#moving with that nagging voice telling you that everything is dirty and now everything u touch will be dirty and now you have no control
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kyorru-remade · 3 months ago
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had a full blown mental breakdown an hour ago and now i’m on the bus going to get something that my parents ordered 🙂‍↕️
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sailorhyunjinz · 4 years ago
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~ Discreet ~
Warnings: fem!reader x dom!3racha, smut, mentions of periods, foursome, voyerism, fingering, hairpulling, use of degrading terms, riding, nicknames, dumbification, penetrative sex (be careful), unprotected sex (BE CAREFUL), masturbation, double penetration, anal sex, creampie, cockwarming, the smuttiest of smuts...
Word count: 3.5 k 
Requested: yiiiip thank u 🧃 anoniee~ 
Note: ok i did more like...u know the days before ones period? am i making any sense? idk i just though that it would be such a hassle to write if the reader had their period so... im just leaving it here and... im gonna hide. 
i feel so bad for jisung in this AKSJS
also im in love with this gif akfhsfksjhf
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“No, stop nagging y/n” Bangchan said without turning around in his office chair. The studio contained your three loving boyfriends which were great most of the time but when you had to beg them to fuck you they weren’t the nicest.
“I’m not even on my period yet” you said to Bangchan in a cocky manner, sighing while looking at the backs of the two other boys, each one working on a computer with their headphones on. Bangchan fiddled with his phone before showing you his bright screen.
“But soon it is and according to the app you can start of feel higher levels of pain before your period” Bangchan stated with a half smile.
On his screen was the period tracking app you had shared with the boys but you were surprised to know that Bangchan actually checked it. You tried to grab the phone but he stood up hastily, lifting his arm up so the phone was out of your reach.
“Why did I even share that stupid app with you guys” you huffed, giving up on retrieving the phone and sat down on the leather couch behind the desks. He sat down moments after you and smirked at you. 
“So no, we won’t fuck you because we both know how rough things get, especially when Changbin is riled up” he said turning back to the computer screen.
A bunch of memories zapped through your mind. How they manhandled you and took turns to cum inside you, leaving you nothing but a wrecked and cum- leaking mess. Since both Jisung and Changbin had headphones on they hadn’t heard the conversation. Your realisation was genius. It’s just to ask them about it! Sure, Bangchan would be pissed about it since he was clear on a couple of rules, one of them being to not fuck behind each others backs but you were so needy. Your body ignited with just the though of being touched. Being determined you shuffled over to Changbin and lightly wrapped your arms around his broad shoulders. He smiled, moved one side of the headphone off of his ear and turned his head around to face you.
“Everything good, baby?” Changbin asked, looking at you with adoration. 
You smiled back at him and hesitated asking him about the favour but with a slight voice crack you leaned into his ear and said;
“Bangchan is being mean and says that he won’t help me with... w-with my neediness”.
He nodded slightly as his gaze returned to the monitor infront of him, busy with some producing. 
“Babygirl got some wits I see. You thoughts I didn’t hear the conversation you just had with Chan?” he didn’t look at you, clicking and typing away at something. Fuck. How did he hear that?
“But please Binnie~” you wrapped your arms tighter around him and gave him a peck on the cheek but to no avail.
“You don’t know how difficult it is to say no to your pretty face” he finally looked at you and pecked you back on the lips. You laughed slightly at his corny remark and patted him on the shoulder before darting your eyes towards Jisung. He was sitting a bit away from the other boys in a corner, the ice in his americano had melted and diluted the coffee from the warmth in the studio. Changbin put on his headphones again and returned to his work as you sat down on the empty chair next to Jisung and looked at him with puppy eyes.
“What’s up bub?” he rubbed your thigh that was exposed from the fluffy black skirt you were wearing. You rubbed your thighs together, Jisungs hand stuck inbetween them. He laughed quietly to not disturb the other boys. 
“You don’t even need to tell me, I know what you want” he whispered, leaning into you and removing his trapped hand. You bit your bottom lip as you looked at him with innocence in your eyes, scooting closer with your chair. 
Your gaze traveled down his body until it landed on the tent between his legs. The warm touch of his hand grazed closer and closer to your heat that was uncomfortably wet, your panties sticking to your cunt from arousal. You cupped him through his pants, his breath hitched due to the friction. The both of you observed the other boys but thankfully they were deep into their work, their eyes glued to each computer screen, the blue light reflecting on their precious faces. Jisung and you turned back around and caught eye contact with each other to which the both of you laughed inaudibly. He leaned towards you, the hot breath from his mouth hitting against your ear.
“Chan will be so mad” he said with a ambivalent tone, not sure if he wants to receive a scolding from Bangchan after he fucks you. You shook your head from side to side, doing everything to convince him.
“Sungie~ I’m all wet for you. I’ll promise to not tell Chan” your eyes twinkled towards the boy that had removed his headphones and placed them on the keyboard of the silver colored computer. 
“Of course you won’t baby, I trust you” Jisung whispered in your ear, sending a shiver down your spine. His fingertips began to graze your wet clothed cunt to which you had to muffle a whine by biting the inside of your cheek. Jisung smirked seeing you so sensitive and needy, ready to risk it all for his dick. Pushing the thin fabric to the side, Jisung felt your leaking wetness and exhaled loudly from excitement wanting to just slam you onto the couch and fuck you senseless. You jerked your head towards he couch, asking him to move to which he looked slowly towards Bangchan frame and agreed. 
The two of you stood up carefully and sat down on the black couch that you had been on moments earlier. Jisung sat down first, the weight of the couch shifting as he sat. You followed shortly, straddling him and facing away from the working boys. Jisung had a mischievous smile plastered on his face and your face was burning at the though of getting fucked by Jisung behind Bangchan. Your hands traveled to Jisung’s belt buckle and with the utmost care you unbuckled it. Jisung helped remove his pants and popping his dick over the band of his black boxers. You let out a breathy whine from just the sight of his veiny dick, the tip cherry red and a string of precum coating the slit. You pumped his length a couple of times, earning a hiss from the dark haired boy before your heated sex hovered above his hard dick. Sneakily you snapped your head towards the working boys and was assured when they were intranced in their work, the subtle klicking and typing creating background noise. Jisung held your hips hard enough to leave red marks the day after before he pushed you down onto his dick. Sparks were flying everywhere in your mind, the feeling of being filled to the brim by Jisung’s girth made you choke on a moan. Jisung gave you time to adjust as you bottomed out, lifting your shirt up just so that your bra covered breasts peeked out. Slowly you bucked your hips against his and the brown eyed boy hissed quietly. Grinding on him you felt the knot of nerve endings being stimulated as Jisung circled your clit with his slightly cold thumb that contrasted with your sopping heat. 
The added pleasure stringed out a string of whines from your lips until Jisung’s big hand covered your mouth, he looked at you with trust in his eyes and you smiled against his cold hand. You held onto his shoulders as you rode his length, your nails digging into the skin as the skirt pooled around your hips and shifted everytime you grinded onto Jisung that was now covering his own moans by clearing his throat. For one second he looked at your pink and red flushed face and then drifted his brown orbs behind you, making sure that neither Changbin or Bangchan glanced backwards. You shut your eyes tightly, Jisung’s pretty face disappearing as a rainbow of colors flashed before your eyes. The pace quickened due to Jisung’s hands being placed on your hips after momentarily removing them to stroke a piece of your hair behind your ear. He guided your cunt up and down his dick, the bouncing impacting the couch that let out a tiny creak. Jisung’s grip was hard on your hips as he let out a breathy moan behind his closed eyes. The knot in your stomach tightened, nearing your release as your mind blank. Both your and Jisung’s head was thrown back, eyes shut and everything tensing up. Just as the bundle of nerve endings was about to unravel with Jisung’s girth grazing your g-spot your hair was suddenly yanked from behind, you held onto the boys sturdy shoulders as a loud yelp forced it’s way out your mouth. 
“Dirty fucking slut” a voice growled behind you as the grip on your hair tightened, holding you with full force by your roots. Your and Jisung’s eyes darted open, panic slowly filling them. The big hand belonged to Bangchan that  was upside down in your sight since he pulled your head backwards. He glared at you with anger, brows furrowed as he spat out;
“Computer screens reflect but the two of you are too stupid for that”. 
He let go of your hair as he shoved you towards Jisung that was terrified of the consequences and quickly lifted you off of him. Changbin turned around due to the commotion and ripped away his headphones upon seeing Jisung shoving his dick back into his jeans. Bangchan grabbed your arm harsh enough to hurt you and lifted you up before slamming you against the white wall of the studio. You felt  Changbin’s and Jisung’s eyes burn into you through Bangchans back. Bangchan’s arm was at the side of your head as he looked down on you with disbelief. 
“I was t-trying to help he-her” Jisung stuttered behind Bangchan but he wasn’t having any of it.
“Shut it” he growled, inches away from your face as his gaze was black. 
Bangchan’s fingertips trailed down your torso before they plunged under the skirt and brushed your cunt that was now even wetter than before thanks to riding Jisung moments earlier. The boy tugged on you panties and they eventually fell down, pooling at your feet. Without warning, two fingers dived into your soaked pussy, a loud moan rolling off your tongue as the return of friction felt like heaven. Your legs automatically seperated but were stopped by the elastic of the panties not going further. His digits hammared into you, pain mixed with pleasure as your back was tightly pressed against the frigid wall. 
Changbin lurked behind Bangchan’s shoulder as Jisung was sitting on the couch helplessly, not wanting to anger Chan further. Changbin gave Bangchan a pat on the shoulder, Bangchans eyes still glued onto you, pure rage filling his dark brown orbs. He moved away upon Changbin’s arrival and instead glared at Jisung as he sat down into his office chair, now turned to face the couch. 
Changbin grabbed your warm and slightly clammy hand and led you to the couch, panties awkwardly grazing along the studio floor. You landed with a thud against the leather couch, Jisung stiff as a plank beside you. Fear charged thorugh your body since you knew how rough Changbin could be at times and you desperatly clutched Jisung, wrapping your arms around him. Bangchan tsked as he shifted closer with his chair and put his foot between the tiny gap seperating you from Jisung.
“You’re only watching tonight, isn’t that right Jisung?” he said, tilting his head slightly.
The boy beside you whined and pouted with his bottom lip sticking out. 
“B-but I didn-t even..” he tried to form a sentence but gave up quickly as a shiver ran down his spine from Bangchan’s fierce presence. 
Changbin removed your clothing in an instant as well as his own, clothing pieces sprawled out on the wooden floor. When the two of you were left in nothing but your underwear he attached his plump lips onto yours, coaxing your tongue by playfully licking your bottom lip. You moaned into the kiss as he fumbled with the bra clasp for a second before releasing you from your clothed prison. The chilly air hardened your exposed nipples and you felt the stares of the three boys in the room. The kiss deepened as Changbin grabbed the back of your neck and pulled you closer, his other hand hooking onto the edge of your panties and dragging them down. You broke the kiss momentarily to lift your hips upwards so that the panties were removed fully from your body, laying in the puddle of other clothes moments later. Both Jisung and Bangchan were palming themselves through their pants, the both of them visibly hard as the tents between their legs grew. Changbin felt up and down on your thigh and spread your legs apart and layed your down on the couch. It felt so wrong yet so right to be all spread out for them in the studio, their hungry gazes observing your wet sex. 
Changbin removed his boxers in a swift motion and his dick sprang, the red tip hitting his abdomen as his girth made your mouth water. You sat up and looked him mischievously into his eyes before opening your mouth without command. He scoffed at your boldness before grabbing your head by the roots in exactly the same place Bangchan did earlier which stinged with pleasure. Your head was harshly pulled down his length, giving you no opportunity to breath before he started to facefuck you. You grabbed his other hand as tears formed in the corner of your eyes due to his tip hitting the back of your throat making you choke. Changbin liked seeing you like this. Drool and tears running down your red flushed face. You peeked over to Bangchan that had already started stroking himself upon what he saw. You couldn’t help but to stare. The way his veins cascaded down his immense length, how his tip disappeared and reappered through his hand as he was bucking against it. You also managed to take a glance at Jisung whose ears were red, his pants straining his growing erection as he was unable to do anything about it. Changbin noticed you looking around.
“What’s the matter slut? You want us all three?” he cooed at you to which you responded with a slight nod of the head as you hollowed your cheeks, your jawline starting to hurt a bit. Changbin let go of your hair and instead grabbed your face as you pulled back, catching air and coughing with drool on your chin and chest. He leaned down to kiss you once, his tongue feeling soft as his lips hit your swollen ones. A string of spit seperated the two of you when he broke the kiss and slowly pressed up against you, your back hitting the couch. Your legs seperated automatically, already knowing what’s to come before he alined himself with your wet leaky hole. He hissed as he entered your tight pussy, your back arching slightly against the sofa. Jisung shifted uncomfortably in his seat, desperatly trying to get some friction by rubbing against his pants. Changbins pace gained quickly making the couch squeak like it did when you rode Jisung. Your clit was sore from earlier which you only noticed after Changbin placed his thumb on your clit and started rubbing it in fast circular motions, rubbing you raw. Pretty lewd sounds spilled from your lips and filled the studio as your eyes were shut tight from Changbin’s girth fitting perfectly into your pussy, like two puzzle pieces. 
“Look at your little cumslut, taking my dick so good” he cooed arrogantly, trying to make himself heard over your moans.
“P-please Changbin..let me c-cum” you pleaded, a blush creeping onto your face from your bold statement. 
He smirked towards you before looking at Bangchan whose strokes were getting sloppier and turned his head quickly in your direction, a signal to come and join. Before getting out of the chair he gave Jisung a glare and a mocking smile, showing him his place. 
Changbin lifted you up slightly making you half sit as he pounded into you, one knee bent on the couch and his foot on the floor giving him good aim and strength to wreck your sore pussy even more. You were practically crying, feeling sensations a thousand times more which made you go crazy as his girth dragged along your velety walls. You looked up at Bangchan that was standing at the side of the couch with his hard dick facing you. He dragged his open hand against your hot cheek and past your ear before placing his tip on your quivering lip that were working hard to hold back moans. His precum coated your rose-like lips, glistening in the light as you opened your mouth and took his length. Bangchan rolled his head back and placed held your face by the cheek. He looked back at Jisung to make sure that he was suffering and right so, the poor brown haired boy was pratically sliding of the couch as he fiddled with his legs and tried to avoid Bangchan’s lust filled eyes. 
You could feel every vein on Bangchan’s girth as he twitched in your mouth while you coated his dick in your saliva. Licking fat stripes against his shaft you narrowed your tongue once you got to the tip before flicking your tongue upwards, earning a hiss from the buff boy. Changbin’s thrusts were getting sloppier and his movements made your breasts jump up as well as your head accidently choking on Bangchan’s dick. The moans that were muffled by his dick sent vibrations through his body which made him even harder, it that’s even possible. Suddenly he laced his pretty, veiny hands in your thick locks and pulled you off his length before lifting you up by your hair and pushing you against Changbin. You straddled Changbin, slowly sinking onto his girth yet again, filling the momentary emptyness that made you whine. Bangchan was standing behind you and traced his hand across your back before his dick poked you in the butt and he slided into the hole that wasn’t filled. Your mind felt like static as you were filled up at both ends. Your head layed on Changbin’s shoulder as his hands were guiding your cunt against his dick. Everytime he moved you backwards Bangchan’s dick entered deeper into you, your moans becoming higher in pitch every minute. The knot in your stomach tightened, feeling a build up of tension in your core as your abused clit grinded onto Changbin. Your hands latched on the back of Changbins arms, nails digging into his skin as Bangchan’s pace quickened. His arms snaked around your neck and choked you, the lightheadedness of it making you swoon. The grip creeped up to your face as he harshly held your face and made you look at Jisung. You felt humiliated but that’s exactly what Bangchan wanted you to feel. Your loose gaze landed on Jisung’s soft eyes as your cheeks were burning and drool hanged from your chin. 
