tip in your mouth and you welcome it, avidly sucking it while looking at him, smirking at you. He grabs the back of your head and pushes his cock into your throat, making your eyes squeeze shut.

"What is it? What is it, huh? Acting like a badass earlier and now you can't even take it all in your throat?" he keeps your head still, cupping it in his hands, as he thrusts into your mouth getting off at how welcoming and yielding you have suddenly become. He pulls your head away from his cock and you gasp for air, your face is drenched in spit and precum and you have tears in the corners of your eyes.

"Look at me. Oh, you don't act like a badass anymore, huh? Where's that superior look you gave me during the meeting? Where is it? You looked at me from head to toe but damn, look at you now. I want to fuck you. You need to learn your place."

He kneels before you, lowering himself at your level.

"I want to fuck you." he growls articulating his words as he passes his thumb on your lips, cleaning the spit from your mouth.

“Now get up.” he orders as he pushes his thumb in your mouth and you suck it, feeling your needy cunt clench when you hear him saying those things as he looks you in the eyes.

When you stand up, he grabs your chin and kisses you rabidly and lustfully as you walk towards the bed, where he pushes you down and lays on top of you, leaning on his elbow as he grabs his cock in his hand.

“Let’s see if you still act like a badass now.” he slides his cock inside of you, smirking at the way your lips part in ecstasy and at the moan you let out, your eyes opening wide at how delighted being so full of him makes you feel.

Once he’s deep inside of you, he starts to slowly thrust in and out of you. He cups your face with his hands and gets close, so close that you can feel his hot breath on your lips.

“Can you feel how wet you are?” he whispers.

You nod, smiling at him, hearing the obscene sounds your drenched pussy makes as it helplessly sucks his thick cock in, clenching around it in ecstasy, making you roll your eyes.

When he sees that, he immediately sets a brutal, devastating pace. You’re enjoying it so much that you can’t hold back your screams and can’t even look straight anymore, your eyes squeezing shut in bliss.

"Fucking look at you. Slut. You can't even keep your eyes open." he slaps you in the face and makes you smile and clench around him, so unbelievably turned on at the humiliating way he’s treating you.

"Your dick is too good." you mumble.

"Hmm? Too good? Show me. Open your mouth."

You do, obeying his command instinctively, sticking your tongue out for him, and he spits inside. You moan provocatively as you savour his saliva in your mouth and then swallow it.

"You like being fucked and treated like the fucking whore that you are, don't you?" he grabs you by the jaw, forcing it open, bringing your face close to his and spitting in your mouth once again. You lick your lips greedily, humming and looking at him in the eyes as he treats you with such disdain.

“Enjoying this dick so much, you can’t even answer me. What would little miss strong independent woman from earlier say if she saw you now, hm? What would she say?” he goads you, but the only result he gets is you getting even wetter and louder.

He gets up on his knees in front of you as he spreads your legs to bury his cock even deeper inside of you. He grabs your arm to lift you, so that you’re now straddling his lap, his cock pleasurably rubbing against your clit as you groan helplessly. He’s holding you tight in his arms as you wrap yours around his shoulders. He passes a hand in his hair to comb his wet hair out of the way. You divert your eyes from his to admire his thick bicep as he does, biting your lip when you get a glimpse of that, but he grabs your chin.

“Look at me, fucking look at me.” he growls “Where is the thug smuggler from earlier, hm? Where is she? You wanted to look smart in front of everyone, but where are you now? Where the fuck are you now? Who the fuck do you think you are? You wanted to act bossy with me. With me. You need to learn your place when you talk to me. Understand?”

You nod as he keeps talking to you like that, beginning to feel the tingle of your orgasm between your legs.

"Come on now. Let me see how good you are at riding my dick." he smirks as he lays down on the bed so that now you’re on top, your hands on the sides of his head and his fingers digging tight into your hips. You immediately start riding him, feeling how wet you are - your arousal drenching the both of you, making everything slick and slippery and hot. You let your hips roll, feeling his cock sliding in and out of you, your clit brushing his skin, getting you on the edge of your orgasm again. You try to keep everything inside, hoping he won’t notice how fast riding his dick gets you embarrassingly close in no time.

“I can see you’re almost there. You can’t hold it anymore, can you?”

“I can’t - can’t take it anymore, Joel.” you stutter.

“I told you no. Not yet. Hold it.” he orders in a calm, low voice that has the opposite effect, getting you even closer.

“Joel, Joel, I can’t-”

He grabs your hips so that your pussy is now grinding on his cock, making it a torture to hold it in. You can tell he’s having fun with it, looking at your desperate face, hearing your pleading voice, feeling you clamp around him.

“Joel-” your hands curl into fists, grabbing the bed sheet under him out of desperation.

