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buckymorelikefuckme · 1 month ago

Text

fri(end)s

bucky barnes x fem reader

words: 3.8k

warnings & tags: **18+ ONLY** friends/roommates to lovers oh my god they were roommates, smoking weed, brief mutual masturbation, frottage (i think that's the right word idfk i'm all out of practice), p in v sex, unprotected sex (don’t do that), reader has nipple piercings bc i said so, slight pain kink? mayhaps? ok pls let me know if i’ve missed anything!

a/n: i made this fic my bitch tonight. this is absolutely not proofread or beta'd, you're just gonna have to take it for what it is, sorry not sorry. anyway, it’s been too long since i wrote for this beefy man :’) i really hope you like it. this was originally very loosely inspired by a scene in what’s your number? but it quickly gained a mind of its own to become what it is now, so. there ya go. title is from the song of the same name by V of bts thank you very much. any and all mistakes are my own. feedback is greatly appreciated and heavily encouraged!!! xoxo

bucky barnes masterlist || main masterlist

Bucky’s introduction to weed was something you’d been supremely proud of.

When the two of you became roommates, you both had been kind of quiet and kept to yourselves at first, which isn’t too unusual, but you noticed that Bucky almost always had a frown etched into his handsome face. A frown that only ever softened after a night out with his friends and, you assumed, a decent hook-up. It never took long for that frown to reappear, though.

You didn’t know what could have been so stressful for him, but you knew he needed a way to relax, and not just for himself, either. The sight of him glumly moving around the apartment—honestly, you’ve never seen someone make fixing a bowl of cereal look so fucking sad—was beginning to weigh on your own nerves.

So, naturally, you thought of asking him if he’s ever tried weed. Somehow, his frown had deepened at that question. He said no, shocking absolutely no one, and then you asked if he wanted to try it. Admittedly, he was a little hesitant at first, but he eventually agreed.

The way his body, all two hundred and whatever pounds of muscle and angst, sank into the recliner like a ragdoll when the high really hit him made you grin. Though, to be fair, you were already smiling, what with you also being high. It was the first time you saw a real, genuine smile from Bucky, and you were immensely pleased to have given him a way to decompress from whatever kept him so tense all the time.

It became a sort of thing for you two. Saturday nights were for getting high, binge-watching Love Island (UK, because you both have class, thank you very much) and raiding the pantry for all the good snacks when the munchies hit. You’d never tell anyone, but those nights quickly became something you looked forward to every week, something you could cling to when your own life got a little difficult. Who knew smoking weed—and on a few special occasions, doing edibles—with your roommate would make a friendship blossom so prettily?

***

After how late Bucky got in last night, you knew he’d be sleeping in and would more than likely have a hangover. So, for this particular Saturday morning, you get up and quietly start gathering your laundry while Bucky snores loudly into his pillow from his bedroom. You were getting behind on it anyway, down to your last pair of clean shorts.

Before you put them on, though, you purse your lips in thought, staring at your pile of dirty clothes. You didn’t want to put on clean shorts with the panties and shirt you slept in last night. It would be smarter to wash them with the rest of your clothes, right? But that would leave you topless, which, you wouldn’t exactly be opposed to it, but you’re not sure Bucky would appreciate waking up to you walking around with your tits out. Or maybe he would? Whatever, it doesn’t matter.

You shake your head to clear your thoughts and then remember that Bucky did his laundry yesterday, and knowing him, he probably left at least some of his clean clothes in the dryer. Surely he wouldn’t mind you borrowing a shirt.

With that plan in mind, you dump your clothes into your laundry basket and make your way down the hall to the doors where your washing and drying units are (a major selling point of the apartment, if you’re honest). Just like you thought, Bucky’s left a load in the dryer, and even some of his button-downs are hung up on the drying rack. You quickly pull your t-shirt off, shivering against the cool air, and reach for one of the hangers, slipping his shirt off of it and onto yourself. For a dress shirt, it’s actually quite comfortable, obviously one of the shirts he wears more often with how soft and a little worn the fabric is. You shimmy your panties down your legs and add them to your pile, grabbing your clean shorts and tugging them on, too.

You make quick work of starting your first load of clothes, closing the doors to muffle the sound of the washer, and head back to your room to do your morning routine. By the time you’re done and have also cooked yourself breakfast, Bucky is staggering down the hall and into the kitchen, hair a tangled nest atop his head and eyes bleary.

“Good morning, sunshine,” you greet with a teasing smile.

He flips you off and beelines for the coffee machine, pouring himself a cup and not speaking a word until he’s downed at least half of it. Part of you is concerned for his esophagus, but you’ve long since come to the conclusion that Bucky’s probably got a thing for pain—both physically and emotionally.

“Remind me to tell Sam he isn’t allowed to bring Natasha on our nights out anymore,” he grumbles, voice rough from both sleep and a long night of drinking. “I’ve never taken so many shots of vodka in my life.”

You hum. “Sounds like my kind of woman, actually.” He cuts his eyes at you, silently judging while taking another sip of his coffee. “Want me to fry up some bacon and eggs for you?” You almost laugh at the way his expression immediately switches to pleading.

The rest of the morning is spent finishing your laundry and putting it all away, even gathering up Bucky’s clothes that he’d left and dumping them on his bed. You’ll leave the folding to him, though; your generosity only extends so far, after all.

Lunch rolls around and you both decide to order takeout from the burger place down the street, Bucky shushing you when you keep insistently whispering for him to order extra truffle fries (which he does order, after you’ve sworn pain of death if he doesn’t) and once it arrives, the two of you settle around the coffee table in the living room, putting on a random movie to watch while you eat.

And of course, when the sun begins to lower on the horizon, you start pulling out your stash and getting everything ready. Bucky’s already got the windows open in the living room to let the smell air out as you smoke, and he also has Love Island queued up and ready to go.

While you smoke the first joint, you make the conscious decision to bake a small batch of brownies for later. Bucky sits on the counter beside you, passing the joint back and forth as he quietly watches you work. Wordlessly, you hand over the bowl and spoon to him after you’ve poured the batter into the awaiting pan. No matter how many times you’ve tried to warn him about salmonella he always insists on licking them clean.

Sometimes, in these moments, you forget how surly he used to be with you. Not that he was ever rude or anything, but he never would have pouted about not being able to eat raw brownie batter before you helped him break down some of those walls of his.

***

“He’s such a dick,” Bucky mumbles a while later, face impassive and tone bland as he refers to one of the islanders of the show, slouching so deeply into the couch he’s practically become one with it.

The high from the first joint is finally kicking in fully, doing its job of releasing every ounce of tension from your bodies. It’s also making your mouth dry and tummy rumble for snacks. Thank god you made those brownies and Bucky unearthed some candy from past movie nights and lots of chips out of the pantry cabinets.

You hum at his comment. “Most men are.”

Bucky turns his head in your direction with an affronted expression that has you snickering. He goes to reply, giving you the sassiest once-over you’ve ever seen, but his eyes doubletake on your torso and he pauses. He stares for a moment.

“That’s my shirt,” he states.

You look down at the shirt in question, of which you’ve worn all day long and somehow he’s only just now noticing.

“Wow, you’re like Sherlock Holmes or something,” you drawl.

Bucky stares some more, and then, “Why are you wearing my shirt?”

“Because I had laundry to do and I needed something to wear while all my stuff was washing,” you say in a “duh” tone.

“But…” He frowns. “It’s my favorite.”

You snort inelegantly. “Bucky, you literally have, like, at least four other white dress shirts.”

“So? What, I can’t have a favorite one just because I have more of the same color?”

“Christ,” you say on an exasperated exhale. “I’ll give it back before bed, okay? I don’t wanna move right now. I’m scared I’ll bump into stuff again.”

Bucky huffs a laugh at that, which turns into a full-blown giggle fit that is contagious. Soon after your shared laughter dies down, the conversation moves back to the illicit love triangles among the islanders. You trash talk the couple that Bucky likes, just to see him get riled up and rant about how they’re the most real couple of the season and everyone else is just jealous. He gets red in the face and pouty when you remind him that this is a heavily produced show about pretty people getting a chance to get famous for being pretty people by hooking up with each other and playing stupid games that mean nothing in the grand scheme of it all. Really, it’s quite cute.