“Isn’t our y/n so pretty with her fucked out face” he growled at Jisung, his voice and his pace making your eyes roll back into your skull. 
Changbin moaned loudly once before releasing his hot liquid into your dripping pussy. His cum coated your walls and trinkled down to eventually leak out of you, Changbin’s dick still inside of you as he looked up against the ceiling and panted. Changbin’s girth twitched inside of you, chasing your high by grinding against him and overstimulating his delicate tip. Your broken moans echoed in the room accompanied with the sound of skin slapping and Bangchan hissing. Like a bunch of fireworks, your core ignited with Bangchan’s last thrust as he came inside of you and smirked with a devilish grin on his face. You flopped against Changbin’s chest as your orgasm crashed upon you like an ocean wave, leaving you stunned with your mouth hanging open and your legs shaking, feeling unstable and uncontrollable. Bangchan pulled out and Changbin lifted you off onto the couch. You could only breathe heavily as your head spun. Bangchan got closer to you and spread your legs apart which made you shudder, scared that they would start round 2. The three boys stared at your leaking holes, the white liquid mixing together with your own juices. Changbin and Bangchan turned to Jisung at the same time and his flustered gaze moved violently around the room. Bangchan approached the poor horny boy and bent down as he was sitting. His raspy voice formed goosebumps on Jisung’s soft skin.
“Clean up the mess however you like.” 
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djarinbarnes · 3 years ago
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me olvidarás - eight
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・ ⋆ ・ ⠄⠂⋆ ・ ⠄⠂⋆ ・ ⠄⠂⋆ ・ ⠄⠂⋆ ・ ⠄⠂⋆ ・
Pairings: Javier Peña x female reader
Warnings for the chapter: jealously, angst, smoking, talk about STD’s, cursing, bad coping mechanisms, 18+ smut, grinding, brief oral, fingering, vaginal sex, Javi’s dirty talk, biting, choking, two idiots.
Word count: 5.1k
Summary: an undeniable warm summer vacation in Bogotá. simply trying to get away from your nosey, boring parents and live for once, you meet a man who impresses you beyond where your imagination could ever take you.
a/n: hi. i hope you like this chapter. it was.... kinda hard to write, so I hope you like it!! as always, thank you to @mcngata​ for aiding me with the whole spanish thing. I love u boo!
previous chapter · series masterlist
・ ⋆ ・ ⠄⠂⋆ ・ ⠄⠂⋆ ・ ⠄⠂⋆ ・ ⠄⠂⋆ ・ ⠄⠂⋆ ・
“¿Y qué tenemos aquí?”
You don’t know how to react to the woman standing in front of you. She’s just a little shorter than you, her tan skin slightly glistening from the heat outside. The swells of her breasts are bared, and her stomach is visible where her top doesn’t meet her short skirt. 
You pull your cardigan tighter around your body as she shoots daggers into you with her eyes. You gulp, holding the door as closed as you can to shield yourself from her prying eyes.
“Um… Excuse me?” You manage to croak out, and she lets out a laugh before she’s raising an eyebrow at you. You did understand some from the telenovelas you watched at home, but it was sparse and limited. She’s chewing on a piece of gum, and you watch as her red lips part slightly with every chew.
“¿Cómo te llamas?” She nods at you, and you chew on your lip, finally getting a hang on what she’s saying as she slows down. You tell her your name, and she lets out a huff, crossing her arms over her chest. “¿Y dónde ha recogido Javi a alguien como tú?”
You don’t know how to answer her, or if you even want to answer her, so you don’t. You shrug your shoulders, and you just know she’s enjoying your obliviousness. To protect yourself a little more you close the door a little further, shielding more of you from her. “Can I take a message?” You offer, and you watch as she laughs, her laugh full of viciousness and venom.
“Puedes decirle a Javi… ¿Que cuando deje de jugar con mojigatas, sabra donde encontrar una mujer de verdad?” You know exactly what she’s saying, but you also know that it probably isn’t the best idea to say anything at that moment, so you play dumb. She can see the confusion on your face, and she laughs at your expression. You didn’t like this woman one bit. You still wondered what she could possibly want with Javi.
“You tell Javi,” her voice is also overly sensual in English, her thick Spanish accent lingering in the words, making your heart pick up the pace. “That Helena is looking for him. I need to talk to him. He has my number,” she grins, popping a small bubble with the gum in her mouth before she turns on her heel with a wink, leaving you dumbfounded in the entryway of Javi’s apartment.
You spend the next few hours wondering who this Helena woman was, and how she knew Javi. You knew it probably wasn’t any of your business, yet you couldn’t help yourself. She was beautiful, a pretty little thing and you were sure everything was sitting right on her. Just looking at her for those short minutes, and with the confidence she carried, you were sure they had slept together. And more than once.
You stuff a full, cold enchilada into your mouth, not caring about the way you’re eating since you’re alone. You’re savoring the juicy chicken, holding the back of your hand against your mouth as you chew. You don’t know what’s come over you as you swallow everything down.
You had no idea why you felt this way about an encounter you’d had with this woman. Maybe you were just feeling possessive over Javi, which you had no reason for. It wasn’t like you were dating. You sigh and rub your hands over your face, resisting the urge to sob and cry out.
Glancing up at the clock you realize it’s nearing dinner time, and even though Javi hadn’t asked you to make dinner and even though you’re somewhat mad at him, you make your way to the kitchen to pull out a few pots and pans to make something for when he returns from the office.
You had no idea how long it took to file a report, but you figured it could easily be a drawn-out affair. You decided to leave at 8 if he weren’t home by then, to save you the trouble of coming face to face with him, after your flurry of thoughts and the internal struggle you’d had for the past hours.
You cast a look to into one of the cabinets from where you’ve seen Javi pick out a pack of cigarettes, and you give into the temptation of smoking one. You feel like the whole situation with Helena has made your heart pick up the pace so erratically, you need something to calm yourself down with, even though nicotine probably wasn’t the best antidote. With shaky hands you pull out one of the cigarettes before placing it between your lips, shortly after coming up with a lighter, holding the flame to the tip of it.
You know the first inhale is the worst, so you settle on just a short puff, drawing the smoke into your mouth and inhaling just the slightest of the fumes. With an exhale you realize it isn’t the worst taste or feeling in the world, so you bring the cigarette back to your lips, drawing in a bigger intake of the smoke. You feel it this time, and you cough just a bit at the burn in your lungs.
The taste isn’t the same as when you’ve tasted it on Javi’s tongue. It’s much stronger and harsh in your own mouth, especially since the filter is doing nothing for the tobacco. You look through his fridge and drawers, coming up with enough ingredients to make some chicken with veggies. The cigarette between your lips is disappearing quicker than you would’ve liked, but you figure you just must live with it.
With a sigh you stub out the butt into the ashtray, before you start making dinner. The chicken in browning on the pan, and you’re chopping up some carrots when you hear the door being pushed open, and you sigh in relief when you hear the heavy puff of air leaving Javi as he steps into the threshold. Casting a look at the clock, you find the time to be 7:43pm. Saved by the bell…
“Hey,” you say over your shoulder as you hear him put away his keys and jacket before he’s kicking off his shoes by the door. Then you hear his belt buckle coming undone before he discards it against the floor as well. You feel his arms come around your middle and you feel him tense up – and you know he can smell the nicotine on you, even though he smokes himself.
You decide on not mentioning it if he doesn’t initiate the conversation. “Could get used to this.” he breathes into your neck before he leaves a kiss on your shoulder, letting go of you to set the table. “It isn’t every day I eat a home cooked meal.”
“Was it alright at the office?” you decide to try and make small talk, Helena still nagging at the back of your mind. You weren’t going to bombard him with questions at the first given moment, mainly because you were hungry, but you figured it might be a sensitive topic to him. And on top of that, you didn’t even know what the two of you were, and ultimately, it wasn’t your business.
“It was… like it usually was. Boring and the director was yelling my ear off for the documents being incorrectly filed…” He sighs as he recalls the way he pushed the files off the table to ravage you on his desk like a horny teenage boy. “I managed to sort it all and file the report, though.”
“Oh. That’s good.” You keep it at that, and Javi realizes you’re acting very differently from when he left that very morning. He figured you were acting differently the moment he entered the apartment, since you didn’t come to greet him at the door, like he’d hoped you would have. He’d imagined so many things while at work, and every thought had alighted something inside him.
The first thought had roamed his thoughts as he’d gotten into his car, the way you’d straddled him in the very seat he was now sitting in, and he felt the blood rush to his lower regions. Then he’d somehow heard the sounds you’d let out that very morning when he’d both fucked you and eaten you out right after.
God damn, he wanted to go back into his apartment and take you on every surface, but he knew the odds weren’t in his favor. It was both the world and the director of the DEA that was on and against his ass, even though he was still technically on leave. The problem with the director was, that when she asked you to jump you didn’t say yes or no, but how high.
He even had to excuse himself and act on his arousal a few hours into the paperwork, feeling like a teenage guy yet again as he jerked himself off in the stall to the thought of you. He didn’t know what’d come over him – he just felt the arousal clouding his mind at every moment he was awake, and especially when you were around him.
Yet now it felt off. He didn’t even know why you were acting so differently, since everything seemed to be so comfortable and enthralling when he left. Where he earlier felt like you looked at him like he was the only man in the world, it now felt like the two of you were in the last stage of a relationship, just before parting ways.
Like Javi hadn’t faced a situation like that before. Falling out of love was never easy no matter who it was with and how long it had been. He hadn’t even made his own mind up yet, about the whole situation with you. Everything was moving along so quickly; he had a hard time keeping up. Especially every time he reconsidered your age.
You heard him say your name and you turned off the stove, before turning your head to look at him for the first time since he entered the apartment. “What’s going on?” his voice is full of something you can’t place, and you really do contemplate on either lashing out or doing it in a calm way. You know that no matter what he says, you’re going to overthink it.
“Helena came by.” The moment the words and her name leave your mouth you see his Adams apple bop as he swallows past a sudden lump that has formed in his throat. “She was very intent on you finding a real woman, possibly her, when you were done screwing around with a prude like me.”
You watch as his brows furrow, and you feel your eyes fill with tears. You turn around immediately, not wanting to show him just  how much her words hurt you. You hear him breathe out your name along with a hermosa, and you let out a sob. You really didn’t want to admit how much of an impact her words had had on you.
“Helena?” her name falls from his lips reluctantly, like he can’t believe what you’re telling him. “Helena was here?” You can her the anger in his voice, and you nod while wiping your eyes. You hear him come closer to you, and you flinch when he reaches out to touch you. “Did she say anything else than that?”
“She just asked how I knew you.” You sniff, and you feel his arms come around you again, pulling you into his warm embrace. You know you should probably give in and wrap your arms around him, but you just can’t bring yourself to do it. What if he was seeing his Helena woman as well? What if he was having sex with someone else, while he was having sex with you?
You suddenly feel dirty. It dawns on you that you and Javi haven’t used protection at all while you’ve been having sex, and you feel your head going through every emotion all at once. Fear of you contracting something from him. Anger of him leading you on. Disgust with the thought of him having sex with someone else.
Sadness from the mean words Helena has spoken to you. And sadness in the form of you trusting Javi, and him proving that you probably shouldn’t have. You have a hard time focusing on anything at the moment, and you know your body is protecting you from a possible anxiety attack. You know the signs by now, and with the rapid rise and fall of your chest and the blackening before your eyes, you know it’s close.
“I haven’t seen Helena in months, not since…” He trails off, and even though you should probably believe him, you have a hard time doing so. You don’t know what to think at this point. “Come on, I’ll explain it to you.” He takes a hold of your hand and leads you to the couch, where he pushes you down on the soft cushions of the leather couch. He sits down beside you, with a few inches separating you. You appreciate the gesture.
“She’s one of my informants at the embassy,” he starts, and you immediately imagine a hundred things in your mind at once. Informant? Informing him about what? “DEA stands for Drug Enforcement Administration. We’re working towards catching some of the more… hardheaded drug lords in this country.”
It doesn’t catch up to you before now. The bullet wound to his shoulder – your thought about him chasing bad guys… It all clicks right at that moment. The man in front of you chases dangerous criminals for a living. “If you want to know things about them…” He sighs deeply before revealing the next part to you. “I figured you have to hang around the same people they do.” He’s reluctant to add the last part, but when he does you don’t feel much better. “The same women they do.”
“So, she’s a whore?” you hate the word, but you also hate the woman who was at Javi’s door a few hours ago, so you have no problem calling her the profanity. You watch as he nods, his teeth tugging his bottom lip in between them. “Are you…” you have a hard time asking him, but you know you must, considering you haven’t exactly been safe with him. “Clean?”
Javi’s eyebrows furrow at your question, the whole change of subject unsettling him for a second before he catches up. “Yeah.” It’s nothing more than that, so you raise your eyebrows at him. “I usually… use protection with the… informants.” You almost wish he would just say the word, as it if would make you feel better. It kind of feels like he’s sparing himself from the reality of the occupation the women have, and it makes you even sadder.
“Good.” You leave it at that before you rise, walking back over to the stove to reheat the food you were making when he came home. You can’t stop thinking about the information he’s just shared with you, but you also just want to forget she was ever there and that you could just go back to the happy little bubble you and Javi were in that morning.
“You don’t wanna hear the rest of the story? Why she’s coming here, knocking on my door?” Javi speaks to your back, and it really does feel like he’s just talking to a wall. It’s like his words peel off of you, like water on a brick wall. You feel sort of… emotionless about the situation.
“Maybe later.” It’s all you can muster at the moment, not really wanting to sympathize with the whore. Somehow, you just know Javi is and always will be a womanizer. His look, his attitude, the whole way he carries himself. It’s a match made in heaven.
You finish the dinner with your back to Javi, sensing the heavy smell of nicotine lingering in the air from where Javi is still sitting on the couch, puffing at a cigarette. You move the pots and pans to the table before you walk over to where Javi is sitting, his hands rubbing at his forehead while the lit cigarette is resting in the ashtray in front of him.
You lift it to your lips and take the last drag, before stubbing it out right in front of him. “Dinner is ready.” You tell him, your exhale full of smoke before you turn on your heel, grabbing two beers from his fridge. You watch as he rises from the couch, his eyes on you as you open the two beers before sitting down opposite of where he’s still standing.
No words are spoken between the two of you as you eat, and for the first time, the silence between the two of you is deafening. The space between the two of you is filled with uncertainty and unspoken words as you both fill your mouths. Javi rises in the middle of dinner to retrieve two additional beers from the fridge, and you hear the clinking of the bottles as he removes the caps.
He stands beside you as he sets the newly opened beer beside your empty bottle before the hand previously containing the bottle rests against the expanse of your shoulder. You draw both your lips into your mouth and close your eyes as you feel the warmth of his palm seeps into your skin from on top of your clothes.
“Hermosa.” You feel as his hands move, and when you open your eyes, he’s placed himself on the seat beside you. “You need to know.” You turn your body slightly, urging him to try his luck. “Helena…” you the sound of her name spilling from his lips makes your heart pound faster in your chest.
The emotions encapsulated in his brown eyes are unlike anything you’ve ever seen on him before. You can see the internal struggle he’s fighting at the moment, and something tells you it’s not easy for him to… tell you what he’s about to tell you.