“No, you can’t hold it. I can see that. You can’t. You’re such a whore.” he mocks you.

"Please, please let me come." you plead him.

He smirks as he looks at you.

"Beg me."

"I beg you, Joel. I'm begging you. Please, let me come. Please, please please-"

"Begging me?" he chuckles "Couldn’t ever imagine the proud woman I saw earlier downstairs begging me to let her come. Give you a little bit of dick and look at you - a begging girl? Holy fuck, you're pathetic."

"Please, please, please" you keep chanting, even more turned on by how he's treating you.

"Fine. If you want it so much, you can have it. You can't help it, hm? You can't help coming on my dick. Let me feel how tight your little pussy gets for me. But don't you even think it’ll be over. I'm not done with you. Now come, fucking slut. Come. Come!" he snarls.

You finally let it all out and come on his dick, screaming loudly, spasming around him uncontrollably. You try to keep your eyes on him, but they can't avoid rolling up.

"Coming so fucking hard you can't even look at me. Whore." he chuckles darkly.

As the feeling of the orgasm slowly fades out, you pant and stay still to catch your breath as he keeps pounding you.

"More. Please, Joel, more." you let out in your post orgasmic haze, smiling at him, your eyes nearly closed, feeling blissful and dizzy.

"More?! You want more?!" he snickers "Aren't you an insatiable whore?"

"Don't stop fucking me, Joel. Don't stop."

"Still giving me orders, I see."

"Please, don't stop."

"So pathetic. Bet you want to come again. Do you want it?"

"Yes. Yes, please."

"Then obey me."

You nod.

"Let me see it. Let me see that beautiful pussy getting pounded by my cock."

You lean back and stand on your feet and hands, legs spread wide open to give him the best visual, just like he wants.

"Good girl. Now ride it."

You start riding it and he grabs your hips to guide you - he lets his dick slip out almost completely, only leaving the tip inside for a few seconds. You look at him, shaking and whimpering at the lack of his cock. When he hears that, his gaze goes from your pussy to your eyes, and that’s when he brings your body down, slamming it deep inside of you as he watches you throw your head back due to the pleasure of feeling so full of him once again.

"Hey. I told you to keep your eyes on me." he grabs your chin and slaps you in the face.

He keeps guiding your movements by holding you by the hips to help you move up and down in conjunction with his thrusts.

"Will you look at that? So beautiful." he starts to touch your clit with his thumb and you lose it completely, letting out a loud, breathy groan.

"How badly do you want this?"

"So. Fucking. Bad."

He keeps rubbing your clit as he thrusts into you relentlessly, until you feel your orgasm approaching once again.

Just when you're about to come, right when you’re on the edge, he stops.

"What the fuck, Joel?!" you snarl at him and he smirks in response.

"Look at the angry whore from earlier. I was wondering if she was still with us. Here. Here's your orgasm, you needy slut."

He starts rubbing your clit again, driving you over the edge in no time, making you come. He looks at your pussy spasming around his dick as you groan loudly, completely out of control.

Once the feeling fades out and you come back from your high, he puts the very same thumb he used to make you come in your mouth.

"Suck it."

You do, brushing it with your tongue, licking it clean, savoring your orgasm as he keeps railing you.

“Come on. I’m not done with you. Stand up.”

Your legs are shaky as you obey his order. He brings you to the bathroom, bending you over on the sink, in front of the mirror and immediately sticks his dick inside of you so hard that air leaves your lungs in a breathy moan and stays still.

“Fuck yourself on my cock.” he orders, his gaze locked on the mirror.

You start to move your body to obey his order and feel his dick slipping in and out of you. You bite your lip moaning provocatively as you do.

“What a fucking whore. You make me want to wreck you.”

“Please, Joel, do. Wreck me.” you plead groaning as you keep fucking yourself on his dick.

He grabs you by your hips, pushing his cock deep inside of you, and resumes the brutal pace from earlier, making you roll your eyes.

"Fuck. What now? Look at you. Look how pathetic you are when I fuck you. Look at yourself. Did you really think you could go against me like that? You looked at me with those eyes, such a strong woman. Now look at you, look at yourself in the mirror."

His dick is so good you can't even lift your head.

"I said look." he grabs you by the hair and pushes your face against the mirror.

You’re an absolute mess - wet hair sticks to your face, flustered and hot as he keeps giving you his cock.

"Where is that gaze now? Where is it?! Where is that gaze now that my cock is inside of you?! Do you like how good I’m fucking you, huh?! Your pussy is so wet, I'm going fucking insane! You are enjoying it so much, I can feel it, aren't you?! Tell me. Speak, whore."

"A-ah... Y-yes I am" you can only mumble.