To placate him, though, you get a second joint rolled and let him take the first hit.

***

Turns out this second one hits you rather harder than normal. It feels like your head is a balloon and your neck is the string tethering it to the rest of your body. Everything feels much more sluggish compared to all the other times you’ve gotten high with Bucky. Somewhere in the depths of your hazy brain you remember that you’d gotten a different brand this time around; perhaps that’s why.

On the tv, the islanders are getting ready for bed, and once the lights go out in their room, some of the couples engage in some serious heavy petting, lifting their comforters for a semblance of privacy. The sounds start next, sighs and low moans, and it all begins to settle into your subconscious. Between one lazy blink and the next, you realize you’re… actually kind of horny. It’s not enough for you to really pay attention to it, not at first, just a little sprinkle of it, a tiny twist in your core that briefly has you pressing your thighs together then relaxing again.

But then the arousal builds up inside you so slowly and easily that you don’t even realize your hand has apparently grown a mind of its own and found its way down your shorts. You inhale sharply at the touch of your fingers against your clit, lashes fluttering as the sensation registers. The sound gains Bucky’s attention from where he's been lounging on the opposite end of the couch with his head tipped back and eyes closed.

They’re not closed anymore. Out of your peripheral, you see his head shift in your direction, feeling the weight of his stare like a physical thing. Your mind is both connected and disconnected from your actions, half-aware that this is probably not the smartest thing to be doing, that you’re absolutely crossing a major boundary. Touching yourself in this way in front of your roommate, your friend, is so not normal.

Yet, for some idiotic reason, you leave your hand down your shorts, continuing to lightly pet at your clit, neediness rising steadily. Even though you know he’s watching—and suspiciously quiet—you can’t help but let your fingers slither down to where you’re beginning to drip to gather some of your slick and bring it back to your clit and swirling your fingers at a sedate pace, sighing as your nipples tighten underneath your shirt.

Bucky is as still as a statue, gaze honed in on the movement of your hand, on how your thighs ease open more and more the longer you play with your pussy.

It takes very little time for your eyes to wander over to the man just a couple feet away, and to then notice and fixate on the growing bulge in Bucky’s sweatpants. The weight of his stare is almost a physical thing and you swallow roughly as you think about what he might look like, if he’s at all how you’ve secretly imagined when you’re alone in your bedroom, in much the same position as you are in now.

His hands creep towards his thighs and smooth down the expanse of them and back up, slowly, over and over, like he’s teasing himself. Like he’s teasing you. Your fingers don’t stop as you lift your other hand to tweak and pinch at your nipples through well-worn cotton, a tiny noise slipping past your dry lips.

Bucky pulls the hem of his shirt up, exposing part of his toned stomach and only hesitates for a split second before he lowers the waistband of his pants, pulling his cock out and matching the pace of his strokes with the pace of your fingers. The head of his cock is pink and precum makes it shine under the low light of the lamps in the living room.

You bite your lip as your arousal increases from the sight alone, and you decide to follow his lead, just a bit. You whine from the loss of stimulation when you remove your hand to shimmy your shorts down and off your legs, letting them fall to the floor carelessly. And now, Bucky has an unrestrained view of your glistening cunt as you sink two of your fingers inside yourself and use your other fingers to rub all around your clit. It has you gasping, eyelids threatening to close through the pleasure that sparkles throughout every vein in your body.

It’s good. Amazing, even. And it’s only making you want more. Bucky, it seems, feels much the same.

“C’mere,” he rasps, tone leaving no room for arguing, never mind that you wouldn’t have argued anyway.

You sit up on the couch, knee-walking over to where he’s still in his slumped position, never pulling your hand away from your clit because it feels like you’d cry if you did. Bucky curses under his breath and lets go of his cock to firmly grab you by the hips and tug you onto his lap. Your pussy ends up aligned perfectly with his cock, and you both shudder as you begin gliding back and forth across it, small movements that only increase the suspense of what likely comes next. He meets your eyes, red and glazed over from both the high and the toe-curling feeling of his cock along your wet center.

The kiss, when it happens, tastes like weed and the peanut M&M’s you both were snacking on just a little while ago. Bucky's tongue licks into your mouth like he can’t get enough, nips at your bottom lip to hear you whimper, gets a fistful of your hair and pulls and guides you until you’re pliant for him.

He knocks your hand away from your clit, but before you can complain about it he’s nudging the head of his cock against your entrance and you’re gasping all over again, grinding sloppily as you try to get him inside you. He finally sinks the head in and you allow gravity to aid you in taking the rest of him, moaning brokenly and high pitched at the stretch of him inside you. Bucky groans deep in his chest, hands clutching your waist like a lifeline as you slowly circle your hips, getting used to the feeling.

You stay like that for a few minutes, your breath and Bucky’s mixing hotly between you, and then you finally start fucking yourself on his cock. He grunts when you clench around him on the downstroke. You decide you like the sound, and you really wanna hear it again, so you repeat the action, moaning when the grunt is accompanied by a curse and his fingernails biting into your skin.

It takes what feels like ages for you to realize your thighs and knees ache from riding him, the weed making everything feel like it’s floating, including yourself, but Bucky sees the furrow in your brows and the shaking strain of your legs, and in the next second, he’s got you both moved from the couch to the floor. Time ticks on glacially slow like molasses as you stare up at him whipping his shirt off from where you’re sprawled on the carpet, your limbs shifting lethargically when he spreads your legs to better fit himself between them.

He fucks you hard, but not fast. you’re both much too high for anything fast, yet it still feels like your heart is going to pulse out of your chest, rabbiting away like you’ve run a marathon. Bucky buries his face in your neck, mouthing at your skin while he thrusts almost lazily.

Suddenly, his large hands encapsulate your hips, fingers pressing into the fleshiest parts of them as he sits up, getting his knees under him so he can rest on his haunches. He keeps your ass in his lap and your legs spread on either side of his waist. It makes your back arch and hips tilt up into a position that has you shuddering and sobbing when he begins to grind his thick cock deeper into you.

“I could stay buried in you for hours,” he mutters.

He reaches for the throw pillows on the couch and puts them under your hips, and then he fucks into you so hard it steals the breath right from your lungs, your mouth hanging open on a silent cry. His thrusts are sharper now, angled to perfection and making your toes curl so hard you fear them cramping and body jolt when he glides all the way back in. You gasp when Bucky rips open your shirt (his shirt, your mind helpfully supplies) and sends the buttons scattering across the floor. Those will be a bitch to find and clean up, but that’s a problem for much later.

“Fuck,” he grunts when he sees the piercings glinting in your nipples. “I fucking knew it,” he continues, squeezing each of your breasts in his hands and pinching your nipples between his thumbs and forefingers, making you gasp again, pushing up into the sensation.

“Knew—“ You cut off with a whine when he pinches harder. “Knew what?”

“You walk around here wearing those goddamn cropped tank tops as tight as possible with no bra. Thought I was going crazy when I saw what looked like piercings underneath them,” he confesses as his hands travel back down to grip your waist, never losing his rhythm while he pulls you down to meet his thrusts.

At the sight of your tits bouncing with the movement of his hips, he groans, gravelly, his top lip curling as he grits his teeth and squeezes your hips so hard it hurts, and it only adds to your pleasure. With the way your skin is tingling, your pussy fluttering around him nonstop, you’re not sure if it’s because Bucky is fucking you that well or if it’s the weed. It’s probably both, and you have a split second thought that you’ll just have to test that theory once the high wears off.

It’s almost ironic, you think, how wet and messy your cunt is compared to how dry your mouth feels. It probably doesn’t help that your jaw seems to be permanently slack as you’re unable to stop your gasping inhales, only to exhale sounds you might be embarrassed about if you were clear-headed. Alas, your mind is a lot more focused on the way Bucky is splitting you open and carving a space inside you all for himself.