“A few weeks ago, Helena was… kidnapped. And what they did to her, the men…” It’s like the whole incident replays before his eyes as he tries to find the right words to phrase anything. “It wasn’t good. I found her there, naked, molested by those men.”
Javi bites the inside of his cheek as he, again, searches for words. “Since… then, she’s been seeking me out frequently. Whereas it was previously me that sought her out, it was like the tables had turned. She got… obsessed with me. I don’t know why.” Your eyes shoot down as you sense movement, and you watch as he reaches for your hand. Reluctantly, you let him.
“Listen, I don’t know what I’m going to do about it. She obviously doesn’t understand a no.” You bite your lip, still not wanting to look at him, just to keep him at an arm’s length. “Hermosa, I swear I…” With everything Javi has just told you, you still don’t know how to feel about it. On one hand, you want to slap him, even though it’s not his fault.
A few minutes pass in silence, where neither of you make the moves to neither move nor speak. You let your tongue clean the outside of your teeth, contemplating on whether to take another sip of your beer or actually talk to Javi. You let out a breath before looking back up at him. His eyes are trained on you, watching you like you were the most important thing in the world at that moment.
“Sounds like you’ve got some serious lady troubles, Javi.” The sound he lets out is something between a snort and a laugh. You can barely contain your own laughter as Javi practically doubles over on top of you in a fit of tears and laughter. All the anger you’d held in for the previous hours had disappeared and had simply been replaced with… or gone back to affection.
When he pulls back, his eyes are full of tears from the laughter he’d just let out. You lick your lips and smile when he finally stops laughing. “Please forgive… whatever that was. Forgive me.” You nod before he leans into your personal space, nudging your chin up with his nose before leaning in to place a kiss on your lips.
You pull him closer by the neck, nuzzling your fingers into the hairs at the nape of his neck as you slide your lips over his. It feels good to have your lips back on his. No matter how much you’d wanted to punch him in the face not more than an hour ago, that had all dispersed when he’d actually opened his mouth.
“You’re not…” he sighs. “Mad. Are you?” he breathes against your lips, and you suppress a small smile playing on your lips. You shake your head slightly, before you breathe a soft no against his lips. Without saying anything, his lips find yours again, more eagerly this time.
With a fall of his hands to your hips, he’s swiftly getting on his knees before you, pulling your loose-fitted pants down your legs swiftly, his arms quickly spreading your legs on either side of his hips before pulling you close to him and into his lap. Your fingers tangle in his hair, pulling slightly at the strands, drawing a moan from his lips and into your mouth.
You feel every thought you’ve been overthinking during the day go out the window when he grinds himself up into you, letting you feel his hardened cock. Every common sense within you is telling you to stop, telling you to leave while you still can, yet your body isn’t complying at all. That, and your own mind is fighting itself as his lips move down your throat.
You throw your head back to give him more access, whimpering as his mustache and lips grazes against your sensitive pulse point. You feel heat bloom in your core, spreading from your abdomen and throughout your body. Your toes are tingling by the time his lips reach your collarbones, your fingers trembling as you hold onto the back of his neck.
His hands move on their own accord as he pushes your cardigan off your shoulders before he’s detaching his lips from your skin, swiftly pulling off your shirt before reattaching them to the bared skin of the swell of your breast. His fingers are soft as they trail up the expanse of your spine before he snaps the clasp of your bra open before pulling it off your arms.
He grunts against your skin as he ruts his hips up into yours, one hand grasping the back of your neck gently while the other holds your hip tightly. He places a constellation of kisses against your bare breasts, twirling his tongue around the perked bud, drawing a moan from your lips.
“Come, turn around.” His voice is hoarse from arousal as he speaks before he rises on his knees slightly. You get off his lap and turn on your knees, and you lay your chest against the chair you were previously sitting on with a push of his hand to your shoulder.
You brace yourself against the seat of the chair, feeling as the fabric of your panties are slid down your hips. You hold in a breath as you feel his exhale on the globes of your ass, your exhale shaky as your feel his tongue gently slides in between the lips of your pussy.
You have no idea how something so carnal can feel so good, but you’re not going to be the one to complain. You whimper as his warm hands spread your cheeks apart to give him more access to your pussy before he delves further into your folds, burying his tongue within your heat.
“You taste so damn good.” You hear him speak between his tongue flicking at your clit and fucking you with it. You whimper as he pushes a finger into your slick heat, curling it downwards to the front of your cunt. With every thrust of his finger and every moan spilling from your lips, he grins against your skin as he moves his lips to the globe of your butt cheeks.
You feel his teeth sink into your skin before he kisses his way up the back of your ass, all the way up to between your shoulders. His fingers retract themselves from your heat and you feel him shift behind you, you hear his groan from behind you and you assume he’s cleaning his fingers with his mouth all while pushing his pants down.
There’s something about seeing you bent over a chair like this that ignites something inside him. Seeing you so bared and vulnerable and spread out – just for him. His cock twitches at the sight of your clenching pussy in front of his eyes.
“Please…” He grips your hips as you push back against him, urging him to get on with what you’re expecting him to do. You hear his low grunt in your ear as he pushes against your opening, causing you to let out a whimper. You grind your hips back again, whimpering as the head of his cock fills you just the slightest.
Not even a second passes until he’s burying himself to the hilt within you, causing you to let out a throaty whine. His hand comes around to grasp your throat, his fingers tightening just the slightest around the column of your neck.
“More, move please, Javi.” You whimper, his grip cutting off your air supply gently as he starts thrusting his hips into yours rapidly. His pace is unrelenting as he ruts his hips into yours, your whimpers and moans begging him for more.
“Te gusta eso, eh?” his voice is low in your ear mixed with his grunts and the feel of his teeth sink into your shoulder. You whimper at the many feelings coming over you all at once, mixed with the deep voice, full of arousal. “Sí… Sí, lo haces…”
“Javi…” you whimper, your hand coming up to grasp the back of his neck as the other clings to the leg of the chair. You felt as the hand on your hip slid to the front of your body, his fingers sliding through the wetness practically dripping from your core and onto the floor.
Javi coaxed at your nub while still withholding the pace he had set, swiftly pinching your clit to feel you clench around him. The hand on your throat made its way into your hair, fingers tightening in it, turning it into a makeshift ponytail before pulling your head back harshly.
Your back is pulled roughly against his front, his hips still driving in and out of you as his fingers continue their assault on your bundle of nerves. Your slick is just about dripping down the insides of your thighs and your chest is heaving violently at the inability to even put together a sentence.
“Estas tan caliente por mi, goteando por todo mi jodido piso…” his lips are right at your ear as he speaks, and he grunts as you clench around him. His thrusts become erratic as he pushes his fingers against you faster, quicker, almost demanding you to cum with his actions.
You want to cum desperately, you need to cum on his cock, just as much as he needs you to explode around him like you did that very morning. Just the thought of the events of the day brings something out in Javi – something that makes him even more keen on drawing you to the edge.
Maybe it’s anger, or maybe it’s just possessiveness overcoming him as he feels you soak his cock even more. You let out a scream, your walls clutching his cock ever so tightly everything blackens before his eyes. He sinks his teeth deep into your shoulder as he empties himself into your begging heat.
You go slack against him as the aftershocks of your orgasm rolls over you, yet the feel of his arms around you makes the violent trembling in your body seem like the most amazing thing in the world. His chest is warm and sweaty against your back, and his breaths come out as deep puffs against your skin.
You turn slightly and push your lips against his, feeling a drop of sweat from his forehead land against your cheek as he kisses you with relentlessness. “Didn’t…” you breathe, his arms wrapping tighter around your middle. “think of you…” he’s intent in his kisses by now, not wanting to be separated from you at that moment.
“As the possessive type.” You finally manage to breathe, and you feel how he tenses up against you. You let out a short laugh as he pulls out and away from you, huffing as he pulls his pants back up from around his knees. You raise your eyebrow at him as he grunts while standing, his hand resting just above his knee as he stretches his legs.
“I’m not possessive.” He huffs again, licking and biting his lips as he watches you shift on the floor. He can see the mixture of your cum pooling on his floor as you continue sitting on your knees, your legs spread slightly. You let out another laugh before standing, pulling him close by the neck boldly.
“Yeah you are. But you’re also afraid.” You turn and pick all of your discarded clothes off the floor before putting them on. You know he’s watching you, you can almost feel the holes his eyes are burning into your body as he gulps.
“Afraid of what?” he tries softly, and you barely hear it. You turn to him as you pull your cardigan on before crossing your arms over your chest. You watch as he mimics your stance – crossing his arms over his chest as he raises his eyebrow at you.
Ever since he shared the details of… whatever had happened with Helena, you’d known instantly. There was not much to say to it though, because with the knowledge you’d gained from reading your novels… That much you knew. You knew the signs, and they were clearly visible in the man standing right in front of you.
“You’re afraid of love.”
・ ⋆ ・ ⠄⠂⋆ ・ ⠄⠂⋆ ・ ⠄⠂⋆ ・ ⠄⠂⋆ ・ ⠄⠂⋆ ・
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seancekitsch · 4 years ago
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Out of the Rain: a Marko x Reader fic
Warnings: bloodplay goes without saying bc vamp, rough sex, dirty talk, semi public sex, telepathy?? me projecting my music taste on this fic again. drug use, fast and loose use of vampire lore bc when i write i am god and u cannot stop me. also can u tell i have like…. v clear descriptions of the setting like i used to work at the place im describing but its not in california
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No one had come in for hours. What's the point of staying open? You dim some of the lights in the store, which is one of three head shops in Santa Carla, but the only one open late. You're not really sure why this is the only store that stays open, why everyone else if worried about the three am walk back to their car on a weekend night. You've never seen anything of suspicion, just sometimes that biker gang watches people shuffle out. That was almost comforting, though. People didn't like those guys, so no one would make you use your switchblade if they were around.
The bright while fluorescent lights of your typical daytime ambiance faded away, and now green light bathes you in the “mood” lighting your boss thought was a good idea. The green lighting reflects off of the glass counters, shining it back at the ceiling and making everything that much more green. It fits, you think with the overall vibe of the store. The stale scent of weed, gently and miserably covered up by some nag champa incense, always burning in at least four different spots within the store. You'd long since gotten used to the smoke in your eyes. The music does everything to add to the ambiance. You always have full control of the music in the shop, usually because no one else is willing to take the night shift in Santa Carla. In fact, most of the boardwalk shops had a revolving door of night shift workers. You never got why, something clearly spooks them that does not spook you. Whether that makes you brave or stupid, you dont know. Jefferson Airplane’s Surrealistic Pillow pumps through the speakers in the store. But I suppose no one knows, you're my plastic fantastic lover.
The rain batters the boardwalk outside, a roar much different than the typical hustle and bustle of drunk teens, of the cliques and crews that come in and out; the few that sit and snicker in the doorway, never entering. Some too afraid to be associated with the implication of being spotted in the shop. We sell jewelry and vinyl too, you always say, when they balk at the idea of being in the same room as a bong or incense.
But then there's the other group that stands and idles in the threshold, also not entering. It's that biker gang. Four guys, a girl, a kid. Maybe he’s the brat of the girl and the one who takes himself too seriously, but maybe not. She looks too young for that. They'd been hovering around quite a bit lately, always after dark. You’d spoken to them, at least the ones that are talkative. The hair metal wannabe and the cute short one. Paul and Marko. You knew the dark haired one was Dwayne, but all he ever offered you was a curt nod and a tight lipped smile, respectful but indifferent. They're nice, not worth the spooky reputation they have. Any time it's not just you at the shop, your boss tries to spook them away. Good thing your boss isn't here tonight, because one of them is prowling around the storefront in the rain. That is, if it's not your spliff induced haze playing tricks on you.
No, one of them is out there. Without his little pack. The cute one. Marko.
You walk over to the door, which you haven't had propped open since the rain trickled in as a drizzle at the beginning of your shift. At least he had enough sense to be huddling under the awning. Fuck, he’s handsome even when he looks like a drowned rat.
“What are you doing out here?” You scrunch up your nose as you ask.
“Y’know, waiting for you to show up.” Wanted a look at that cute ass.
You blink at him. Did he really just say that?
“Okay… well, you know it's raining out there, right?”
“I might,” he offers noncommittally, eyeing the spliff still in the hand that's not holding the door. If it were anyone but him, you'd probably get fired for it.
Why is he just hanging around out here? That's hella weird. His curls are getting matted to his forehead, slick with rain, his jacket starting to look a little sad.
“C’mon in, Marko. It’s too wet out here. You’ll fuck up your jacket.” You nod towards the interior of the shop holding the door open as he passes you.
Wrong move, sweet cheeks.
“What did you say?” What did he mean, wrong move?
“I didn't say anything,” he offers nonchalantly as he thumbs at one of the tapestries on the wall. A garish mess that’s supposed to be the worm from Alice in Wonderland, but it’s distorted by a botched tie dye job of dark muddy colors. Every time you look at it, you assume one of the day workers did it.
“No, you said something.”
“Do you want me to say something?” there's both a threat and an innuendo in his tone. Maybe you do, but you just laugh, a sharp exhale through your nose, and bring the spliff to your lips again as he follows you deeper into the store.
You jump up onto the counter next to the ash tray, easy reach for each time you need to ash.
“So why are you really here?” your eyes narrow at him, kicking your sandal off on the floor where it lands a few inches from his boots. He looks uneasy in the space, like for all the wild shit you assume he’s into, he might not actually belong in it. He sways a little to the music, perfectly in tune with the rhythm. You sway along too, and suddenly he fills the space like he belongs. He just needed someone along for the ride with him.
“Do you ever come around during the day, or just at night because I’m so fun?” You’re teasing him, but it’s a nice easy feeling between you.
“Not really a sun guy,” bullshit, he would look beautiful with a tan, “but I do drag everyone here just to see you.”
“Awww, all for me? Do you have a crush, Marko?”
It’s more than that. You hear the words clearly, but his smile doesn’t move. You kick the other sandal off.
“I can hear you, I don’t know how, but I can. I bet you can hear me too.”
I can. You’re wrong about the tan thing.
You straighten up, mind clearing as you blurt out your next question. Something absolutely stupid.
“So what are you, a vampire or something?” he laughs at you, but his big toothy smile doesn't reach his eyes. No, there's something predatory, extremely dark in his eyes. Otherworldly.
How could you guess?  
“Well, that for one big fucking clue.” You ash the spliff for the final time, leaving the roach in the tray. You would think you’d be more surprised, more upset that you just found out vampires were real, and that you were in the same room as one. You have to say, weirder things are probably afoot in Santa Carla. Murder capital of the world can’t all be from some rowdy teens and a ten year old.
“You do those surf nazis?” is all that leaves your mouth. You kind of hope it was. They were the fucking worst. Racist, misogynistic, destructive. You’d had to threaten them a few times to leave your store on your shift.
“The—? Oh! Surf nazis. Yeah that was us. Ate a few of them.”
“Good for you. I mean— murder. bad. But they were nazis, and now they’re dead. so…” you trail off. Not really sure what to say next, but then you keep going. Remember everything you know about Marko.
“No, no I mean, it makes sense. Right? You and the guys only hang around at night. Aren’t vampires solitary hunters though? I don’t remember Dracula being in a frat.”
“They’re my pack. We take care of each other.” He says it with such fondness and devotion.
You feel a pang of jealousy run through you. You work alone for the most part, live alone, you’ve got friends but they’re all over the place. He belongs to something.