"Say that you're Joel Miller's whore as you look at yourself."

"I am Joel Miller's whore." you drawl, subjugated by the way he’s dominating you, taking genuine pleasure in saying that.

He starts to rub your clit with his fingers, making you roll your eyes and smile.

"Who is making you come so fucking hard?"

"You!" you scream, on the edge of your orgasm already, panting and shaking in anticipation.

"Scream my name when you come, fucking whore."

You can only let out the first syllable of his name before it’s turned into a loud scream. He holds your hair tight in his grasp so that you’re forced to look at yourself as you come.

He grunts when he feels how tight you get for him, strangling his thick cock in your grasp.

"You can't even speak properly, you look like a completely different person from before. Don't you feel ashamed, slut?! Oh fuck, your wet pussy is making me come. Do you want it? Do you want my cum?? Speak, whore." he rasps.

"I want it. I want it, Joel. Please, I want all of your cum." you pant in bliss.

"I can't fucking take it anymore, I'm coming. I can't stop... Your pussy is so fucking perfect. I want it. I want to fill you up with my cum. I wanna put you back in your place. You won't be so daring in looking at me like that next time. Let me give you a hard lesson. I-I can't-" his voice is hot and desperate as he gets close to his own orgasm.

His grip on your hair and hip tightens and he snarls as he comes, giving you a few hard thrusts, pushing his cock deep inside of you and filling your wrecked pussy with his hot cum, pulsing and throbbing inside of you, headily panting in your ear.

He slips out of you slowly, making you look at his cum dripping out of you. He collects it with his fingers and brings it to your mouth.

“Eat it.” he orders.

You immediately welcome them into your mouth, looking at yourself in the mirror as you taste the salty bitterness of you two blended together, humming in pleasure as he pushes his digits in your mouth.

“Yeah - that's what you fucking get. Don’t you ever, ever, disrespect me like that again. I hope you did learn your place.”

[callmeconsch]

I want a dom and I want them to do weird "medical" experiments on me.

Not even sexual ones, like of course they would make me horny as fuck but just like them looking at me? OBSERVING me? Writing shit down on their note pad about me??

Wow. Like make me kneel for you and document how long i can hold the position without shaking. Document when my breath gets shaky or how long it takes for me to give up.

Say some naughty shit to me at random times of the day and note down what gets me the most red and flustered. When am i the most perceptive to the filthy shit you say to me?

How long does it take until you can train me into a new kink? What method works best? Denial and edging and only letting me cum to the new fucked up thing ur trying? Or just complete overstimulation? How many days does it take for me to beg for the new filth to be done to me.

God, write down what gets me wet the fastest. After every time you try a form of stimulation for 2 minutes we are done and you take all my vitals. My blood pressure and pulse, my temperature, you take a pic of me to compare how red I got. Check how big and hard my Tcock has gotten. You inspect how wet my cunt is and maybe even the taste. But not for my enjoyment. For your important medical research of course.

Because i am just another little lab rat to you. A good little lab rat, who gets rewards for taking part in your tests willingly of course. But always just your little test subject.

[mcytblrsource]

YEARLY MCYTBLR RECAP: 2024 EDITION

MCYTblr is a very large space if you see any missing events, exchange, or something else please send us an ask!

JANUARY

EVENTS:

FitPac Week Hermitcraft Rare Pair Week Wormman Week Dream SMP Sixteenth Day Event MCYT T4T Week SpiderBit Week Treebark Title Swap MCYT Fanfiction Appreciation Week MCYT Physical Disability Week

ZINES AND MAPs:

Flamekeeper Zine Limited Life MAP Tribute to Jellie MAP

FEBRUARY

EVENTS:

MCYT Build Month Etoiles Week Fitpac Valentine's Drabble Fest Dream SMP Sixteenth Day Event: Love Month Techza Week MCYT Yuri Week - Valentines Vylenix Week

GIFT EXCHANGES: (Based off of the beginning of posting period)

QSMP Secret Valentine QSMP Valentine's Gift Exchange MCYT Valentines MCYT Dead Dove Kink Meme Driving After Dark 2

ZINES AND MAPs:

Empires Rainbow Zine Convex Matryoshka MAP

MARCH

EVENTS:

QSMP Month Dream SMP Eras Event SMPLIVE Bingo Shubble Support Day QSMP Language Day Decked Out 2 Writing Challenge Week MCYT Aro Week Skizzleman Week SpiderBit Week Vitalasubzam Week Grumbo Week Dream SMP Sixteenth Day Event: Themes Month MCYT Underdogs Event

GIFT EXCHANGES:

MCYT Recursive Dream SMP Rarepair Big Bang

ZINES AND MAPs:

Isla y Ovos Zine

APRIL

EVENTS:

Mumscarian Week The Bright Side of Life Series MCYT-Fem Slash Treebark Week Katecinda Week Dream SMP Sixteenth Day Event: Angst Month

GIFT EXCHANGES:

MCYT Horror Gift Exchange

ZINES AND MAPs:

Hermitzine 8.5: April Fools edition The Minecraft Speedrunning Tarot Project Hermits Zine: Geminitay Edition Desert Duo Tongues and Teeth MAP

MAY

EVENTS:

Hermit-A-Day May HideDuo Kiss Week Dream SMP Sixteenth Day Event: Duos Month! Fish Donna Week Hermitcraft Guess The Author QSMP AU Week

GIFT EXCHANGES:

MCYT Drabble Exchange

ZINES AND MAPs:

Hermit Coloring Book Mianite Zine

JUNE

EVENTS:

MCYT Omegaverse Month Voices For The Blade MCYT Trans Week Scarian Summer Smooch Fest MCYT Subversion Week Niki Nihachu Summer Dream SMP Sixteenth Day Event: Pre-Canon Month

GIFT EXCHANGES:

MCYT Multilingual Big Bang

ZINES AND MAPs:

Boatem Village Zine Trafficzine Edition 5 Flowers in the Desert: A Desert Duo Zine

JULY

EVENTS:

MCYT Co-Create Event Gem Pearl Week MCYT Aspec Week Hot Scarian Summer RedScape Week Dream SMP Sixteenth Day Event: Post-Canon Month fWhimmy Week HideDuo Week MCYTblr Fandom Crossover/AU event

GIFT EXCHANGES:

MCYTBLR AU Fest MCYT Fic Fight Driving After Dark 3 QSMP Big Bang

ZINES AND MAPs:

Petals of a Rose - Hideduo Zine Fairytales from the SMP: Volume II

AUGUST

EVENTS:

MCYT Musical Bingo Event QSMP Month(s) Hypnotizd ship week Skizz Week 2 FelPac week Dream SMP Sixteenth Day Event: Crack Month

GIFT EXCHANGES:

MCYT Summer of Yuri MCYT RPF KinkMeme

ZINES AND MAPs:

Chronicles: a QSMP Egg Zine MCYT Sapphic Zine Empiropedia Hotguy Comics Zine Hermitzine 9: H is for Hermitcraft Bread Hermitcraft MAP

SEPTEMBER

EVENTS:

MCYT Non-POV Event Your Cubito, Your Culture Event Dream SMP Sixteenth Day Event: Places Month Sausage September

GIFT EXCHANGES:

MCYTblr Fluff Gift Exchange MCYT Jukebox Bonanza Event

ZINES AND MAPs:

Hermitcraft Season 9 Zine The Hermit Arcana The QSMP Story- Animation Collab

OCTOBER

EVENTS:

MCYT Aro Week 2 Weekly Hermitober + Life Series Spiderbit/Guapoduo Fluff or Fright Scarian Autumn Smooch Fest fWhimmy Week QSMP Halloween Fanworks Event Hideduo Trick or Treat Week ImpSkizztober GTWScartober2024 Rats SMPtober Hermittober Team Ranchers Week Weekly Hermittober Pisstober MCYT Femslash: Vampires VS Werewolves Dream SMP Sixteenth Day Event: Limbo Month 7 Holy Nights of Jeremy

GIFT EXCHANGES:

MCYT Horror Gift Exchange 2 MCYT Yaoi Exchange MCYT Trick-Or-Treat MCYT Halloween Gift Exchange

NOVEMBER

EVENTS:

DoubleHearted-vember Sixteenth Day Event: Memory Month MCYT Fan Fundraiser: Art Showcase

GIFT EXCHANGES:

MCYT Prompt Exchange

ZINES AND MAPs:

The Reason is You Zine [SpiderBit]

DECEMBER

EVENTS:

QPR Kersuma Week Dream SMP Sixteenth Day Event: Festive Month Bedrock Bros Prompt Months MCYT Christmas Prompt List Shadowrot Week Fuga4 Week Zedaph Week Felps Weekend Event MCYT Advent Solstice Social Collaborative Fanwork Event

GIFT EXCHANGES:

MCYTblr Holiday Exchange Rivals Duo Holiday Gift Exchange MCSR Mini Gift Exchange MCSR Winter Big Bang MCYT Playwriting Festival

ZINES AND MAPs:

Treebark Zine Coloring with Hermits The Heart of the Ouroboros - LifeSteal Zine Views of Hermitcraft 2025 Calendar Moonrot-Pearleo Zine Hermit Heartthrobs 2025 Calendar Morning Star Zine Double-Hearted : DDVAU Holiday Zine