“So much better,” you whisper absently, fingers clawing at the carpet beneath you.

“Better than what?” he wonders, shifting to grip under your knees and push them up, changing the angle.

You cry out sharply, writhing uselessly in his hold. “My imagination,” you whimper.

Through bleary, tear filled eyes, you glance up at him just in time to see his lips pull into a boyish smirk.

“Mine too,” he confesses and sends you reeling.

You whine and reach down quickly to rub your throbbing clit, your whole body jerking as your pleasure mounts higher and higher. Bucky moans as he watches, stare trained on where you’re joined. His speed does pick up then, the slightest bit, a shudder wracking his frame as you clench down on him, head tipping back and exposing the long expanse of his throat for a brief moment before he suddenly leans over you, letting your legs fall into the cradle of his elbows.

“Won’t you be good for me and cum?” he asks, breathless, hips never letting up.

You open your mouth to reply but all that comes out is a strangled cry of his name, your fingers keeping their pace as your climax swells until it overflows, bursting like a firework and pleasure like you’ve never felt before sparks through every vein, muscle, and bone within you. Bucky curses in such a way it would make a sailor blush as you pulse around him. The sounds of your orgasm and his thrusts meeting your hips are the filthiest things you’ve ever heard, and it doesn’t stop for several moments, dragging on and on. It leaves you trembling and shaking and trying futilely to gather air in your lungs as he refuses to let up.

With great resolve, you bring your wet fingers away from your sensitive clit and up to his panting mouth. He groans at your taste, licking and sucking on your fingers as he chases his own release.

“Please,” you whisper, tears finally escaping your lashes and trailing down the sides of your face, and that seems to be his undoing.

Bucky moans, something high and broken, fucking into you rough enough that you’re worried about carpet burn. But then he pauses, gasping as he finally lets go and rides out his high.

Your hand slips from his mouth and falls to the floor like a deadweight. The only noise in the room now is the both your and Bucky’s harsh breathing and the television still playing that stupid fucking show. Bucky doesn’t move right away, of which you’re very thankful, because you’re not ready to feel the emptiness you know is coming, and it feels nice in a weird way to have him buried in you.

“Fuck,” he exhales, breaking the relative silence.

It makes you giggle, a small thing that turns into something uncontrollable, and when you manage to look at Bucky, he’s grinning in a dopey way that sets you off even more.

This is definitely something the two of you will have to talk about when you’re both sober, but like the buttons, that can be handled later. Although, something tells you it’ll all turn out just fine.

#bucky barnes x reader #bucky barnes x you #bucky barnes fic #bucky barnes fanfiction #bucky barnes smut #bucky barnes #pls take this away from me before i scream

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thatdeadaquarius · 1 year ago

Text

Genshin Impact Sagau/Isekai:

You still have acces to characters! ...by possessing them. 👻

PART 2 (you're here!) / Part 1

All art by me! :] leave me a iced coffee?? :0

HEY!! REALLY QUICK PLEASE READ!

STOP tagging my posts as "Yandere Sagau", "Sagau Cult AU", "Sagau Imposter AU" or other related dark content tags.

I'm sick of seeing reblogs that tag my work as dark content, when I'm specifically trying to LIGHTEN UP THE SAGAU TAG 😭😭??

Please be more respectful of this. Actually read the work before you just tag it incorrectly. Tags do matter.

/nm /gen

☆

Sun: Gender Neutral Reader (they/them)

Planet: Misc. Genshin AUs

Orbit: Headcanons, Scenarios

Stars: Tighnari ft. Cyno, Alhaitham, Collei

Comets & Meteors:

Content Warnings: Mild violence (bandit attacks/non-graphic), Reader/you possess people non-consent (mild/consent given eventually)

& Trigger Warnings: Reader/"you" possess people non-consenually for short times, but given consent eventually.

(pls comment if any more!)

Edit 9/7/23: 1,000+ NOTES?? WHO WHAT WHEN WHERE WHY- THANK YOU???

Edit 12/24/23 + 4/5/24:

☆

My goofy ass forgot to put this here .-.

Anyway this is a full length fanfic now ;)

…mistakes were made.

bad decisions were had, and okay, mayyybbbeee you could’ve taken more precautions against people finding out you were “real”.

afterall, you did see the Eremites reaction, even if it was only two guys (one from each camp) that you possessed :/

word spreads quickly amongst the Eremites groups, you guess, bc next thing you knew, after you’d moved closer to floating around Gandharva Ville,

they’d called that entire bit of forest haunted.

BUT IN YOUR DEFENSE-!! how were you supposed to know they’d blab to the whole camp they didn’t remember the past 20 minutes after you unpossessed them?? and immediately be on guard and jump to possession?? (Irminsul works hard but eremites/sumeru people work harder u guess)

And by the time you were happily patrolling with Collei, the forest rangers were just so chill you didn’t really expect anybody would think a ghost was possessing them (or whatever you were now… maybe,, just code?? it’s unclear)

so when u start to see Tighnari squint at people who’ve technically just “woken up” after you possessed them, mumbling under his breath more and more as a file he carries around gets thicker and thicker-

you start to think,,, maybe.

okay, mayyybbbeee,

you’ve fucked up.

◇

You really can’t help it, first it was making sure Collei got back safely from patrols (she’s ur skrunkly okay, you can’t help it, you’re still aware she’s capable but- the urge to skrunkle overpowers you- )

but then-!! You managed to spot Cyno! :D its ur boy!! ur little meow meow, who can throw people over his shoulder!! He really doesn’t need you, hovering around, but eh ¯\_ (ツ)_/¯

what could it hurt! …it’s not like he can see, hear, or feel you anyway…

(unless u possess some animal/machine he thinks is friendly, which. sumeru is not exactly known for cuddly creatures. you don’t feel like experiencing death when possessing stuff just yet-)

imagine ur panic and shock as the General Mahamatra takes on a camp of criminals on the run, only for one of the old ruin machines (the ones that are just LEG and DEATH)

to hear the ruckus and come stomping around a thick patch of trees, it launched missiles!! You can’t warn Cyno, he can’t hear you!! No one can!!! The criminals are unconscious, there’s no other wildlife nearby they all ran off!!! FUCK-

You look at him and try to imagine his perspective as vividly as you can, he’s looking over the criminals, but now he’s turning, so people passed out and the tree-line got it-

Congratulations! You’ve possessed Cyno. 💀

It completely disorients you for a second, but then the panic of dodging the missiles comes back in time for you to make his body dive and roll off to the side, for as long as you can manage a roll too since you remember that’s the best way to dodge missiles in the game

…which works really well! bc he’s so fit and agile tbh

It was weird to finally run again after so long (two months now in teyvat?? wow)

with your feet suddenly in sandals, and feeling the breeze chilling your bare chest (Cyno’s chest??)

yeah its a shock considering most of the ppl you’ve possessed lately have been fully clothed rangers lol

you quickly imagine your ghostly form again, and just like that you’re drifting out of Cyno in ur “ghosty” form, having floated out and away from his back

Poor guy looks so fucking confused, and immediately is wielding his spear again, and is about to get out the crouch you put him in behind the dilapidated stone wall (dammit he better not waste ur efforts to keep him alive-)

until missiles slam and explode against it, he ducks back down (thank fuck) and Cyno just looks around one last time before hopping the wall and running to fight the thing

you notice that when the electro user goes to use his powers, they seem stronger than they were in his fight with the goons??

Maybe he was just going easier on them, since they are only human?

…so why does even Cyno look surprised when he goes to make a simple swipe with his charged spear and a bolt of lightning cracks out from his spear instead…?

…weird.

◇

Tighnari knows you’re here.

You figure he must have collected the reports of people “blacking out” or “sleep-walking” or whatever else and begun to suspect the worst.

…to be honest, you’re not sure what to do.

on one hand, it would be great to have someone know you actually exist, as yourself,

but on the other…

What would Tighnari think?

Of you possessing his rangers?? Temporarily taking ownership of someone without permission??? You’re afraid he’d think the worst of you…

tho u didn’t do so often, as u realized how messed up this could be, and u never did more than make them walk or talk normally for a few minutes before leaving them alone!