“And you're down with this?” he’s legitimately asking. You nod. You don't really have a choice, you're down or you get eaten, but like genuinely you are down with it. If he was going to eat you, he probably would have by now. There's probably a reason they've been hanging around the store, and in your sightline while you close up. You're putting things together.
“Like really?”
“Well, you haven't made me a kebab yet.”
He shrugs, frowns.
“Could still skewer you on something.”
Laughter erupts from your lips while you roll your eyes, music to Marko’s ears. This is why he took a shine to you, it's easy to get along with you, and you're not one of his brothers.
Something heavy falls in the room, and it's not the haze of the incense. He steps towards you, big blue eyes raking over your body, but always coming back to meet your gaze. He closes the space between you, easily fitting between your thighs; the rough patches of his jacket brushing against your bare skin where your shorts ride up. He leans in, like he's about to kiss you, and against all better judgement, you're going to let him.
You're going to let him.
The record skips. He holds out his hand, more like a gentleman than a biker gang killer, and helps you off the counter.
“Hold on, let me pick out a new record,” you turn without waiting for his confirmation, not at all surprised when Marko follows hot on your heels to the back room. Your boss’ office, the record room. Whatever you wanted to call it. His hands ghost over your arms as you push past the wooden bead curtain to enter the room. You can feel his presence close enough to touch. That's it, right where I want you. There’s his voice again.
He lets you actually pick out a new record. You slide it out of the sleeve and walk it over to the player. The static buzzes and pops as the needle finds the groove.
“Ocean Rain, you heard it?” No. He shakes his head, and you can feel it as he leans into your back.
“Echo and the Bunnymen. They've got a new album coming out this year.”
You turn to face him and his fingerless leather glove clad hands cover your cheeks.
He kisses you gently, tenderly. Not at all the way you’d expect. He’s eager, kissing like there’s something to prove. He licks his way into your mouth, tongue pushing your lips apart and you let him. His arms tighten around you as you kiss, tongues now greeting each other playfully. Your tongue explores his mouth, running along each and every tooth in his mouth. Huh, no fangs, you realize, and maybe he isn't actually a vampire. As if he reads your mind (maybe he does), he pulls away.
“They're, uh, hiding,’ he nods, almost to himself more than you. You nod as well, slow and uneasy, not quite believing him, but he pulls you back into a harsh kiss, more of what you expected. His hands roam your body as yours bury themselves in his curls. Still damp, but long and beautiful just as well. He shrugs the jacket off his shoulders, and his hands only briefly leave you to throw it and his gloves somewhere else, leaving him just in a thin white tank top. His mouth leaves yours to trail lower, kissing your neck. Your pulse point. Fucking irresistable. No, that's definitely his voice. Is this the end? Could be.
“I can smell you, hot stuff,” he moans into your ear, sending shivers down your spine. You find yourself gripping onto his shoulders a little tighter, but he lets you sink. He guides you, again more gently than you thought he would; bare knees brushing the threadbare carpet floor before you plant yourself. You look up at him through your lashes and he all but bites back a groan.
“You gonna join me down here?” You lick your lips, waiting for something.
“Nah, I’m gonna let you have a head start,” there's a joke in his tone. You're learning that’s normal for him. He’s silent, or playing jester. It’ll be interesting when you let him fuck you. Shit, did he hear that?
“Quit thinkin’ so loud!” he runs an affectionate hand through your hair. “But yes, I heard you. Glad you're as eager as I am.”
That's encouraging. You take your time undoing his belt, connected to faded and soft leather chaps, not bothering to push them down his thighs before you move to the top of his jeans, teasing your fingers at the skin just above the waistline. He shudders under your touch, extremely reactive. Does he get touched like this often? Or is it just quick fucks? You don't want to think about who else he might be doing this with, focusing again on his body, and all of the offending clothing covering it. You unbutton them slowly, teasing. For a member of the undead, he seems to be out of breath under your movements. The zipper is pulled down just as slowly. You run your palms flat along the bottom of his stomach, to his hips before pushing his jeans down to around his ankles, hooking his boxers on your finger along with them. He’s beautiful, and you can help but stare. Hard, eager, and thick, greeting you with a small trimmed patch of golden blonde curls. You wrap your hand around the base.
You never expected a vampire to whimper, but that's exactly what happens when your tongue darts out of your mouth to lick the head of his cock. Quick, tentative little lick, testing the waters. Your tongue swipes across the slit at the tip of his thick member and his hands animate like you flipped a switch, rising up, going to your hair, rising up again, slamming down against the desk. Your boss’ desk. You lick a long stripe to the underside of his cock, paying close attention to the prominent vein there.
“So good, so good, oh you feel so-” he pants out, hands white knuckling the edge of the desk. Heat pools in your core, loving that he’s so vocal. Fuck, if he could just keep speaking. Your other hand moves to your shorts, sloppily and hastily undoing them and wiggling them down to your knees. You wrap your lips around the head of his cock and sink down on it, taking him as far as you can, until you couch when he hits the back of your throat.
“You look fucking beautiful like that. Please move, Please move, you’re so fucking good at this.”
You do, starting to bob your head up and down on the length of him, hollowing out your cheeks and flattening your tongue against him, cupping and massaging his balls in your hand. Your free finds itself between your legs, rubbing gently at your clit, stirred and encouraged by his praise.
“Does sucking me off get you hot and bothered?” Yesitdoes.
You keep bobbing your head, rubbing your clit, eyes trained on his until his eyes squeeze shut. His cock twitches in your mouth.
“Don't wanna- don't wanna finish in your mouth,” he’s urgent, grabbing you by the chin and pulling your mouth off of his cock. He pushes you back by your shoulders, letting you guide yourself back to lay on the rug. He pulls your loose shorts easily off your legs and settles himself between your legs, too eager to bother with removing his boots and everything.
“I’ve been wanting to do this for so long. Do you know how bad I wanted this?”
“Fuck me, Marko, dont say it. Just do it,” youre breathless under him, wanting nothing more than for him to be fucking you. He pauses.
“I dunno…” his thumb swipes up along your clit, drawing a whine from your throat, “For some reason I think you like it when I say things.”
You nod, knowing words will fail you. And he gives you what you want, lining himself up and sinking into you, groaning as he buries his head into the crook of your neck.
“Oh I knew your pussy would feel like fucking heaven,” he pants against your neck, pressing a harsh kiss to the underside of your jaw. He sets the pace quickly, unmerciful and fast, fucking hard and deep into you. His hands push up your thin tee shirt, and you can feel his sigh of relief when he gets a handful of bare breast. He doesn't have to deal with a bra tonight. You hike your knees up, opening yourself as much as you can to him, wanting him to fill you to the brim. He looks into your eyes while he fucks you, which comes as a surprise to you. Maybe it shouldn't. You wonder what it would be like to be a victim of his. Does he treat them well? Have fun with them like this? Or is he vicious? You don't know if you could picture him like that… vamped out.
“What does it feel like?”
“What?” he thrusts sharply, snapping his hips into you, making you yelp.
“To be fed on, but not to die.”
Are you serious? You hear him in your head.
YesIam. He thrusts like that again, earning an identical yelp, now coupled with your thighs squeezing him around the middle. You're close already, and he can tell.
He nods, a question; You nod, confirmation.
He pulls at the neckline of your shirt, already scooping so it doesn’t ruin, and exposes your shoulder. Somewhere non lethal. His other hand comes up to grip your jaw, covering your neck but being careful not to squeeze it. You hope he bruises your jaw, you realize. A physical way to feel him when dawn comes. He slows his pace to a rocking, grinding into you, staying deep.
Then he bites. Stars erupt behind your eyes, and it feels like your blood has turned to seltzer. Every nerve in your body is in overdrive as you moan and shake and come undone around his cock. You're the kind of girl that comes from the bite of a vampire, apparently. He doesn’t let up. You can faintly hear him moaning against the open wound in your shoulder, and you hope you taste good to him. He licks the wound a few times more, softly, carefully, like he’s trying to soothe you when he finally lets you come down from your high.
When he pulls back to let you see him, his features are gruesome, full vampire with sharp brows and cheekbones, pointed nose even that much more so almost birdlike. Fangs and bottom half of his face covered in blood.Your blood.  He’s panting like an animal after the kill. But he doesn't scare you. Maybe he should, but he doesn't.  It's just Marko, no matter what, and if he wanted to eat you he would have. Several times now. His hand finally releases your jaw, to wipe the blood from his face. He wipes his hand then on your face, covering you in your own blood, hot on his fingers and palm.
“Fuckin sexy,” he pants, voice deeper and distorted. His thrusts speed up, trying to find his own release as your nails dig into his back, maybe making him bleed as well. You feel the rug burn forming on your back, you feel tears in your eyes. It's never felt this good with other guys.
When he comes, he comes with a howl, buried deep inside you as he shouts and shivers then stills above you. Your chest is heaving, trying to regain yourself as his face slowly fades to normal, and he slumps down on top of you. He buries his face in the crook of your neck, near the wound he tore open, now no longer bleeding. He mouths at any bare skin he can find, lazy half kisses as he spreads more mess and blood on you. Your fingers find his curls again, winding them around your digits as you stare up at the sickly green mood lighting bathing the walls of the room.
An hour later, Marko is helping you lock up early.
He makes sure to dump out all of the ashes from spliffs and incense, makes sure the vinyl is all in its right place while you make sure the register and inventory is all in its rightful place and order.
“You’re dangerous, you know.”
“Me?” you scoff, “That rich, coming from you.”
I’d do a lot of things I’m not supposed to for you. You kinda don't want to ask him what he means by that. For some reason that feels like a conversation you shouldn't have tonight. 
He leaves the store before you, holding the door open for you and letting you lock the doors. He slings an easy arm over your shoulder, not bothering to shield either of you from the rain as he steers you towards your car. You can feel the rain cleaning your face, the blood flowing away and saving you the shower you were going to take before collapsing into bed tonight.
“Where’s your bike?”
“I flew here,” he says with that devilish smile, and you're really not sure if he's joking or not. Your arm sneaks its way into his jacket and wraps around his waist, holding him close as he makes sure you get home same. Marko makes you feel calm, in a way you didn't feel before you moved to Santa Carla. How long had he been waiting to make his move? And does this mean he and his brothers would be coming around more often? Maybe being more friendly towards you. Each step towards your car feels heavy; You don't want to go home alone without him, but somehow you know he won't come with you. 
“Will I see you again?”
He grabs your car keys from your hand, and sticks them in the door handle. Of course you will.
Right. You just have to be near the beach at night. You know, where you work.
He kisses you full on the mouth, holding you close and tight, like you could slip away at any second. When he finally lets you go you pull away to be met with his face, full on grinning, his eyes still closed from the kiss. He doesn't look like a killer.
Marko watches you as you pull open the door to your car and more or less throw your ass into the seat.  He holds the door as he gives you one last smile, and says:
“You know, you should never invite a vampire into your life. Renders you powerless.”
And he winks. 
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ghost-kitty · 4 years ago
Note
Ok, this was VERY difficult, but here I go: Nsfw. Phone sex. Lawlu. AU 💕😍
Anything for you my love <3 I hope you like it!!! uwu
Something feels wrong, Law thinks as he wets his finger to turn the page of his novel – a cheesy romance story that he’s only reading because Shachi recommended it to him. The bastard. ‘You will absolutely love it,’ he said, ‘the main character is a doctor,’ he said. Yeah, only that he forgot to mention how fucking bad and cheesy it is. But he keeps reading it anyway because the medical inaccuracies are kind of cracking him up. Only internally of course. Maybe a slightly louder exhale through the nose here and there.
It’s entertaining if he’s being honest and yet he very much intends to give Shachi an earful later.
He’s cozy, sitting on his comfortable couch in his pajama pants and his favorite fluffy blanket with polar bears on it wrapped around him. A cup of freshly made coffee nearby to round it all up. A perfect way to spend his day off, really. But…
There’s something missing.
But what could it be? He has everything he needs to spend the entire day in perfect peace and quiet...
Ah. That’s it.
He loves to have some silence and time to himself to relax. It’s just that since Luffy moved in with him, he hardly ever gets it nowadays. And now that he finally has some time to himself without a shouting nuisance around it feels kind of… weird.
He really was looking forward to this week, with Luffy gone to visit his grandfather with his two brothers. But now that his energetic ball of sunshine isn’t around to get on his nerves he actually really misses it. Oh what can he say; Law just really loves his boyfriend despite him always nagging about Luffy’s loud nature.
As if on cue his phone starts buzzing. Law smiles softly when he reads Luffy’s name on the screen. The smile disappears soon though to make place for his jaw to drop to the floor.
He can’t believe what he’s seeing. He expected to see his adorable boyfriend to smile his bright grin at him when he saw that there is a picture attached. What he didn’t expect though was to open the file to not see a smile on his boyfriend’s face, but a small ‘o’ formed by his rosy lips instead. His big eyes are glazed and filled with lust, soft skin covered in a thin sheen of sweat and good lord – Law gulps – three fingers deep inside his asshole.
“Torao~  I miss u” reads the message but Law can’t even really piece the letters together to understand the sentence. His brain is reeling as he takes in the sight of his beautiful boyfriend, naked and probably breathing heavily. Fuck! His pajamas are already tenting, his cock now wide awake and interested.
The next message comes soon.
“Torao I’m so lonely… I miss your cock so much!”
Before Law even can make any sense of the situation his phone buzzes again. Another picture.
Law almost drops his phone to the floor as he opens the message, hands trembling from excitement.
Subconsciously he has started to palm himself through his pants and he licks his lips as he stares at the image.
Luffy has his legs spread wide open, the arm holding the camera probably hooked underneath his knee to get the right angle. Oh and what a heavenly angle it is!
His cute little cock is pressed flush against his abs, balls looking full and heavy and fuck… his hole is stretched wide open and gaping. The picture is slightly blurry probably due to Luffy’s hand shaking. He can see it in his mind perfectly, how Luffy is panting and trembling as he pleasures himself, soft moans escaping his lush lips.
Shit! He could cum right then and there just from remembering how hot and tight his hole is, how it clenches around his cock while he mercilessly pounds him into the mattress until he can only whine Law’s name in ecstasy.
He takes a few labored breaths, trying to calm down a bit before he finally answers.
“Fuck baby, are you that needy? Missing my cock that much already?”
His phone vibrates again, only this time it’s a call. Law answers it immediately and god is he glad that he did. Luffy should always greet him with such a sinful moan. “Law,” he mewls, his voice weak and hoarse. “I- ah… I miss your cock so much… please… Need to hear your v-voice!”
That’s it! Law can’t wait any longer. He pulls his throbbing cock out of his pants and starts to stroke himself in the same rhythm as Luffy’s ragged little huffs coming through the speaker. “Fuck baby,” he growls, “you’re such a naughty boy. Aren’t you worried about your family hearing your filthy little moans?”
“N-no… they are out of the h-hah house…”
Law speeds up his pace, jerking off ferociously. “Oh yeah? How comes, that they left you behind?”
“Law-!”
“Tell me!” he demands, getting a needy whine as a reward.
“I… I told them that I’m n-not feeling well…”
Law smirks. “Oh? You lied so you can send me all these lewd pictures to get me all hot and bothered? What a good boy you are.”
The teen lets out a loud moan, almost sending Law over the edge with how sensual it sounds. “What are you doing?” he then asks, stilling his hand for a moment to prevent himself from coming too soon. This is way too much fun to end it already.
“Fi-fingering my ass… god Law… I want your cock! Please, please I need it so bad!”