… afterall, you missed interacting with people. You were honestly a little worried abt going crazy, which is the only reason u were desperate enough to possess human people in the first place and continue doing so, just to talk to someone and have them look you in the face again like you really did exist as a person here-

(u thought u remember reading somewhere back on Earth that someone can only last 3 days of no other human contact until they start to lose it? but even if that’s not true, at the very least, u dont think talking one-sidedly to yourself all the time is healthy…)

so when Tighnari seems to get that file you’ve seen him adding onto, and gather up supplies, mentioning a day trip to Collei and the others to Sumeru City for some

“further research into these ‘blackouts’, and also contacting some of my colleagues who might know something…”

there’s no way you’re not going with him.

you feel increasingly anxious all day, and at one point when you were sure Tighnari was walled-in by books at the House of Daena, decide to go blow off the anxious energy by possessing an animal to get some food!

…you’re not really feeling comfortable enough to possess a living being into eating yet, that seems hella nonconsensual, and u kinda would be taking the joy of the meal from them tbh-

so u possess a cat!

a ginger cat, bc u like to think if u do anything weird, that ppl in Teyvat have the same type of cats back on Earth and excuse it as just:

“unhinged ginger cats being unhinged ginger cats yep makes sense” lol

you’d managed to be really cute (and wasn’t that weird, having to mimic animal behaviors like rubbing ur side against a person’s legs..)

and convince one of the cooks of Lambad’s Tavern to give u some leftovers, and been about to go off to try out sunbathing before the chore boy, little shit he is, tried to chase you off with a broom!! >:( the audacity!! you clearly have a little plate and everything!!

luckily, you’d finished eating, but still! Ouch!! those bristles fucking hurt-!!!

…you look and see a Sumeru-ified version of a skateboard, and u just know ur little cat face is just ✨v✨

and u steal the little shit’s skateboard as revenge! HAHA thats what you get animal abuser!!!

The kid’s yelling at you as you speedily skate away with ur little cat paws (LMAOO), but the cooks are calling him back in so he can’t pursue, (oh good u hear them get onto him for chasing u off)

and as u slow down to coast along the Sumeru streets,

you feel someone’s eyes staring you down.

You assume it’s just people being amused at a cat skateboarding, obv

but when you look just ahead of you to see a smiling Sumeru citizen or eremite-

Oh. It’s Alhaitham.

and he’s just… watching you.

he’s stopped reading whatever he’s got in his hand, and is slowlyyyy turning his head as you pass by…

You decide to just keep skating away. LMAO

◇

it’s already sunset by the you’re accompanying Tighnari back from Sumeru City, floating along behind him

and you’d been expecting a calm walk back, tbh you’d been feeling a little better bc the ranger hadn’t found much to identify you, yet, luckily-

but bc u can never catch a break:

Tighnari didn’t see the bandits dropping from the goddamn trees BEHIND HIM- and they had like claymores out- those were definitely gonna be killing blows-!!

so yeah.

You possessed Tighnari.

turns out ur pretty good at dodging bc this is second time now you’ve helped dive away for someone in an ambush, ur kinda proud of urself tbh💀

and as you make him take a few leaps back, ur ears twitch in the wind as you duck behind a tree, then float away and out of his body

The poor hybrid ranger visibly sways, then shakes his head out of it, and he flicks his ears in different directions, squinting into the woods, he’s pulled out his bow, so you’re at least reassured he’s aware there are enemies

Like Cyno last week, he too gives up and rolls for the next tree for cover and begins to shoot and take down the bandits

the rest of the week is kinda a blur after that, bc it’s mostly filled with Tighnari running in circles around the camp checking for blackouts, writing letters to Alhaitham and Cyno apparently, and you not possessing anybody out of paranoia :/

Most notably however,

you’ve unfortunately discovered one of the few drawbacks of ur possessions

(y’know, besides not existing essentially, what with no one being able to sense u outside of possessions)

apparently, if someone walks thru you, they accidentally force you to possess them 💀??

while it’d already happened once with a random ranger that you didnt notice was walking up behind you,

you didn’t want to test it again just yet bc it kinda made YOU nauseous and incredibly dizzy when this happened

(as in, u stumbled like a drunk after this poor ranger woman ran thru u, until you were so dizzy and the world spun sm u had to make her sit on the literal ground, luckily she just thought she was just really dehydrated when she came back into herself 😭)

so obviously, you’ve avoided crowds to keep this forced possession thingy from happening all the time

like at the Forest Rangers meetings or something, ur watching off to the side, instead of standing with them or beside them

so needless to say, after about a week and half since possessing Tighnari,

you definitely did not mean to possess Collei.

She’d been in her wheelchair today, the Eleazar flaring up and tiring her body out

so her wheels had been entirely silent when she rolled up to where you and Tighnari were leaning over some strange experiments of his- you were just trying to figure out what all these mirrors were for, didn’t he do plants more-?

you didn’t even know what the hell happened, you just felt that familiar dropping sensation, like a small drop on a rollarcoaster, blinked, and then suddenly you were sitting instead of standing/floating???

Oh god-

before you could even begin to process that Tighnari was in front of you instead of beside you, the world was shorter,

The fox-eared ranger yelled in triumph, grinning with sharp fangs and spinning around to look at you (Collei)-

“Ah-ha! It worked! Finally, I saw you! I saw you, I-?? Oh gods, Collei, NO-!”

And with quick reflexes, Tighnari’s summoned his bow, but he’s clearly confused on what to do about this situation, taking aim, but also holding the air glowing with dendro not as taunt as you’d seen him in the battle with the bandits

You scramble to raise your hands up, brown poofy sleeves rise to your command, light green hair you can feel on your shoulders, everything is familiar, but not-

“WAIT! I’m sorry!! This was an accident, I promise! I don’t intend to hurt Collei, or you!! Please, just, don’t shoot me, I think you’ll just hurt Collei instead…”

You talk him down and decide, that if he’s put this much effort into finding out about your existence, is an incredible leader and friend to everyone around him, and was able to accept the traveler and many other strange things that’ve (probably? maybe?) already happened in Sumeru (god fuck u dont even know where in the timeline you are)

that you can probably trust Tighnari with your existence, and your powers.

…He nearly passes out.

◇

Life has gotten a lot funnier, and happier, since you told Tighnari (and some of the more trustworthy rangers and Collei by proxy) about ur existence (or really, confirmed it)

He’d been wary at first, appropiately cautious and demanding answers, of which you were happy to give and explain yourself

luckily, after a whole lot of “hmm, I see, no, I think I’m understanding-” , finger on his chin and everything

he’s said it’s okay to hang around the rangers, so long as you don’t possess anyone anymore without them knowing about you/with permission (outside of emergency situations that is)

tho he did seem surprisingly understanding and accepting of you doing it before after you explained how u were just unbelievably lonely and were lowkey paranoid of going crazy-

The rangers seem to believe you’re some kind of god/spirit thing, as you had no explanation yourself as to what you were ¯\_ (ツ)_/¯

Tighnari’s also given you the rule to help out around here if you’re going to “ghost-laze around”, as he puts it lol

you’ve redirected ruin machines/feral animals away from rangers many times by now, to the many thanks and gratefulness of the rangers

you’ve even managed to even figure out how to push Collei’s wheelchair around when she uses it!

mostly by possessing tree after tree and using vines, or occasionally a fungi that can fly so you can nudge her along

she has insisted that you possess a ruin guard and carry her just to try it… however, Tighnari overheard her talking to the forest rangers’ dog (you) and immediately knew shit was up and banned you from doing it (at least not yet)

While most rangers are okay with you possessing them for a few minutes (and they’ve developed this bandana wrapped around their upper arms policy of “red = no possess, green = go ahead”)

Collei is the most okay with it and for longer, so you “won’t be that lonely ever again!” :’)

Tighnari is busy with stuff, so you can’t possess him as often, but the ranger has developed a theory that the more you possess someone, the more they can sense your feelings during possession/while floating around in ghost form too,

so he’ll occasionally feel you in the room with him, and start talking out loud in some one-sided convo to make you feel more included to make up for not being able to interact with him sometimes :)

(after taking you off his list of worries he’s still pretty swamped, not that he’ll tell you that, as he’s still not quite sure why he’s so, warm and safe feeling when you’re around, so willing to trust you so naturally, that it makes him want to at leats pretend to be worried abt a possessing ghost god/thing hanging out with the rangers now)

◇

basically everything is great!

the rangers are okay with you, they got a system to interact with you consensually, Tighnari and Collei are fond of you, you get to finally have something to do instead of floating around all the time (joining ranger missions)

and look!! they’ve even been kind enough to build you a little shrine or altar of sorts! Notes about Sumeru life, recipes for you to try, occasionally some books for you to read, and even some snacks/desserts for you to try out the next time someone possesses you and gives consent! (you leave them a little note stuck on their hand with your question for specific actions like that, if there isn’t another ranger there to ask for you when you unpossess them)

and everything is so cool, and everyone is so sweet and accepting

…Until Alhaitham shows up in Gandharva Ville, knocking on Tighnari’s door.

☆

AHHHH idk if this is any good! sorry it took so long, it was mostly the art 😭😭

anyway its not the best (the writing or the art) but i hope it’s at least some content to look at and be entertained for a minute!

also figured it was a good day to post what with the attack on our beloved Ao3 (tho i think it’s back up now?)

anyway, feel free to leave critiques on this one! (which I’ll probably turn this into a real fic one day soon, but not sure what to do with the plot/do a diff setup than this or what)

☆

sorry abt the radio silence! I just needed to close my mailbox bc i had a lot of stuff to answer, ur welcome to send submissions to chat/non-requests!

and also this took time to make (once again, mostly the art, bc thats how it always is with art isnt it 😭)

☆

Safe Travels Stranger,

💀♒

☆

♡the beloveds♡

@karmawonders / @0rah-s / @randomnatics / @glxssynarvi / @nexylaza / @genshin-impacts-me / @wholesomey-artist / @thedevioussmirk / @the-dumber-scaramouche / @justlostintheinternet / @assassinsnake101 /@sun-wokung

If ur tag is here and didnt work, idk why!

Maybe see if your listed as a "searchable blog"?

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pinescent-and-gingerbread · 3 months ago

Text

✧Night Moths

✦ Pairing: Arthur Morgan x Fem!Reader ✦ Summary: Arthur has a simple task to do, searching for any lead possible at the Mayor's party. Only problem? You also have a job of your own. Based on “The Gilded Cage” ✦ Warnings/tags: guns, strangers to…sinners?, SMUT 18+, reader is part of a St Denis gang, cover names used at first, smoking, Arthur is extremely horny and a little rough with you (you pushed his limits), cursing, outdoor sex, fingering, tits play, multiple orgasms, unprotected p in v ✦ Words: 9,8k ✦ a/n: YES. I KNOW. This is super long. I have absolutely zero excuse. I feel like this is my best piece yet, but I'm so nervous about posting it! Once again, a big thank you to the incredible @zae-heeyyy, my jedi master, my confidence-booster and patience Queen, who beta-read this big baby and helped me so much with so many things, as always. (Go check her blog I'm begging you)

Glasses are twinkling and clinking all around you. Words are spoken, laughs are let out, champagne drank.

You're leaning against one of the stoned garden walls, fancy decor of the Mayor's house, the perfectly cut bushes looking just as fresh and neat as every guest at this party. You can hear the distinguished music coming from a quartet playing under a gazebo a few meters away from you, and smell the fresh air of the night blending with aromas of flowers, expensive alcohol, hint of vanilla and sweet scents hiding a stronger note of sweat and cologne. Around you, all the richest, wealthiest, and noteworthiest of people in St Denis. You can hear them talk; their conversation as dull and superficial as an empty chrysalid, an abandoned cocoon emptied from all substance, from all interest and life.

You hated those kinds of discussions. Hated those kinds of people, the ones that have the easiest and simplest life one could ever have; being fed, being cared for, even being told what to think and do. You almost envied them in a way, they didn't have to worry about a single thing apart from losing their power. It seemed comfortable somehow, worry-free. The exact opposite of what you had always known.

And yet, you had to bear with them. A very specific task had been assigned to you by your gang. A simple job, one you were often sent off to as you had grown by the years into a great thief and a terribly efficient shapeshifter; blending into any type of party, or gathering, always making a good impression, putting people at ease. You were now an expert at this little game, especially with rich men. They were all the same, always wanting more, demanding the same thing from you. You had learned how to play with their greediness and lust to turn it into your advantage, saloons becoming your jungle as you sneaked easily between your prey to rob them, a deadly and redoubtable leopard in a world of apes.

You needed to steal some important documents from the mayor's office. The main informer of your gang had specified it was a pretty strong lead, and that you could gain a lot from it; something to do with Leviticus Cornwall's dirty deeds with the mayor, a blackmail opportunity.

Your boss had decided to send you, knowing you would easily integrate the party, and even more easily steal the documents. So here you were, feline eyes looking all around you, scanning, observing, evaluating. You couldn't just come, steal the papers, and go; it would have been too suspicious. All the contrary, you needed to be seen and leave a good impression like you always did, maybe stay for a couple of hours, and then smoothly retrieve your goal before disappearing in the secrecy of the dark night. A flamboyant, harmless butterfly… on the surface.

You sighed, trying to pay attention to what was being said to you. Right in front of you, a middle-aged man was talking, explaining something about how he had acquired his incredible wealth. His speech was sadly boring, his eyes glum, his clothes basic, his face awfully bland.

The empty chrysalis in all its gloomy glory.

You forced yourself to nod and give the man a charming smile. This was your job. You had to at least do it properly. Why was tonight a lot harder than the others? Were you frightened to be right under the Mayor's nose, fooling him into his own home? Were you tired, or sick?

In a way, you were. Sick of this life, of this constant pretending, of being here listening to the literal hollow vessel bragging about himself, sick of needing to appear actually interested, charmed even.

Suddenly, the music coming from the quartet is too loud, sharp violin blending with his words, making you even less focused. You were here for too long already, you needed a break and to finish your mission.

You politely interrupted the stranger, placing a gentle hand on his forearm, a gesture that you had noticed was prompt to soften most men. Along with your most charming smile, you excused yourself from him and quickly walked to a less crowded area, praying that no one would interrupt you.

You made your way up to the exterior stairs of the luxurious mansion just before the patio door and windows, and stopped on top of them, placing your hands on the central low wall, between two Greek columns. Another fancy facade, the house itself was just an imitation from another culture. Did any of these fools have any personal identity at all?

From here, you had a good view of the whole party. Countless fake smiles, masks, a literal scene of a play that could have its place at the Théâtre Râleur. A play of pale phantom shells.

You reached for your purse, taking a cigarette out, mindlessly putting it between your lips. Maybe smoking would help. You searched for a match, silently cursing realizing you hadn't any left.

"Ya need some fire, Ma’am?"

A deep voice said behind you, making you turn, surprised. It was unusual for people to startle you, your ears had been trained to notice the faintest of footsteps in order to survive.

You got even more surprised considering who had talked. A man was standing before you. He was taller, and largely wider than you, his black suit struggling to contain what looked like a well-built body; which made you wonder how could he have been so quiet. His shoulders especially looked way broader than the men you had the habit of running into at those sorts of gatherings. A very classical white bow looked like it was strangling him. His black tailcoat and white jacket looked larger too, making you wonder how much did he had to pay for the tailor to sew them custom-made.

His hair had a soft indescribable color, somewhere between a light brown and a sandy blond. His face, the work of a brutal draftsman, rough edges and strong squared jaw gratified with some scars. One on his chin, another on his nose, nose that seemed broken now that you were thinking about it. It looked like the artist that had drawn this man had sharpened his pencils too much and traced lines in a hurry, piercing through the canvas, his features ending up rugged and scared, some trace of graphite shrapnel that would have damaged the portrait.