He decides to have mercy with his boyfriend. After all he has been a very good slut, begging so sweetly. Fumbling with his phone he finally manages to take a picture of his rock hard cock, tattooed hand gripping the girthy shaft, tip red and swollen and shiny with pre-cum.
The line is silent for a while after he sent the picture, the loud pants coming from Luffy the only sound to break the silence.
“La-ah!” Luffy suddenly moans - no screams - loud and unashamed. He knows that tone, the shaky voice. Luffy is close.
“Hey,” Law warns, “don’t cum just yet!”
“Love your cock… oh god Law I love your cock so much!”
He can see it before his eyes, how Luffy’s face is flushed in a nice pink color, his chin messy with drool and eyes rolling back into his skull. He’s seen it so many times but this time… this time Law got him there just from sending him a picture of his dick. It twitches in his hand at the thought, swelling even more alongside his ego.
“Of course you love my cock, baby. You’re a good little slut after all. Are you thinking about how good it feels to get fucked open by my fat cock, huh? How your tight little pussy has to stretch so much to take all of it?”
Luffy whimpers weakly, his ability to speak long gone.
Law grips his cock tighter, relishing in the feeling and the mental image of Luffy riding him into kingdom cum. “Fuck baby… I wish I could be there with you. I would fuck you so good. Would fuck your cute little hole open until you don’t even remember your own name.”
“Hah… Law…”
The noises coming from Luffy are so sinfully hot, Law almost loses control completely. He’s painfully close by now, dick almost hurting from holding back. He keeps stroking his length though, the pleasure way too intense. “Tell me what you want to do, baby,” he demands, knowing full well that it’s torture for Luffy to be ordered to speak. A smirk tugs at his lips when he hears the teen’s desperate moan.
“Want to…,” he croaks, “want you to fuck my mouth… hah…”
“Of course. Good little slut, you love to choke on my dick, don’t you?”
“Yes love it, love it! Please Law… I’m so… ah… close!”
“I would fuck your little throat so good baby. You’d like that, yeah? Love it when I shove my cock deep down your throat until it bruises.”
“Ye- ahhh!”
“Or do you want to get on all fours for me, hm? Lifting your perfect little ass up in the air for me to take.”
Luffy is blabbering unintelligibly; the only thing Law can make out is his name occasionally leaving his boyfriend’s lips between the other slurred nonsense.  
His own cock aches in his hand, begging for release as he strokes himself closer and closer to his orgasm.
“I would fuck you so hard; you would come from just my dick up your ass baby.”
“Please,” he begs softly, “Please Law… wanna cum…”
His voice sounds weak as he repeatedly begs Law to let him have his release. It’s easy to imagine the debauched look on his face. It’s one of Law’s favorite looks on him. Suits him so well... Even more so when his flustered cheeks are painted white with Law’s semen.
“Fuck baby, you’re such a good little whore for me. So perfect. Want to fill you up… want to shoot my whole load inside you and watch it dribble out of your gaping hole… Fuck! Baby cum for me!”
Finally getting Law’s permission is all it takes for Luffy to come undone. He whimpers loudly, chants his lover’s name again and again during his orgasm; the sound so sweet, it’s enough to push Law over the edge too. He comes in hot spurts all over his hand and dirtying his pants. Not that he cares about that in his state of total bliss.
They bask in their afterglow for a while; neither of them saying a word, too occupied with trying to get their breathing back under control anyway.
“Torao.” Luffy breaks the silence first, his voice hoarse. “I love you.”
Law smiles softly. “I love you too baby.”
“I miss you…”
God what he wouldn’t give to kiss his little sunshine now…
“It’s only a few days, baby. You’ll be back in no time. And until then you can enjoy the time together with you family.”
“…can we have lots of sex when I’m back?”
Law chuckles. As if he could ever say no to hot sex with the man he loves so much. “Yes of course,” he agrees easily.
“And lots of cuddles too?”
“Yes. Lots of cuddles too. Are you tired baby?”
“Yes, ‘m sleepy now,” he mumbles. So adorable.
“Okay baby, go to sleep. But don’t forget to clean up first.” He smiles at Luffy’s muttered ‘yeah’ and then adds: “And Luffy?”
“Hm?”
“Thank you for the nice surprise.”
He can feel Luffy’s smile through the phone and his heart starts to flutter uncontrollably. “I love you.”
“I love you too. Bye Torao…”
They end the call and Law sighs as he suddenly gets aware of the mess he made. He quickly cleans himself up and throws his ruined pajamas in the laundry.
After cleaning up and changing into a new pair of comfy pants he makes himself comfortable on the couch again, a satisfied smirk on his lips.
“This really is a perfect day off,” he thinks. “Now back to this shitty book.”
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maruzzewrites · 5 years ago
Note
i read u dont take requests but i was curious if i could please have ghiaccio and sere nere? just ignore this if youre busy though
Ghiaccio liked his car, he loved to driveand he didn’t mind showing off how expensive, uselessly so, his vehicle was. Hewas the type to dart around the streets of Naples just to make the engine roar,unconcerned with the eyerolls of people and the jabs at his need to compensate.And that was exactly why he hated, with the deepest loathing inside of his soul,when he had to stuck in traffic, left in a sea of cars and noisy people as hewatched the clock of his own vehicle tick away with the time passing.
He hated it in particular after a mission,when he was on the highway to come back home and he found queues of carswaiting to pass and move forward. Just like in that precise moment. With a loudgroan, he stopped right behind jalopy that belonged in a dump and his grip onthe wheel tightened to the point his knuckles became white. He took a quickglance over the street, to check the state of the traffic, and threw his headback to hit the padding of the seat with a barely choked yell of frustration.Slumping, he barely managed to keep his feet on the pedals, and he had half anidea of turning off the engine completely just to relax his legs.
As minutes stretched into hours, Ghiacciowas getting progressively more furious. His teammates even called him to knowwhere he was, they needed the report to cash in the money of the mission, butlaughed right in his face when he explained his predicament. With his nervesalready strained, he resisted the urge to turn on the radio, because then hewas sure he’d find something idiotic in the way a singer worded their lyrics orin the news. And if he got angry, he’d punch the stereo until it broke again,which would only sour his mood at the thought of spending his newly earnedmoney on repairing it. Then that concept would make him degenerate either intopressing down the accelerator pedal and cause an incident, or trash his ownplace once he got home and he didn’t want to deal with the mess the day after.
He breathed through gritted teeth,forceful. He was tired of moving agonizingly slow, only a few meters every fewminutes, as the sound of the car penetrated inside his brain. He attempted tolet him mind wander, to get off his seat with his imagination, but he felt likehe was anchored in the boring present. He just wanted to get home, take off hisshoes, the sweaty clothes, then eat something he would order. Too tired tocook, he didn’t have anyone who he could call to let them know he would be lateand they could wrap a nice dinner to leave inside the oven.
That thought was a simple flash, but itleft a trail behind itself. His grip was painful for his fingers now, and heattempted to ease the strain on his hands. He noticed the car in front of himmoved, so he pressed down on the pedal and moved forward with so little speedthat he didn’t even bounce slightly when the braked. As soon as his mind wasn’tpreoccupied with the need to drive properly, the reflection came back to himand, for someone who didn’t know Ghiaccio, he looked almost aloof in spite ofhis usual temper. But his jaw was clenched, his legs tense, his knuckles pale,as memories upon memories swirled inside his head with lucid and annoyingclarity.
You didn’t leave anything behind for himto really remember, and he presumed it made sense because the break up happenedmonths ago. Yet, somehow, the memories still lingered to cut him deep enough toburn. When he woke up, it wasn’t the empty bed to really upset him, but the lackof another cup inside the sink or of the coffee pot waiting for him on thestove. It was the absence of the murmur of the television while you checked thenews, the weather forecast or simply the first program that caught your interestwhile you didn’t even see him get out of the room.
The car before him moved again, and withhis feet on the pedal, the memory faded and was blown away from his mind as thewheels turned again. Then again, still in the sea of metal and tired faces thatwas the traffic to enter Naples. The day the two of you decided to go to thebeach together came back to him because he recalled how your head restedagainst the window as he ranted, ranted, ranted against the convoy of carsmoving so slowly, about the horrible idea of going away so late and being caughtin the traffic. In hindsight, Ghiaccio could see you wanted to simply rest thatday, to spend time with him at the beach and then nap during the drive back,but his yells didn’t allow you to close your eyes.
His jaw clenched again, with painfulforce, and he forced the memory down. He tried to think about anything else,but he had a hard time letting go once his focus was on his past. He hatedbeing idle like that for that exact reason, because his mind would centeraround something useless or idiotic, and he would have to deal with theinability to stop thinking. He tapped his fingers nervously against the wheel,trying to fight against the bubbling rage inside of his body, into his bloodstream,and a flood of other thoughts occupied his mind. This time, despite thepossibility to move forward, Ghiaccio couldn’t focus on the car in front ofhim.
You would have called him already at thishour, he considered after a quick peek at the clock, you would have beenworried about his whereabouts. Because of his job, you tended to concernyourself with business that didn’t affect you, and he would have simply harshlytold you that same thought with the little foresight of keeping his volumelower than he was used to. You would sigh, and he would have hated the soundcoming from the speaker. He glanced at the phone thrown on the passenger’s seat;he didn’t miss your sighs, or your misplaced apprehension, but he rememberedhow he anticipated a call the days following the break up.
He wasn’t the type to complain about thosefutile things, he would raise his voice and lose his temper over his rank in Passioneor about his paycheck, about the misuse of language or the weird ways of saying.But breaking up with his partner was nothing too important after all, he was amobster and an assassin, he shouldn’t get involved with romantic relationshipsanyway. He even demanded reasons, and he deemed what they said stupid, uselessworries that would be countered by the pros he could bring on the table. But theydidn’t seem to care about his reasoning, just walking away as he started toyell louder, looking around to find something breakable.
A horn pierced through his thoughts and hefelt like he was woken up from a slumber, pissed off and still exhausted. Lookahead of him, he noticed how there were several meters distancing his car fromthe wreck in front of him, so he pressed down the pedal and approached the rearof the vehicle with a bit too much speed for such a short distance. Once he wasstill again, he looked at the rearview mirror to look the driver behind him inthe eyes and flipped them off for the previous honking. He ignored the annoyedlook on their face and looked, focused on the road ahead. It seemed like thetraffic was starting to scatter, to move quicker.
With the sudden relief of moving with morefluidity, without the oppressive cage of cars around him. A few more minutes, halfan hour, and he was out of that nightmare. He didn’t have the time to continuewith his train of thought as he drove around the steep streets of Naples toreach his own apartment. The report and the mission be damned, he needed to cooloff in an environment he felt safe, cozy. He parked at his usual spot, but acar was way too close and badly positioned, making the maneuver more difficultthat necessary. Ghiaccio felt fury well up, his nerves tested after too muchstrain, and he kicked the door of the car as he passed by, leaving a visibledent.
With a growl, he walked to the door of thebuilding, climbed the stairs and slammed the door when he got inside his ownhome. The sun wasn’t setting yet, but it didn’t reach the windows that facedthe wall of the building nearby, so the main room was casted in darkness when helooked around. He could see the outline of the sofa, of the television, the barrentable and the arch that separated the kitchen from the living room, but it wasonly thanks to his memory. He felt a slight stinging sensation at theemptiness, the silence that came after the rumble of the slammed door wasdistant. He masked that hurt with a new surge of irritation.
He threw his shoes to the side, walked tothe couch, just to lie down without too much hesitation. His mind wandered tothe memory of your hands playing his hair so many times before, and he groanedloudly. He sat up, took off his glasses and slumped back down with theintention to simply sleep, forget all about the day he just had, about themission and the traffic, the break up and everything in between. He was hungry,he felt dirty and sweaty, but he couldn’t bring himself to stand up for such a pointlessmotive.  
And if you were there you would nag at himto sit at the table and eat the food you left for him, that you would get histhings ready for the shower before you went to bed. He gritted his teeth, theimage clear as day behind his eyelids, as he could hear every single note ofyour voice and observe every twitch of your muscles as you moved around theapartment. As if you left a trail for his mind to follow when his attentiondidn’t focus on anything, when he would allow himself to relax even a littlebit.
He sat up again, looking over the backrestof the sofa, over the kitchen. Unused, clean, he wasn’t even sure he had foodaround and he did tell himself he would order something to eat. But he couldn’tallow himself, not when everything became a little more blue when he was idle,and he could feel the red and white hotness of rage inside of him trying toreclaim his mood. Because if he allowed the anger to take over in order tosuffocate the sadness, he would break something he didn’t need or reminded himof you, and he would have to deal with it the next day. He would let you win somehow,a race you didn’t even want to participate in, but that he set up with himself onlyto prove himself he didn’t need you.
He stood up and he went to the kitchen,fishing for the few ingredients he had around. He settled for carbonara, evenif he didn’t have the right meat for it and he would bitch and moan tomorrow tothe poor teammate who would collect his report. But Ghiaccio could accept thatanger, he didn’t mind his temper when it came to language or traditions, to hispaycheck or his team’s rank. Because if he was screaming about those things, hewasn’t thinking of your absence. He could fill the silence if he was loud, and eventuallyhe would just grow from this, get over it. It wasn’t like he was dead, afterall.  
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magnet20203 · 5 years ago
Text
944
Genre: Smut, (Angst?)
Ship: Reader x sub! Seokjin
Warnings: oral(female receiving), over stimulation, car sex, degrading, underage sex(both are underage, does that still count?)
Notes: This really basic, but it’s something I’ve been throwing around for a little while. There’s probably some mistakes that I didn’t notice, and it’s really fast paced, but oh well, enjoy. 
“What’re you acting so jittery about?” her voice was smooth, flowing like velvet from her lips to grace his awaiting ears.
“H-Hmm? No-nothing, why?” his voice, bland and unsteady, could never match the beauty of hers. 
“Oh c’mon, there’s something bothering you, is it this party? Are you just nervous to be around so many people?” again, he couldn’t help but admire the silky tone of her. The one he’d imagined begging for him so many times, or whispering dirty things in his ear. But of course that was just his imagination, that would never actually happen, and he didn’t expect it to.
“N-no, its just that...well you’re-no nev-never mind, it’s nothing,” he couldn’t bring himself to say it; to tell her that while they were friends, he was still a man, and wearing such a tiny dress around him might not be the best idea, especially with his mind running wild.
“Jin, what’s wrong? You can tell me anything, I won’t judge,” she further prodded. Oh how she would, if she found the reason for his jumpy behavior was none other than her. 
“It’s just that...well your-your dress is kind of....I don’t know, revealing?” he whispered the last part, eyes turned down to the floor, his face redder than the skanky dress that adhered to her curvy form. 
“What?” 
“I said, your dress is too short, and I think you’re forgetting that I’m a guy,” he answered with a new found confidence, really just embarrassment to the next degree. 
When she didn’t reply he continued, “I-I know, I’m a pervert, but your dress is really too short, and-and...I can’t help it.” 
At that she stood up, heading straight for the door, he was quickly in toe, knowing damn well what she was doing. She was going to leave him there, miles from home, all alone with knowledge of no one else, and no way to get back safely.
“(Y/n), wait!”
“What do you want, Seokjin?” her previously satiny tone was now filled with anger and annoyance, at none other than him.
“Plea-please don’t leave me here like this,” he begged. 
“Get fucked, you sick bastard,” she scoffed, turning back towards her car, a maroon Porsche 944. The pit in his stomach grew deeper, that was not at all what he had meant. 
“N-No, wait, please! I-I didn’t mean it like that! Take-take me home, please.” Again it came out wrong, but he had the best intentions. There was barely anything within walking distance, and he wasn’t to sure about staying in such a place.