What disturbed you the most were his eyes. They looked out of place considering how robust his features were. One could have expected them to be dark, black even. But they were the exact opposite, their bright and soft indigo color leaving you disarmed, two sapphires locked on your own pupils.

He was handing you a match, and you slowly took it, your fingers slightly discovering how his palm felt under them. Firm, calloused. Another stone-like feature of him.

He looked like those Greek statues carved by artists. His beauty so singular and yet enticing. So different.

"Why, thank you, kind sir." You showed your gratitude to him with a grin, lighting the match by simply rubbing it against the cold stone of the fence, a little flame appearing instantly. You brought it to your mouth, the cigarette finally catching fire, and you breathed in.

"Ya don't smoke much?" He questioned, voice deep. You hadn't noticed how deep it was the first time, nor how pronounced his accent was, dragging and drawling every word, a slow melody of his own.

"Not too often, indeed." You informed him. It was the truth, you were basically just smoking during jobs to blend in more easily, most people doing it. It was an easy way to start a conversation with anyone. Just like he had done with you, you noted.

"Needed a break from high society?" He inquired, a sarcastic tone in his voice.

"I guess you could say that." You answered, exhaling a long drag of smoke.

You were now completely turned to face him, your cigarette making back and forth from your mouth to the air where you tossed the burned ashes with a little movement from your thumb to the cigarette’s end. Your motions were elegant, distinguished but looked natural. It caught his interest.

"What's your name, sir?" You spoke again, curious about this uncommon newcomer.

"Tacitus Kilgore. What is yours, Ma'am?" He asked you back before placing himself on your left, both of you leaning on the low fence of the patio.

You contained a chuckle. There was no way in the World this man was named like this. You knew something was odd about him. The scars, his knuckles redden and subtly wounded as if had fought recently. His strong stature, miles away from a lazy bourgeois being served, his wild hair longer than the actual trendy haircut, his stubble fitting more a countryman than an actual St Denis gentleman.

Years of playing with people and observing them had made your eyes alert and expert, and you could see when someone was pretending.

When someone was playing a role just like you were, not belonging into this World.

"Rose Schultz." Of course, it wasn't your real name either. You had to be a really poor thief to give him your actual one. He didn't react to it though, his face impassible just like the start of your whole conversation.

Apart from this vague feeling you had about him not being a rich gentleman, you found trouble in reading his emotions. His facial features were closed, impenetrable, mysterious. This also disturbed you as you had the habits of figuring men out right away; he on the other hand was a whole challenge by himself, his intentions hidden behind an emotionless face. This man probably was a champion at poker.

"Nice t' meet ya, Missus Schultz. Are you, erm, hidin' from someone here? Or jus' judgin' everyone from your perch?" He went on with a more amused voice.

"Just know that I'm not the type to hide from someone, Mister." You replied, a little grin curling up your lips.

"Yeah, you sure don't look like it..."

"You wanna know what I think you look like, Mister?"

"Go ahead."

"A wild horse who's trapped, and can't wait to be freed again."

Silence. His eyes stared deeply into yours, stabbing you in sharp blue flashes of Apatite, as keen as the blade of a knife. After just a few seconds, you finally see his mouth moving, his cold expression changing as a slight grin made his way between the stillness of his features.

"You sort of a witch or somethin' ?" He asked you, amused once again. His little smile is even more evident in his eyes, his lower eyelids crinkling slightly in amusement.

"Maybe." You answered cockily, feeling more at ease with him now that he was slightly more open.

Still, there was something that was making you feel weak in the knees; maybe it was his tall stature, his strong build, or the palpable tension you could feel beaming out from him, as if he was ready to jump on someone who would have crossed him at any second.

In a way, you liked it. It was almost exciting.

"I better not mess wi’chu then. Don't wanna end up cursed or somethin'." He joked, features relaxing, body leaning slightly more against the low wall in a more comfortable position.

"Oh, I wouldn't dare. You also look like the type of man you don't wanna mess with..."

"I'm surprised how well you already know me, darlin'." He admitted, internally enjoying your conversation more and more.

Your heart swelled at the surname. It felt so good in your ears, it sounded better than from any person who ever said it to you. You wanted to hear it again. You wanted to hear him say it just to you.

"I'm kinda talented at figuring people out." You simply replied, before taking another drag at your cigarette.

"I too. And I also think you're not here to jus' play nice with everyone and enjoy yourself." He suddenly confessed to you with a knowing gaze, eyebrows raising as if he was trying to make you understand something.

He knew too. You both knew you weren't from this world, like two predators from the same species, recognizing themselves, circling, judging, from one individual to another. Your breath stopped for a very short time, nobody could have noticed it, but somehow you were sure he did.

"Don't ya worry little "rose", I won't tell no one..."

You didn't miss how he was playing with your false name. On top of being astonishingly handsome, he had some spirit…

He's still looking intensely into your eyes. "In return, I expect you to do the same...", he added in a low voice, his tone firmer and even more resonant than earlier.

A threat. His presence only intimidates you, and it's working so well that you're almost sure he must be an expert in terrorizing too. He must be one hell of a weapon all by himself.

You slowly nodded your head, trying to swallow as naturally as possible to look unphased.

"Guess we have a deal here, "Tacitus"." You emphasized his name, making it clear you're more than doubtful about it being real too.

It made him laugh, and you almost lost it at the sound of it. It was as deep, raw, and genuine as his entire being seemed to be. You loved it. You loved it too much.

Exhaling some smoke, you noticed he had pulled out a cigarette too and had joined your smoking, holding it between his thumb and index finger. You had mixed feelings for this man. He was just as intimidating as he was enticing, and you let your curiosity win the best of you as you carried on your conversation with him.

"I hate it here." You suddenly confessed.

There was no point in playing anymore, and even if you didn’t really know why you had told him that, a part of you felt like maybe, just maybe, he could have understood you.

"Yeah, I get what ya mean. Sometimes I think that those people are jus'… reptiles in fancy clothin'."

You had seen right. Your chest felt light, as if he had lifted a weight in you with just those simple words.

"I just want to be anywhere else but here. Somewhere nicer, more authentic. Like in Big Valley..." You went on with your regrets.

"You too know about this place uh? Yeah, I can picture ya picking flowers in Lil’ Creek..."

This time it was your turn to chuckle, your laugh creating a little puff of smoke in the air. Was he being serious or just teasing you? You didn’t really care. Now, you felt like something special was linking you both as you knew exactly where this spot was, a happy memory brought back in your mind thanks to his words. The wild and fresh river, the meadows covered in thousands of violet flowers, the snowy mountains in the background.

Your cristal-clear laugh made him smile back at you.

"So... What does a woman like you is actually doing here, then?" He asked you, his eyes roaming all along your body while he did.

You were glad you had put on the prettiest dress you had, its dark burgundy color matching perfectly the tone of your skin, and its generous cleavage showing a delicious amount of your chest, underlined by a black translucent shawl covering your shoulders and twirling around your arms. You were offering a tempting sight for every man. You knew he had looked at it, his eyes lingering there had almost burned your skin, sent a warm feeling between your tights, and made your hand hold your cigarette tighter.

"You really thought it would be that easy, Mister?" You answered with another cheeky grin, looking at him with a sensual gaze, your words let out in a languorous whisper, knowing damn well he was trying to gain information, probably to probe if he could get something out of it for himself. "You really thought I would just confess everything to you about myself and what I'm doing here, just because you've got a firm tone and pretty face?"

He let out a dry single chuckle, his cigarette hanging in the air, smirking some more. This damn smirk, it was making you have more and more inappropriate thoughts about this man. The wildness, the dangerousness he was emitting should have made every girl flee, but you, all the contrary, were attracted by it like a moth to a flame.

Or maybe he was the Moth. Maybe he was the beautiful, singular, and ephemeral Moth in the world of chrysalides you were searching for all along.

"Oh trust me, I could make you spit out everythin' I want, Miss." He replied to your taunting words with the serious threatening tone he had used before. "Could make this pretty mouth behave..." He added, looking right into your soul, bending slightly towards you.

You felt like the tension was about to make your whole body burst. There was something between you two, you were sure he could feel it too. A sinuous, dark creature swimming and circling incessantly under the surface of a frozen lake; waiting, craving to be unleashed, to break the thin layer of ice that was keeping it caged.

He was inviting you to measure yourself to him. Bent towards you, wanting you to close the other half of the space between you both. A challenge, or a mark of respect, the case you didn’t want to venture into this territory.

But truth was, you wanted to. You wanted to break the ice yourself, you wanted to just kiss him, right here, right now.

Of course, it was a bad idea. And you were a professional, on a mission.

Instead, you put your hand on his bicep and brought your head inches away from his, not closing the space between your mouths. You’re accepting this silent fight, excited to show him what you’re capable of. You’re enveloped by his strong scent; your lips so close to his. You can see by his widening smirk how delighted he is you didn’t change your mind nor lost your guts. Responding to your bold move, he slowly snaked an arm around your waist. His hand landed on your lower back, just on the verge of being offensive.

Both of you stayed like this for a moment, your breath mixing, merging in a dangerous and exciting cocktail, but neither of you actually crossing the limit.

He could sense just how close he was to though, his muscles were tensed under your fingers, his forehead almost resting on yours with a light frown on it. You could see in his impassive handsome face a whole new emotion.

Pure, raw lust.

"You're such a temptatious, thorny rose..." He mumbled in a hot whisper against your lips, the warmth between your legs now burning like a wildfire. Your pussy was aching for him, and you couldn't hold it anymore.

You felt his body twitching as he was going to finally do it, finally break the ice of the frozen lake, finally let his impulses and needs break free, his unholy, deep, atrociously torturous desires-

"Ah, Arthur !" A relieved voice interrupted both of you and he immediately let go of you, his head snapping to look at the man who had talked, eyes widening.

A tall gentleman with a perfectly cut mustache as black as his long curly hair and hat was looking at your companion with a contained, amused smile.

"Will you excuse us, Miss?" He said unctuously to you, his voice polite and charming.

It was more of a statement than a question. He quickly took one of your hands and put a polite kiss on it before bending slightly towards you, as a gentleman would, and looked at your opponent with an insistent gaze.

Arthur was fulminating. He wasn't actually showing it, his face had come back to its usual cold, emotionless expression. But you could feel from where you were the unbearable tension and frustration that was dripping from his body language, almost as a halo of warmth you could physically touch with your hands. He took a last look at you, eyes expressing a mix of regret and bitterness.

"Goodnight, Miss." He coldly greeted you, walking next to you to follow his friend and go down the stairs, his shoulder brushing against yours while doing it.

"Goodnight, Arthur..." You answered him emphasizing his name once again, making it really clear that you remembered it was not the one he had given you and that you were pretty proud you had seen right. A playful, teasing grin on your face, you look one last time at him before he vanished in the ocean of guests.

Your Butterfly had disappeared just as quickly as he had materialized; leaving you alone with the empty cocoons once more. It was more than time for you to do your job and get out of here. Your cigarette finished, now feeling cold between your fingers, you tossed it away and headed into the mansion, feeling just as frustrated as so-called Arthur.

Arthur was pissed. He had never felt so frustrated in ages, and it was making his thoughts even less easy to discipline. His cigarette was on the verge of being smoked all at once from how intense he was getting and how heavy his breath had turned, the end of it constantly burning in a red shining little point as he was walking.

This whole year he had felt like he didn't have any control over anything anymore and he hated it.

He was already feeling embittered in his everyday life, Dutch listening less and less to his opinion, Micah sneaking around him more and more, Mary coming back to him just to ask him to help her goddamn father who had always treated him like shit.

On top of that, Dutch had made him look like an idiot using his actual name in front of you, making him wonder what was even the whole point of having a cover if he wasn't capable of sticking to it; which he had bitterly pointed out to him, but his superior had shrugged it off, seemingly happy to be here amongst the important people, looking as careless as ever.

Yes, Arthur was feeling frustrated, frustrated and tired of this. Tonight, instead of giving of himself, he wanted to take, for once. He needed to, even. He was about to before being interrupted, and this thought was gnawing at him from the inside.

He was barely paying attention to what Dutch was saying to him and the others once Hosea and Bill had joined them. All he could see was your insanely beautiful face, your inviting lips, the perfect outline of your breasts from your cleavage, like engraved into his pupils.

The way you were talking, charming and teasing, the way you were smoking, all of this dreadfully turning him on during all your conversation. He had made an enormous amount of effort in order not to just kiss you.

He had joked about you being a witch, but it was the only explanation: you had bewitched him, threw your darkest, most sinful curse on him. Never in his life he had felt so attracted to someone after having talked with them for only such a short amount of time. What an insane fool he was.

On top of it, he was raging about the fact he probably wouldn't have the occasion to see you ever again. He had understood you clearly weren't just another rich man's wife, and he was certain you had given him a false name. His cock was throbbing terribly hurtfully in his pants, making his jaw clench, his brows frowning even more than usual. It was begging to be buried in you, between your legs, in your mouth, or your hands, even your breasts or your ass, anything but the cold feeling of nothingness he was feeling right now around it.

The sudden explosive sound and colorful lighting of fireworks had pulled him out of his blasphemous thoughts.

He understood Dutch was ordering him something about following one of the Mayor's domestic, and gladly obliged, relieved to have another thing to focus on. Something about Cornwall sending an important letter to Lemieux, which he had to steal. Nothing difficult, he had done those sorts of things countless times.

Nothing new.

Nothing puzzling, like you had been.

As he followed the man, eyes locked on his white suit from afar, he quickly took a glance at the patio to see if you were still there. You weren't. His dick ached as he let out a deep exhale. Damn it.

Arthur rapidly found himself inside the Mayor's house. His servant had entered what looked like an office. He waited a few seconds after the room had felt silent, behind the corner of the walls, just to be sure, and entered it.

The room was indeed an office, a little desk with an armchair on his left, bookcases covering every wall, simply illuminated by a flickering orange lamp. Everything looked normal, except for the dark figure of a person in the middle of the place.

You.

He recognized your sensual dress immediately and witnessed you shoving some papers in what looked like a leathered little pocket held around your right thigh by leathered straps, just like a holster would be. His mind raced, a million reflections flying under his eyes.

You were some sort of professional thief. And he didn’t have to be a genius to understand you had just taken the precise thing he was there for.

"That's why you were here, lil' rose?!" He asked you almost in disbelief, closing the door behind him.

You looked at him with a bold grin, looking almost amused by the situation. He, on the other hand, felt nothing but amusement. Anger, to have been fooled so easily, and that you had got ahead of him, losing the quiet game that had been played out between you. Envy, as you were now possessing two things he wanted to take away from you. Arousal, as his eyes were glued to the thigh that was now visible to his greedy eyes as you had pulled up your dress to put the sheets in your hidden pocket. Need, as his member felt hard again just by the sight of you doing it.

"Yeah, and you can only dream for me to give them to you if those papers were your target too, Arthur."

Damn, that teasing, cheeky mouth of yours. His fantasies came back in full force, and his gaze darkened. As temptatious as you were, he needed those documents. And he would do anything he had to to have them back.

"Give ‘em to me." He lowly ordered you, voice so severe you could have melted right into the carpeted floor of this damn office. But you didn't.

"Hell no."

"Give ‘em t’me, woman. I won't ask nicely a third time."

"If you want them, you'll have to catch me, pretty boy."

Lord, why was everyone so prompt to call him this way lately? He almost grunted at the way you had said it, and he would have lied if this time he didn't like it when it fell from your lips. He wanted to reply with something witty and even more threatening, but in a flash, you had opened the window, and easily jumped outside.

This Goddamn woman. What was she exactly? Some sort of feline? Yeah, probably a panther, agile, impressive, dangerous like one.

He instantly ran after you, jumping through the window too, landing in a loud thud. He quickly spotted your dress running away, escaping by the entry’s portal, then in the nearest street, disappearing behind St Denis's myriad of flashing lights.