She stopped for a moment, standing completely still, before abruptly yelling at him to get in the car. 
The silence in the air was intense, but neither of them could be bothered to break it. While he was fearing anything from their forever broken friendship, to being dumped face down in a ditch somewhere, she was inwardly smirking. She had known about his pathetic little crush for quite some time. At first she had found the idea repulsive, but as time went on she had slowly fell for him as well. To say she had planned the entire event of which had just occurred would be a downright lie. However, she had been hoping for something of the sort to happen soon enough. She’d been dropping hints for weeks now, but his ignorant little brain just couldn’t seem to pick up on them. For her it was merely a sexual desire, but for him it was much more, and she had come to realize that. Perhaps this had even kick started a few feelings within her, but she’d have to come to face those later. 
“You’re disgusting, you know that?”
“Y-es, I know,” he seemed so weak now, contrary to his usual persona,it was really beginning to turn her on knowing that she was getting to him. 
“I mean, to think that you got a boner just from looking at me in this dress, it’s not even that short!” That was a lie, and she knew it. She’d worn such a dress in hopes of catching his eye. “Even if it was, we’re friends, and that’s it!”
“I-I’m sorry, this shouldn’t be happening. It-it really doesn't mean anything, you-you could be any girl wearing that dress and it would’ve happened,” he stated in attempt to at least fix something, though he knew it was a lie. Had any other girl been wearing that dress he would’ve though of her as a slut, but (Y/n), no that just wasn’t to be. 
“Oh, so any other girl and you would’ve made a move on her? Wow, you really are a perv.”
“No, th-that’s not what I meant-” before he could finish she began, this was sure to be the final blow.
“Just like you didn’t mean you wanted me to ‘help’ you out back there? I bet you’ve been thinking about that all night, huh? About taking me to the bathroom and taking advantage of me,” her voice came off as hateful and angry, but on the inside she was far from. 
“N-no! I would never do anything like that!” now his voice came out in high pitched squeaks, his mind was racing. What if she’d known about his crush? She probably thought he was going to do something to her. Oh god, she probably hated him. 
She slowed the car, and pulled off to the side just beside some large pines. Luckily, she had taken the back road, meaning that there would be little to no traffic to bother them. 
His eyes widened and his heart pounding against his rib cage. This was it, this was were he came to an end. 
“What’re y-ou doing?!” he asked frantically, trying, but failing, to keep the urgency out of his voice. 
“You know, Seokjin? I wouldn’t have minded that, and now we’re alone, maybe I could help you? Or you could, you know, help me,” her tone was sultry as she bit her lower lip, watching his already wide eyes seemingly get wider. 
He couldn’t properly form words, everything around him was a blur expect her. He was suddenly hyper aware of her hand placed on his knee, oh so slowly finding its way to higher ground until it sat firmly against his clothed erection. 
“(Y-Y/n),” he stuttered, eyes flickering between her hand and her face. He didn’t know to make of the situation, so he simply went along, placing his much larger hand over hers. 
“You’d like that, wouldn’t you?” she asked, moving ever so close as to brush her lips against his, not a enough to be a kiss, but just to tease him.
He was incredibly lost, first she was nagging him, shaming him for his natural urges. And now she was carrying out the beginning of a fantasy he’d dreamt millions of times. Part of him was waiting to be awoken, but the other half knew what he was experiencing was real. 
Her hand dipped into the waist band of his jeans daintly, before slowly picking up speed, enough to make him squirm under her. Never had he imagined her taking control, but he wasn’t complaining in the slightest. Soon he’s bucking against her hand, eager for more, however this action only made her stop, pulling away from him entirely. 
“I’m sorry, you don’t like this do you?” she pouted, though she knew just how much he was enjoying himself. 
“No, please keep going, this is amazing,” he whined, already so fucked out she had to repress a wide smirk.
“Why don’t you show me how amazing it is then?” her tone was sultry, and her eyes expectant as she stared him down, waiting impatiently for an answer.
“O-okay, u-um, what do you-”
“I think you owe me a bit of a favor,” she stated, though it was more of an order than a statement. 
“Anything,” he was quick to reply, though his voice was extremely unsteady and his breathing abnormally fast. 
“Why don’t you help me out?” she posed, teasing the lacy black fringe at around the waistband of her panties.
“ H-How so?”
“With your mouth, I don’t want your disgusting little cock anywhere near me,” she growled, keeping a fierce eye contact that pierced through his soul.
He was a bit hurt by that, but the idea of eating her out excited him further and he was quick to agree. Hesitantly reaching a hand out to her, yet not touching her in fear of being punished, though it was first time being dominated he was a surprisingly good listener. 
“Hmm, good boy,” she hummed, grabbing the hem of his shirt before he could touch her, tugging it over his head. He wasn’t much, but defiantly more than she had expected. He skin looked smooth enough to ruin, and boy did she want to, but that dream would be saved for another day, of that she had no doubt. 
She moved to bind both hands behind his back with his shirt, setting her core against his now obvious erection. A quick and nearly silent moan slipped past his parted lips, and in deciding that she wanted to hear more of him. she ground her hips against downwards, eliciting another breathy whimper. 
“B-but I need-”
“But nothing, unless you want to forget about all of this and go home?” she raised an eyebrow at him, before continuing off his lap to remove her dress, which didn’t cover much anyway, entirely, as well as her ruined panties. Then forcing him into a rather uncomfortably position on the floor. 
His gaze was glued to her core in unmasked desire and excitement, and she could see his length twitch through his jeans. 
“Well, get on with it,” she urged, and he quickly obeyed, leaning forward to connected his bitten lips with her lower ones. Her hands entangled in his chocolate brown locks, pulling him closer as his tongue finally dipped between her folds. 
“Mm, good boy,” she groaned, throwing her head back and tightening her grip on his hair. 
He hummed against her, sending shocks of pleasure up and down her spine, and making her buck against his face. He continued to lave his tongue against her core, occasionally slipping it into her, making her arch her back, but it was evident he wasn’t so skilled in this department either. His work was messy, and not so much in the good way, of course it still felt amazing, yet he was hesitant. Occasionally she got a taste of his pleasure as well, relishing in the small whines and breathy moans that escaped each time he pulled back to breath. 
She could have only imagined how painful it must of been for him; serving the girl he had dreamt about for months on end, only to be left empty handed. This only riled her up more, teetering her closer and closer to the edge. If she looked enough, she could see the obvious tent in his pants, begging for some type of stimulation it wouldn’t be getting. 
“Am I your first?” she asked, voice hoarse and low. He hummed against her, in an attempt at a yes, now aware of his mediocre work. The pleasure fogging his brain turned to worry, all he wanted was to please her, but his lack of experience was forbidding him. She gave a low giggle, ruffling his hair. “You’re really good, little one.”
He tried to break away, but she wouldn’t allow him, pulling his hair again like the reins on a horse. He made some noise of protest, before deciding that her happiness meant more than his, and continued bringing her closer to the edge she so desired. 
Finally the coil in her stomach snapped with a high pitched moan, but he refused to stop, lapping up her juices which now coated his face. She pulled him back, his adam’s apple protruding from his neck beautifully, pupils dilated, and already pouty lips swollen and open just a smidge as he struggled to catch his breath. 
“That was incredible, baby,” she praised, untying his arms from behind him, brushing his erection hard enough to excite a reaction, yet light enough to seem an accident. A quiet whimper fell past his lips, and while it twisted something deep inside her she made no acknowledgement of it. 
After proceeding to dress, they were back driving, but most times her eyes weren’t on the road, instead settling on the squirming boy beside her; but eye contact once stops her. It’s easy, far to easy, to tell what he’s feeling, she almost feels sorry for him. 
“Tell you what,” she begins, and his eyes are quickly on her, begging her for some sort of relief, “ if you beg for it like a good boy, you can touch yourself, but if you get a drop, and a mean a drop, of cum on my car, you’ll be cleaning the floor mats with your tongue.”
“Y-Y-es ma’am,”
At first he’s silent, and she wonders if maybe he’s to prideful, and maybe he was, but soon enough the smallest “please,” emerges into the air. 
“Please what?”
“Can-can I please-please t-touch....?”
“Why should you? All you’ve done is be rude. First you insulted my dress, and then told me that planned on taking advantage of me, why in the world do you deserve any sort of pleasure?” she asked, just a bit to harshly. 
“You-you to-ok advantage of me.” His protest is nearly silent, yet she manages to catch it. 
“I took advantage of you? Please, you’ve wanted this to happen for ages, do you think I didn’t know about you pathetic little crush?” 
“I-I’m so-” he tried to apologize, however she’s fed up with his attitude. 
“Take your pants off, now,” she orders 
He was quick to obey, sliding the rough fabric off, and setting it to the floor, before carefully pulling the black waist band of his boxers down, and placing the emerald item of clothing next to his jeans. 
She couldn’t be bothered to look at him, and instead ordered him to touch himself, soon enough he was teetering at the very edge. 
“Ah, (Y-Y/n), I’m-I’m so...so close,” he groaned, not bothering to slow down as his hips bucked up into his palm. 
“Stop,”
Though it took him a moment or two, he pulled away completely with a loud gulp, and shaky breath afterwards. Though the few glances she could still of him were short, the tears pooling in the corners of his big doe eyes were pronounced. The red tint covering his cheeks, almost matched that of the aching tip of his cock. He needed stimulation, any type he could get.  
“Pl-ease, Noona, please, please, please.” Suddenly his attitude had completely dissolved, the need of pleasure trumping pride. 
She was quick to act, wrapping a firm hand around the base of him, squeezing a little to tight, than starting off faster than she should have. His orgasm had all but faded, and soon enough his was cumming; head thrown back in pure bliss, sweat drenched locks sticking to his forehead, profanities spilling from his open mouth, as he dirtied her hand. She didn’t give in. 
After his little ordeal, he wouldn’t be getting off easy, literally. She continued on through his begging and protests, tears dripping down his face as his hips bounced up to meet her hand. 
“Your mouth says no, but your hips say yes, which one is it?” her voice was cold and emotionless. 
“I-uh..it-it hur-hurts ahh, ple-please,” he begged, squirming underneath her hawks gaze. 
By the time she was finished with him, he was so incredibly spent he could barely stay awake. With eyes half lidded, pupils blown wide in lust, she frowned in disgust at how messy her car was. The passenger seat was drowned in sweat, both hers and his, it was obvious he hadn’t listened to her orders, as his shirt was ruined, not to mention anything else within close proximity. 
“You’re going to clean that.”
“Oh, whatever.” 
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royal-writer · 5 years ago
Text
Owl’s Wisdom
Somethin quick- because I found it to be a stupid concept but still had to indulge in my stupid ideas.
-
With eyes squinted uncertainly, Essätha peered up and down at Sulhadur skeptically. It didn’t appear as though the bard’s spell had done anything effective. All the showmanship; the curling tongue of syllables and delicate waving of his free hand while laying upon the Dragonborn, and she’d expected to see something. Instead, after a brief flurry of glitter and glamour, it seemed nothing had changed. Sul looked the same as he always had
“Do you feel any different?”
The scaly crimson paladin met her gaze, and then looked around to the others.
“No.”
“Well it’s not a feeling, you dirty dishrags,” the portly man replied with a waggle of one of his sausage-shaped fingers. “It’s an experience. Come now, Sul, why don’t you try it out? Follow a gut instinct.”
“That sounds very unwise,” Sulhadur replied.
“See! It’s working.”
“That’s common sense, not wisdom,” Adela sighed with exaggeration. “We appreciate your ahem, help on our expedition Jirichoe, but we’re here to actually find clues, not perform magician props for a musicians show.”
“I swear it works!” the bard expressed loudly. Each fanned ridge upon the lizard’s spine seemed to stand a bit straighter as he grew more and more discontent, turning their eerie unblinking eyes to each of them as they turned their largely plump form around in a waddle.
Meeting the man’s pleading gaze, Essie could only offer a sympathetic smile. It was relieving when he stopped looking at her. The instinct to comfort the brokenhearted fellow was strong. Certainly he’d meant no harm in helping them, but the poor dear wasn’t exactly doing them any favors coming along, either. The added turmoil of his defeated look made her pity him all the more. Poor lad looked like he could use a hug.
“Well thank you, Jirichoe, for your help,” Abernathy awkwardly slid in. “Everyone else shall uh, pan out and inspect the area for further clues, if you’d please?”
“Already on it,” Penimra announced heavily. “You wouldn’t believe these folks taste in clothing.”
A set of groans and sniggers escaped the rest of them.
“You wanna see if they kept anything interesting in their nightstand?” Essätha murmured, tightening her fingers around the nobleman’s to catch his attention.
Lord Amon seemed to have found the unintended innuendo in her question, and stared back at her with a mixture of horror and repugnance.
“I’d rather not.”
“Oh- no I didn’t mean-”
Dramatically waving her hand to try eliminating the statement from the air, Pri’cha jumped up before them with wiggling antenna. “I will look,” they chirped. “They may have refined taste in candles I can look to buy later.”
Jirichoe raised their eyebrows. “You’re not serious, are you?”
The cleric looked at the bard with a curious head tilt. “Did I make a satire? My mistake, some human lingo surpasses me.”
With the golden Thri-Kreen eradicating her own allusion to confuse and amuse those close, the Yuan-Ti woman let out a grateful sigh and offered a light tug to the Illiad’s hand. He followed her gentle inquiry willingly, allowing her to guide him over towards the bed where he hesitated.
“You check under, I’ll go for the nightstand?” she offered, raising her eyes from the floor to his.
He gave a relieved smile, and nodded.
Behind him she could see Sulhadur’s gaze boring into them. It wasn’t just a simple glance, it was an intense, soul-searching gawking.
She avoided squirming, moving to weave her digits free from the nobleman’s. He flexed his fingers against hers one final time in a way that made her lips pull upward tenderly, catching the shy way his eyes lingered over her features as he turned away.
With clunking armor rattling, Sulhadur marched around Ravamora as she examined the trunk at the end of the bed. He came to stand awfully close to them, and if not for the fact she knew him well enough to know he was no psychic, she’d have thought he was trying to listen in on their private thoughts or gaze at their souls with how uncomfortably serious he appeared. Maybe there was a stain on her shirt? She could have sworn she’d used prestidigitation to remove all the blood before washing it.
“The room’s got no obvious tripwires or traps; everything appears seamless, there’s no spot too-dirt or too-clean to suggest anything strange,” he observed. “However, there is something nagging at me… You two.”
“U-Us?” she echoed, glancing down to Amon as he got down to peek beneath the edges of the duvet. He didn’t even bother looking up; perhaps not even listening.
The Dragonborn nodded. “Are you two discreetly dating?”
A loud ‘bang’ followed as the Illiad tried to rise up too fast, and whacked his head on the metal base that held the springbox.
Letting out a strangled gasp, Essie dropped down to help Amon as he favored the side of his head, murmuring a soft sound as she rubbed his shoulder. He continued nursing the knot where he’d bumped himself violently, offering a winsome lopsided grin as he patted her hand.
“I’m alright.”
“Are you sure?”
“Yes; my mistake.”
Pouting, she reached for him tenderly, trying to spot the wound against his scalp through the mane of his dark hair.
Sulhadur reached down, placing a clawed hand against Amon’s other shoulder. It caused him to jump again, but with nothing around for him to knock his head against, that was thankfully all he did.
“I’m sorry to have frightened you Amon. I just couldn’t help noticing that you two are falling in love.”
Mouth gape, Essätha stared at him with her golden eyes as rounded as they could get. She could feel the heat of the sun burning in her cheeks; where it shouldn’t be as the light of the window was not touching her.
Amon roughly cleared his throat beside her. He was just as speechless. It was hard to distinguish his expression behind the mask, but his pupils were dilated into large hemispheres reaching for the horizon edges of his iris.
Out of nowhere, the lizardfolk bard let out a hissing laughter. They clutched at their enlarged abdomen, pointing a shaking nailed finger in their direction.
“And you lot didn’t think my Enhance Ability worked! There’s your proof of the Owl’s Wisdom, right there! He’s seeing right through you two like a sheet of glass!”
As the howling, screeching laughter continued, the remainder of the group slowly advanced their attention upon the two of them. It was enough to make Essie shrink; her heart racing in her chest and palms growing sweaty. The set of fingers, previously light upon Amon’s shoulder, now dug in; fingernails gripping against fur. Lucky for him it wasn’t flesh, or she’d be pinching him painfully.
With a raspy exhale, their champion fighter sat up a little straighter. His motion was not so fluid as she was used to, but he was still extraordinarily careful with his every movement. His hand was delicate upon her own as he reached for her. The pursing of his lips made them thin, and she could see the anxiousness behind the pleading in the deep pools of the oceans deep. How he exhaled so deeply; slowly.
He looked small, and terribly nervous.
Without tearing her gaze from Amon’s, Essie’s words came out a hiss: “Our businesssss is our own privacy Ssssul, now if you’d kindly go back to checking your perspective of the room and not ensuing you know the insight to people’s emotions-”
“Oh,” he muttered. “I shouldn’t have done that. You’re both upset.”
“It doesn’t take Owl’s Wisdom to tell that,” Adela coughed.
“Or how awkward this situation just got,” Rava tacked on, slamming the lid of the trunk shut and making everyone wince. “Nothing interesting in here, by the way. You want me to check that nightstand since you’re having a moment, Essätha?”
“There’s no moment!” Ess’ grumbled hotly, shooting the young wood elfling a glare. They shrugged in response.
Stiffly clearing his throat as he stood, Amon offered her out a hand to help her up. She accepted gratefully, happy to have her fingers wrapped securely in his.
“Can we please not focus on love life’s here, and I don’t know, focus on what we’re getting paid for?” Penimra goaded. “I mean. It’s just a thought.”
“Please,” Essie stressed in agreement, shooting Sul a furious side-eye as she leaned into Amon’s side. He seemed to shiver in response, and tightened the grip of his hand to hers a little more.
“You’re right, I shouldn’t have done that,” Sul muttered to himself, seeming at a loss. He, too stood, bowing politely as he stepped away.
A rather smug bard crossed his arms, and puffed out his stretchy throat proudly. “Told you the charm would work.”
“Shut up Jirichoe, you slimy salamander.”
“Lizard; not salamander. I’m not amphibious. If you had Fox’s Cunning, you might have known that.”
Flushed with anger as much as she was embarrassment, Essätha stuck out her tongue out at the lizardborn very maturely.
“Let’s just keep searching,” Amon agreed, his voice wavering and soft.
“I… okay,” she agreed, deflating at the timidness in his voice.
As the others slowly progressed back into inspecting the room, she couldn’t help but wonder. It couldn’t possibly… there was no way… it wasn’t true…
Was it?
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ponticle · 7 years ago
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Week Four [11 Weeks - Anderstair Challenge]
[masterpost]
[Read it on Ao3]
[Series page and order]
Chapter Summary:  Alistair wakes up with a hangover after his interns throw him a goodbye party. Hawke and Merrill might be making some progress. Rated T: humor and plot movement.
“Did you enjoy yourself last night?” I cackle into the phone.
Alistair groans. “I haven’t been this hungover since college…”
I laugh. “You sent me some texts, but I don’t know what they mean.”
“Oh god. Did I?” he asks.
“Yes. They were all garbled, but I think you proposed…” I laugh.
He goes silent.
“I mean… I’m not saying no…” I tease. “I was just expecting something a little more romantic.”
“Don’t worry—it will be really romantic when I ask,” he says.
My heart flutters; we sigh together.
“Anyway… I didn’t know that telling my interns I was leaving would mean they’d take me out and get me hammered.”
“I wish I’d been there to see it…” I say.
“Me too… kind of…” he laughs. “I mean… I bet I was acting like an idiot.”
I laugh. “So what do you have to do today?”
“Nothing much… I was thinking about touching myself a little…” he jokes.
“Ooh, do that.”
“What are you wearing?” he growls.
“Nothing—I’m still in bed.”
He’s silent for a second, then the phone rings in my ear. He wants to FaceTime.
“Hi.” I laugh, moving the camera so he can see me.
“Oh. I thought you were lying,” he says. “I figured you were just saying that—like, ‘I’m sitting around in black lingerie and heels…’.”
“Would that be a turnon for you?” I ask.
He snorts.
“Show me your body,” he says.
I roll my eyes. “I don’t have time for this today… I have a pathology exam in under two hours and I have to take a shower and stuff…”
He pouts. “Fine… but I’m going to picture you in that shower…”
“You’re allowed.”
Just then, Hawke yells from downstairs to ask if I want coffee. What kind of a question is that? Of course I want coffee.
“Is that Hawke?” asks Alistair.
I nod.
“He’s still there?”
“Well, not still—he has gone home sometimes, as you know…from last weekend...”
He shrugs. “You know what I mean…”
“Yeah… but I think he’s going to talk to Merrill today, actually.”
“Well, let me know what happens,” he says. “And good luck on that exam.”
“Yup. Thanks… Love you.”
“Love you too. Bye.” He hangs up.
Downstairs, Hawke has already made breakfast. He’s slept at my house probably ¾ of all the nights since his fight with Merrill two weeks ago. He’s trying to make himself useful so I don’t resent having him there.
“Want some eggs?” he asks.
I nod. “Thanks, Buddy.”
“So when are you getting together with Merrill?” I ask.
“At noon…” He looks stressed.
“Well, don’t worry—I’m sure everything is going to be fine,” I say. “I mean, you’ve both had time to collect your thoughts. I bet she wants to talk about the plan for moving forward…”
He nods, but he doesn’t look sure.
In reality, I’m not sure either, even though I have a lot of belief in their relationship. I can’t really imagine a scenario where he and Merrill aren’t together anymore. They’re one of the few constants in my life.
“Well, wish me luck, buddy.” I swallow the rest of my coffee in one too-big gulp and grab my things. I often leave the house like a whirlwind.
My exam is easy—well… as easy as a pathology exam ever is. By the sliding scale of ‘tests in medical school’ it’s easy. I’m feeling especially accomplished as I hear some other students talking about it—if consensus is any indication, I did really well. When I have a chance to look at my phone, there are a few group texts. That hasn’t happened in days—not since Hawke and Merrill started fighting. Maybe this is a good sign.
Fenris: How’s everyone today?
Hawke: doing okay. What’s up with you?
They go back and forth for a while until Isabela sends a non sequitur—just two minutes ago.
Isabela: I need a drink. Someone meet me.
She doesn’t have to say where—we all know.
Anders: I just finished an exam. Want to meet now?
Isabela: sure thing. C u there.
When I get inside, she’s sprawled out across three stools at the bar. Her bag and coat each have their own chair.
“What’s up, Andy?” she asks.
I move her coat and sit in the chair on her left. “Not much. Have you talked to Merrill today?”
She side-eyes me. “No… but you’re right in assuming that I’m on her side…”
“I don’t think we should take sides,” I say.
She laughs. “You already did; Hawke has been sleeping at your house.”
I shrug.
“How does Alistair feel about that, incidentally—your perpetual houseguest?” she goads.
“He’s fine. He knows Hawke needs me.”
She raises an eyebrow at me, but doesn’t say anything else.
“Hawke’s really torn up about this you know… He needs Merrill…” I add.
“That’s the exact thing she doesn’t want—she’s not his mother,” says Isabela.
“I know that…” I want to argue that I need Alistair in the same way and that it doesn’t make our relationship dysfunctional; it makes it serious. I don’t think she’ll respond well to that argument, though. She and Fenris have this idea that the only functional relationship is one where neither admits to having too much invested. It makes me sort of angry, because they’re superior about it. It’s a topic I avoid on purpose.
“Whatever… I’m just glad they’re talking today,” I say finally.
She nods.
At the same time, we both get a text. We look down at our phones in tandem.
Hawke: I’m coming to meet you guys.
He doesn’t say if anything has been resolved, so I’m still nervous.
“What do you think that means?” I ask Isabela.
She shrugs. “It could be anything—Merrill has been having all the emotions this week…” The way she says it implies that emotions are inherently bad. I love Isabela—we’ve been really close for years—but I hate when she dismisses feelings… like they’re messes that she’d rather not clean up.
“I hope they’ve worked it out,” I say.
“Me too,” she admits. She shrugs like it’s embarrassing to wish that, so I don’t press her on it.
Hawke pokes his head in just a few minutes later. The bartender, who we know intimately, has a drink in front of him before he’s even said hello.
“So…” prompts Isabela. “What happened?”
He sips from the edge of his tumbler and swallows audibly. We’re watching him with a level of rapt fascination unbefitting drinking from a semi-dirty glass in a dive bar.
“I think we’re going to be okay,” he says plainly.
I let out a sigh of relief and clap him on the back. “Thank god…”
Even Isabela manages to look pleased. She smiles and twirls a piece of black hair at her temple.
“So what did she say?” I ask.
“She said that we have a ways to go—we need to work on some things about how our relationship runs…” he explains. “...but that she missed me…”
I like all the things he’s saying, but a nagging voice in my head keeps saying, ‘that isn’t enough,’ ‘that skirts the issue.’ I try to shut it off, but I can’t.
“But what about the mothering stuff? Did you talk about that?” I ask.
Isabela rolls her eyes at me.
“Well…” Hawke clears his throat, “A little… but she mostly just said that being apart wasn’t working for her…”
Based on past experience, I know that getting back together without having the tough conversations is a terrible idea. I remember when Alistair and I got back together in the aftermath of the Cullen episode… it was doomed from day one.
Isabela puts her hand on Hawke’s shoulder to turn him away from me. “I’m glad you’re okay, Hawke… and if you’re okay and Merrill is okay, then we’re okay, too.” She looks at me pointedly, “Right, Andy?”
I nod. “Right…”
We laugh through the rest of a drink and eventually find ourselves walking in opposite directions. All three of us hug. It feels good to be back in known territory.
On my walk back, I call Alistair to tell him the good news.
“Does this mean Hawke will move out of your place?” he asks.
I laugh. He wasn’t exactly living there, but I know what Alistair means.
“I guess so…” I answer.
“Thank god… I’ll actually be able to relax when I’m there this weekend,” he says.
“What?”
“This weekend… when I see you,” he reiterates.
“You’re coming this weekend?” I’m smiling into the phone.
“Yes… I’m going to fly from JFK on Friday night… is that okay?” he asks.
“Yeah, of course. I can’t wait.”
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thatweirdmod · 5 years ago
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Windowless Moviemaker Chapter 1: Routine
Author: I’m u/thatweirdmod from the explicitliterature subreddit.
STORY:
Windowless Moviemaker Chapter 1: Routine
TWO WEEKS AGO:
I hover behind a nude woman, her head and hands imprisoned inside a pillory. She groans as I stuff a vibrator into her vagina.
"Kidney, are you getting this?" I ask, my voice altered by the voice changing mask over my head.
"Sure thing," he responds with a low chuckle.
He’s standing next to me, naked and fully erect, and holding a video camera. He films me forcing my dick inside the woman’s asshole.
She screams. Must be feeling the skin tearing.
"Oh wow, that's so tight," I moan. I keep going, thrusting in and out as deep and fast as I can manage.
The sensations of the constricting, hot little hole on my dick, combined with the vibrations from the toy on the other side of the flesh wall are arousing beyond belief! I hear her sniffling and crying.
"Quick! Get her face." I tell Kidney, while continuing to anally rape the woman.
"Please, please stop," she begs. In response, I give her cheeks a hard smack and double my efforts of destroying her ass with my cock. "It hurts," she mewls, bursting out in tears.
"Ohhh, that's good. I'm gonna come soon," I grunt. "Shoot her from behind now," I say to Kidney. "Look, her pussy's soaking wet  from the vibrator, and her asshole is all bloody now." Kidney and I both chuckle in satisfaction.
"Damn, that so hot," he says, and zooms in on her privates while they're getting fucked. "I can't help myself," he says, overcome with lust.
Kidney sets the camera up on the tripod, walks to the front of the woman, and grabs a fistful of her hair. "Suck me," he orders, pushing his erection past her lips. "Suck it as far down your throat as it'll go."
She takes him into her mouth, doing her best to service him as her asshole and vagina are ravaged from behind.
"Yeah, there you go," Kidney groans. "Keep your mouth opened wide like that so you don't use your teeth."
He pushes her head further onto his stiff penis. She chokes a bit, but keeps on at the deeper level. "Now that's how a real woman gives head," he says, a smirk in his tone. "This is way better than a school girl."
I rip the vibrator out of the woman's cunt, flinging her juices in the process, then shove my dick inside. "Damn, what a horny bitch," I slap her ass, nice and hard. She cries out, causing her to choke on the dick in her mouth. "I'll cream you nice and good, don’t you worry."
Kidney lets out a high pitched grunt, as he jizzes all over the woman's face. I up my pace, jackhammering in and out of her vagina. On the final thrust, I push my penis in up to my balls release my seed deep inside her.
After Kidney and I have satisfied ourselves, we take the woman out of the pillory, shove her down to the ground, then high five each other.
“Alright!” Kidney says. “We got some great footage tonight.”
"Remember," I tell the woman, smirking under my mask. "We recorded everything on video. Unless you want your friends, family, boyfriend, coworkers, and everyone in between to see it, you'll keep quiet about today."
She nods, sitting limply on the ground with fear quivering in her puffy eyes.
"Just think," I continue for good measure, "Of how humiliating it would be if everyone saw this. You, bent in a pillory, completely exposed with your ass in the air. Pussy drooling all over a vibrator, tits hanging down like cow udders, as you're fucked and molested by two random guys.
That's all anyone would be able to see or think about when they saw you. They'd never forget.
Goodbye friend. Goodbye daughter. Goodbye diligent worker. Goodbye whatever you were before. You'd just be the one that got raped- the victim everyone has to tiptoe around.
I bet you can feel it already, the atmosphere turning heavy, the laughter dying, as soon as you enter the room." The woman stares down blankly as I go on. "Sure, everyone would feel bad for you, but no one would want you.
When you'd be with your man, you'd know what he'd be thinking- that his woman was tainted, covered and smothered by other men. You can feel it, can't you? His fingers holding back, never to truly to embrace you again."
I watch her eyes fill with water. "You're no better than a whore now." I tell her, savoring every word.
The tears stream silently down her face and splatter on the concrete floor of the underground bunker.
"But," Kidney adds in, "No one has to know how dirty and damaged you are. After we let you out, you'll be free. You can return to your life as normal, to the joy and acceptance of your friends and family. So..."
He pauses and tosses a water bottle and a bottle of pills over to her.
"Go ahead and take 2 of those. They'll ensure that you won't have to worry about any pregnancy, and the side effects aren't too bad."
She shakily reaches for them, sniffling.
"Just go about your business as usual," Kidney says to the woman as she swallows the pills. "That way, everything will be alright."
PRESENT:
"'Everything will be alright' huh?" I wonder to myself, as I lean back in my seat and sigh.
Kidney is sitting at desk next to mine. He brushes his sandy brown bangs back from his eyes, as he pretends to focuses intently on the school work before him.
I attempt to begin re-playing another night in my mind, but the teacher's rambling is getting on my nerves. I know it's his job, but I can't concentrate like this. It's so fucking hot too, I think, as I flap my white button up shirt to puff air over myself.
"Jeeto!" The teacher snaps. Finally got enough of my obvious inattention, eh?
"Perhaps you can give us the answer?" He says.
Damn, this is so cliche. I have no idea what he was talking about, besides the basic fact that it must have to do with geometry. There's a triangle on the chalkboard. The annoying, salt 'n pepper haired man in front of me crosses his arms, waiting.
"I... *huge yawn interrupts my sentence* I have no idea, man... sir."
Mr. Simon clicks his tongue, putting his hands on his hips like a sassy bitch.
"Well perhaps you can get an idea in detention, young man."
The students around the classroom chuckle and giggle.
I groan and rake a hand through my mid-length, brown hair. What a waste of my lifespan.
After school finally lets out, a familiar scenario plays out again. It's of me walking slowly, taking in nature under the orange hue of evening, with potato chips and diet soda on my mind. The convenience store close to my house is one of my favorite places in this little secluded town.
Outside, I see Kidney. He's leaning against the brick building eating an ice cream thing from the store. I go over to him.
"Hey," I say.
"Hey yourself," Kidney replies, with the corners of his mouth tugged upwards. "Have you seen the cutie who just moved here yet?"
"Which one?" I ask. "The way I heard it from those gossipy old nags, the new single dad's a pretty fine piece."
"Maybe so. That just explains where she got it from," Kidney says, grinning fiendishly at the thought of the girl as he licks his ice cream.
"You gonna scare 'em off already? They're probably not even done unpacking," I say.
"Hmm, I think I'm gonna do this the nice way," Kidney answers, a plan gleaming in his eye.
He tosses his ice cream stick on the ground, even though there's a bin a few steps away. "You win 2 tickets to Rocket Roller theme park if you're lucky enough to pick the right Creamtastical Pop," he says.
I laugh. "Don't tell me that's actually got you buying 'em everyday."
"Whatever, man."
"You're just part of the 999,999 that beefs up their sales while they give a sliver of that beef to the 1 in 1,000,000 that wins their shitty prize. A literal sucker, 'cause it's ice cream on a stick."
"But," Kidney says as we walk into the store, "I can't help loving consumerist culture. Indulgence is in the air. Besides, Creamtastical Pops really are the bomb."
"Welcome!" The old woman at the counter says. "If it's not our most frequent customers."
I smile back at her and say, "Hey, Roodle."
Yeah, that's her name- Roodle. She's the manager of this permanently under-staffed store. She's here 6 days every week, in a green polo shirt with her gray hair pulled back into a pony tail, running the register and almost every damn thing in between.
Somehow, I imagine myself in her shoes when I'm that age, and I don't have any problem with it.
Even though it's just a convenience store job, I'd say she busts her ass, so I never sneak too much into the pockets of my dress pants when she dashes into the backroom or down an aisle. You could say I've got boundaries with Roodle.
Kidney's over at the freezers, and I see him slip a Creamtastical Pop into his pocket. But he grabs a 2nd one and holds it openly to purchase.
While I peruse the chips selection, he walks behind the counter. He opens the glass door of the cigarette cabinet, takes a carton like it's totally natural, and walks back out, just before Roodle reappears.
I glance between them, a little nervous. I don't want it to get awkward when I come here because my friend got caught stealing, you know? Roodle didn't notice shit, though.
Fucking hell. If I succeed her, I'm gonna install cameras for sure. Corporate would hear a case and a half from me if they protested.
I'm thinking we've mulled around long enough, so I force myself to decide on two bags of chips and go up to pay.
Kidney and I walk together down the sidewalk, as the nostalgic orange glow around us hints at cooling into night. I glance to my left, taking small satisfaction in how the trajectory of my gaze to Kidney's face is at a slight downward angle.
He's double fisting his ice cream bars, biting one then the other. He hums a happy laugh. "The vanilla one is the one I paid for, the angel. And the chocolate one is the devil one, the one I stole."
I watch him devour the two masses of sugar and fat. The Creamtastical Bar is a dessert more multi-faceted than most people. It's an ice cream sandwich coated in fudge, then smothered in whipped cream, then coated in a chocolate, vanilla, or fruit flavored shell, sometimes with a chopped nut finish.
If just one kind wasn't enough to satisfy their loyal customers, the company has made dozens of variations and limited editions. You'd gain a 100 kilos just by trying each of them.
"By the way, when did you start smoking?" I ask Kidney.
"Huh? Never had," he replies. "I just thought I'd try some cigarettes today. I've been pretty stressed out lately. Maybe a nice drag and a hit of nicotine will hit the spot."
"Nicotine's lame," I say. "If you're gonna smoke something, at least go for weed. I hear it comes with less cancer too."
"Well, cigs come with less cops."
"Not necessarily if you steal them."
"Oh please, Jeeto," Kidney says, smiling. "Good ol' Roodle wouldn't call the cops, even if she did catch me. She's a total push-over. A decent apology is all I'd need."
We walk up the incline that goes past the playground. I observe at the worn down swings and other sad looking equipment. Kidney and I used to hang out here a lot as kids.
The place isn't as fun now that the slide is too short to have a real slide down, and the fall from the monkey bars is too low to fear. Though, we still come back to the swings sometimes.
The swings...
I notice a girl sitting on one alone. "Hey, that's her," Kidney whispers, looking past me.
Speak of the devil, we were just going up to her house so I could get my first look around.
"Who's 'her' anyway?" I ask. "You never told me her name."
"Oh yeah. It's Rilla."
I examine her from where I stand, but a ray of sunlight is blocking some important parts of her from view. Thinking, what the hell, I walk off the sidewalk and start across the grass over to her.
Her head is low, auburn bangs hanging over her forehead. She's in thought, maybe, before she notices me and looks up. My heart doesn't skip a beat or anything, but I'm not unhappy.
"Hi," I say cordially.
She stands, giving me a better look at her legs. She's a little short, but they're nicely proportioned. She's in a skirt that stops teasingly just above her knees.
I'm careful to smile with warmth and not pleasure. "My name's Jeeto. I heard you moved into the neighborhood a few days ago."
"That's right," she says, like the kind of person who has to work past their shyness a little for every word. "I'm Rilla... Rilla Arocci."
"Welcome to Grishee Town, Rilla. It's really nice to meet you."
She returns my smile reservedly. "You too, Jeeto."
"I'm from the Fuma household, which I believe is a straight shot down the street from you," I say. "If you ever need anything, I'll be happy help, alright?"
Rilla nods and says, "Thank you."
"Well, I've gotta go now. See you around."
She says goodbye and we wave to each other as I walk off the playground. Instead of continuing up the slope to her house, I turn back to head home. Just as I start to wonder where Kidney went, I see him hiding behind a tree, with two unmarked ice cream sticks at his feet.
"Playing the voyeur on her's one thing," I say to him. "But I was back there too."
"Very funny," he grumbles. "I told you, not so much as a half hour ago, that I was gonna get Rilla. Where do you get off jumping the gun on me?"
I shrug. "I only introduced myself. You could've come and said hi too."
"Dumbass. One guy is bad enough. Two guys approaching a lone girl is only sure to scare her. Women are pretty fragile, and wary like rabbits, you know. It's a pain, but it's true."
"Rabbits are like that because they know there are foxes in the world. Women know that there are men like us."
"So now it's our fault?" Kidney challenges. "We're not out to kill them like foxes, unless they take it to that level themselves. If they'd just give it up, neither party would have these problems."
“But we don’t really want them to just give it up, do we?” I counter.
“Well, half my point still stands,” Kidney insists.
I just shrug again. "Wanna play some Mortal Kombat at my place?"
"Sure, even if we do already know how it's gonna turn out," Kidney says, now smirking. "Kidney wins! Flawless victory. Fatalityyyyy!"
"If you were a Mortal Kombat character," I begin, "What'd your finisher be anyway?"
"I dunno. It'd have to be something where I tore out their kidneys with my bare hands."
By the time darkness has fallen outside my bedroom window, I've thoroughly gotten my ass beat via console.
My knuckles redden as I squeeze my controller in rage- the diet form of hurling the piece of shit at the wall. Kidney can't stop laughing, which is what's really pissing me off.
"Fuck it," I say. "I'm gonna go get something to eat." I leave my bedroom, slamming the door behind myself.
Soon, I'm listening dully to the sounds of the humming microwave, crickets chirping loudly outside, and grease popping on my buffet takeout. I go back upstairs with my food, and find Kidney scrutinizing my shelf.
"You really oughta hide those DVDs we made better," he whispers to me. "You can't just leave them here with all your normal stuff."
"Why not?" I say lackadaisically. "Unmarked, empty looking discs aren't particularly interesting when they're next to a bunch of movies, TV shows, and porn."
Kidney just frowns. "The whole, 'hidden in plain sight' thing is bound to backfire eventually. You live with your mom and kid sister for fuck's sake, and they don't exactly respect your privacy.
Say one of them gets bored, and decides to kill time by having a look through your stuff. After getting through everything else, they might wanna check if there's anything on those unmarked DVDs.
Hell, what if one of them was even looking for an empty DVD to rip stuff onto. They see those, think there's probably nothing on 'em, and that you won't mind if they take one. It'd all be over then."
"Alright, alright," I groan. "I'll put 'em somewhere else. But where?"
"Inside your mattress would be good. You make a hole in it, put the DVDs in the hole, and sew it back as it was. I bet not even cops would find them there."
"The hell?" I question. "Am I supposed to dig them out and put them back like that every time I wanna watch them?"
"No. You burn them onto your computer, and store the videos in an encrypted, hidden folder.
The DVDs are only supposed to be backup storage, in case you have to delete the stuff off the computer, or its hard drive gets corrupted. Things like that."
"All of this sounds like a huge pain," I say as I stuff my face.
"Come on, it's easy," Kidney assures me.
"If it's so easy, then you can do it yourself," I tell him, and plop down onto my twin sized bed. "My computer's password is 'jeetocheeto69365'."
"Isn't that your username on Runescape? You really are careless," Kidney sighs, and logs on.
By the time I finish my dinner, Kidney is still ripping the DVDs onto the computer. I decide to kill time by getting some preparations together.
"We're going to need more animal tranquilizer after this one," I tell him, as I draw the last bit of liquid from a glass bottle into a small syringe. It's your turn to buy it, so order some online soon, alright?"
"Fine," Kidney agrees.
"And hurry up and get done with that already," I say. "I wanna get going to Mrs. Horatay's house soon."
"Why so impatient?" Kidney asks. "We still have several hours of night left before even the earliest risers start getting up. It's actually still a little early."
"Do you even have to ask why I'm impatient?" I ask as I pack rope into a black backpack. "You've seen her too, after all."
Kidney grins. "If I was her husband, I'd hate to have to leave that rack for a boring business trip, on the week of our anniversary, no less. I'll be sure to give her a good titty fucking in his absence."
I laugh. "It's funny how we've never even spoken to the Horatays, but we know all this shit about them. Gossiping housewives are truly a force to be feared. If I ever get married, it'll be to a quiet woman."
Kidney lets out a scoff. "A ring around the finger is like a collar around the neck. I look at it as a symbol of bondage.
We do most things with our hands and fingers, so rings are placed around them to show that everything you do after marriage is under your spouse's control."
"Are you sure you're not just saying that because your dad's a pussy whipped loser?"
"Tsk," Kidney grumbles, as he removes the final DVD from the tray. "Flip your mattress over, will you. It's time to put these away."
I do as he asks, then watch him go to work on hiding the DVDs.
"You're a pretty good seamstress," I remark. "You'll have to give me an embroidery lesson sometime."
"Say what you want, sewing is a useful practical skill, same as cooking. I won't be dependent on some bitch to take care of me," Kidney says.
"Yeah," I agree. "I'm gonna have to know how to close the mattress on my own after we make new movies anyway."
There's a pause before I ask, "How's Krin doing?"
He bristles. "Why should you care about my little sister?"
I sigh, "What's the problem? You're always complaining about how annoying she is. She's a lot like mine." I grin, then say, "I'd be fine with you fucking Sota, you know."
I notice Kidney swallow, then I laugh.
"I know you want to, man. It's totally obvious."
He has no counter to this.
"How about we strike a deal? I'll slip some roofies to Sota, if you do the same with Krin."
"Krin's not annoying all the time," Kidney says softly. "I've talked about how she badgers me into doing homework and chores and takes my stuff without asking. But, I guess I've never mentioned how it really is between us."
I listen with an eyebrow raised.
"In the town we lived in before, our old man had a pretty nasty fall from grace. The folk there were cliquish to begin with, big families rooted in years of tradition.
So, that incident only ensured that we were completely rejected- all of us Bellourds. "The apple doesn't fall far from the tree," they'd say, so the adults didn't want their kids around me or Krin.
Nobody really spoke to us. Even if they didn't understand why, we were just rotten apples to be avoided. Even so, we weren't lonely.
We were able to stay together a lot, because we're only a year apart. Things were nice with just the two of us." Kidney smiles in recollection.
"We played around all time back then: hide and seek in the woods, role playing, a lot made up games too... One day, we decided to play doctor in Krin's room.
I can't remember whose idea it was, but I remember that after she checked my breathing, if behind my ears were clean, and everything else, I ended up lying on the pale gray carpet for a "down there checkup."
After my checkup was over, it was my turn to be the doctor, and do the whole routine on her.
After that time, we'd play doctor every few days. And after a while, the patient started to always end up saying, 'Hurry up and get to the down there checkup.' That eventually became all the doctor game was about.
We didn't know much, except that it felt good, and that we didn't wanna get caught doing the down there checkups.
Over time though, we stopped bothering to call them checkups, or asking, 'Wanna play doctor?' We'd just go into a bedroom, close the door behind ourselves, and touch each other.
We didn't stop, even after our family finally got enough money to move here, and we both made other friends. And one time back in junior high, our parents went on vacation.
We had a long day of doing whatever we wanted around the house, got tired, crashed on the couch, and turned the TV on to some lame channel.
I got hard, which wasn't unusual when we were alone, but this time we both felt it was different.
Now, we had all the time in world to go as far as we wanted. That day, when we lost our virginities together, is the most cherished memory I have.
It was amazing, almost heavenly. I'd never felt that close to anyone before. I felt so warm and complete- so happy and at home.
Even now, the honest moments between me and Krin are the most precious things to me. I'm not ready to accept any other man into the picture, Jeeto."
I sigh, "But any other woman is fine?"
"What I do with those other women isn't like what me and Krin have together. They're nothing," Kidney says.
"Krin would be nothing to me, and as for her, she wouldn't even know who it was. That's hardly getting into your precious picture, then, is it?"
"But Krin is something!" Kidney says emphatically. He then reins himself in. "I just don't want anyone doing her that way. End of discussion. I'm going back to my place to change and pick up my bag."
"Alright," I say lazily. "But you know, for someone who I thought hated women, you've got an annoying soft spot for one."
"Meet you at Mrs. Horatay's house," he says.
I watch his back with narrowed eyes as he leaves, wondering if Krin's little pussy would feel as "heavenly" for me if I forced her down on her knees and fucked her.
If and when that happens, I'll let her know that she has her brother to blame the most.
I might have let this go if Kidney didn't make such a big deal about it. But he just made her forbidden fruit, and a woman should understand, how a forbidden fruit is more enticing than all the others in the garden.
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