How could he had missed it? His mind was filled with images of it.

He had the common decency of grabbing back his gun from the butler at the party's entry, making him almost fall on the ground as he hadn't slowed but had grabbed them while running, the poor man wondering what the Hell made both of these people in such a hurry.

He was now flying at full speed around the luxurious streets, following the faint glimpse of your dress's color at the corner of every turn. He felt like he could follow your scent like a hunting dog, your sweet and peachy perfume confirming him you had passed there before.

He had enough, feeling his restrain and manners crackling more and more into little pieces. You were making him feel like a damn animal, reducing his whole being to primal needs and functions. He should have been disgusted with himself for that. But all he could do right now was thinking about the damn documents hidden against your damn alluring thigh.

"Stop now, you Goddamn... Evil woman!" He tried to call you out, but you just wouldn't stop. He started firing at you, getting angrier and more fed up by the second, a bullet exploding a piece of the bricked wall right next to your head, some splinters cutting slightly the top of your ear.

You bent over to dodge his bullets one more time and you heard him cursing again loudly behind you. On top of being big, strong and clever, he was fast. In a quick movement of your feet, shaking them, you removed your shoes, unable to run at your fastest speed with heels. You continued your frenzied course, way more at ease.

Arthur rushed in where you were just mere seconds after you, noticing the shoes abandoned on the floor. What the Hell was even this woman, he asked himself for the second time this evening. Some sort of temptatious, dark retelling of Cinderella?

He almost made himself laugh at the thought, understanding your move because his own polished shoes were frankly a pain to run with, making him slip with every shift as if he was walking on soap and regret his good old boots, before acknowledging he had lost your trace.

Shit!

He looked all around him, his eyes scanning every inch, his breath rapid and sharp, his forehead and neck a pool of sweat. No signs of you, unless...

Something fell right on his face, but gently, as a caress from a fresh breeze. Your perfume filled up his nostrils and lungs and it made his heart race. He took it in his hands, the sensations pleasant under his fingerprints.

It was your black shawl.

Tilting his head up, he found you.

You were making your way up to the roof of the town by climbing on a thin ladder.

Arthur exhaled deeply through his nose like a buffalo. He was used to this kind of high-speed chase, but this was a whole new thing, which made him regret his lasso too, his hand searching for it on his belt out of habit but closing on nothing.

Damned party, damned suit, damned you.

He climbed after you, refusing to give up, enraged like a wild beast.

He would catch you, dead or alive.

In a way, this was making him even more aroused than any work-girl show he had ever seen.

"I'm going to kill ya, that's a promise!"

You could hear just how furious his voice was now, and you were starting to pray you would flee successfully from him, cause you knew he would eat you alive if he could get his hands on you.

Arriving on top of the building, you caught your breath for a microsecond, before searching for a way out, gaze frantic, heart beating out of your chest. You were considering climbing to another roof, but the deep, breathless sounds of your pursuer prevented you from doing more thinking.

Arthur had reached the top of the roof too, and was already aiming his gun at you. This time he didn't even bother to say anything, shooting at you again while getting up. He was so seething you wouldn’t have been surprised to see saliva bubbling from his mouth.

By divine intervention, you dodged again, and without any thinking, you ran all the way to the edge of the roof, and jumped.

You stayed in the air for a few seconds.

You felt like time had stopped, the air brushing against your skin, your heart hanging somewhere between the sky and the total void.

You landed on a fancy and illuminated balcony a few meters away. You hurt your feet and legs with the shock, but smiled proudly to yourself. You were out of reach, he was way bigger and way heavier than you, there was no way he coul-

A gigantic mass fell on you, as Arthur had proved you wrong and jumped from the roof you had just left and was crashing directly into you.

Both of you fell on the ground and struggled for a few seconds; you tried to resist him but it was a fight already lost, this literal force of nature easily handling you like he wanted.

You ended up lying on your back, Arthur sitting on you, towering over you with all his might, quickly grabbing your wrists to prevent you from fighting, his legs parted around your hips stopping you from escaping. You were trapped.

"You're a pain in the ass girl, you know that?!" He shouted at you, breathless, raging mad. You were both panting, sweating heavily. His face was entirely red, and your cheeks even more crimson.

You both looked at each other, eyes locked, and you stayed silent. The dark creature prowling under the thin floe had returned and it was getting bigger, stronger, out of control with each passing second. There was something extremely erotic in the way he was almost lying on top of you, both of you out of breath, sweaty, and burning red, both your hearts beating at full speed in the same erratic rhythm.

Just like before at the reception, you knew he could feel it too. You knew it from the dark gaze he was looking at you with, the shady swirls of the murky leviathan reflecting in the depths of his pupils, from the deepest well of his urges, forbidden territory to which no man ever had access.

A simple touch of his hand, that's all it took.

He put both of your hands into a single one of his, using his other one to pull up your dress, fingers roaming on your thigh.

You couldn't hold it anymore, you bent toward him and slammed your lips against his in the most powerful and decadent kiss you had ever shared with someone, almost biting him.

The moment you did, Arthur's mind exploded, and every poor drop of restrain he had evaporated as quickly as if it was on the Sun's surface. The beast had won, finally shattering the weak layer of ice into a million pieces; your two souls blending in what could have felt like a fevered dream.

The grunt he let out onto your kiss was animalistic, and the tension in his body just as powerful as a waterfall with a brutal, unstoppable current. The hand that was holding your wrist let go of it and slipped under your head, fingers in your hair, as his tongue licked against your lips, searching for a way in. You let him in, eagerly, wondering if he would have forced the way if you didn’t.

He tasted strong, as if to match his whole being, a powerful flavor of tobacco, merged with a faint trace of sweetness and bitterness from the champagne he had drank. Like if you were smoking the finest and strongest of cigars. It made you love it even more.

Abandoning all your restraints too, your hands wrapped around his neck and your hips started pushing up against his, even if you couldn't move much, his two muscular thighs keeping you grounded to the balcony's paved floor. It felt so cold against your back, contrasting with the heat Arthur was burning with, consuming, devastating, raging.

He growled again when he felt your movement under him. He needed more of you, right now. This whole seduction game, the adrenaline rose by the chase, your bold charming attitude, your insanely insolent beauty, it was making him insane. He roughly ripped off his bowtie with one hand, needing some air; it felt like you two were under the desert’s scorching sun, stifling, dazing.

The right hand he had on your thigh traveled even higher under your dress, devouring every inch of flesh it could, and his appetite was only getting worse the more he discovered you. He smoothly moved his legs from around yours to put himself between them, and you instantly, almost from instinct, hooked them around his hips.

The sudden contact of your blazing core against his equally hot bulge made you sigh in pleasure, and he loved it. Breaking your kiss for the first time since you had initiated it, he pulled back to look at you, his deep gaze devouring you, undressing you just by its stare.

“What’s your real name?” He asked you, voice hoarser than ever, demanding it from you.

You told him your name, limbs feeling like mush under his intense eyes. He repeated it quietly, like a prayer he would recite on his own. You felt less and less like the panther you thought you were, and more and more like he was the predator alone. In a shaking tone, you questioned back to know his full, real name, needing to know what words you’d have to whisper in gratitude when he would finally take what he wanted from you. To whisper, or shout to the Heavens.

“Arthur Morgan.” He let out, his lips quickly returning to their current addiction, your skin. The way they were attacking your neck didn’t have an ounce of control now, his mouth opening widely to almost take a whole bite of your flesh there, letting kisses everywhere it could.

“Tell me if you don’t want this.” He added against your skin, between two greedy open-mouth kisses.

A way to escape. The predator stilling, letting a way out. But you didn't wanted it. Not at all. Not now that he had surrendered to you, trusting you with the intimacy of his real name, that would be stuck in your mind for God knows how long.

“I want it.” You asserted, voice almost cracking with the weight of your need.

He moaned a relieved sound in answer, his nose exhaling some air that tickled your neck.

You weren’t even sure he could stop himself if you had said no. He was consuming you, and he felt completely drunk, as if you were coated with a powerful whiskey. Strong alcohol that his tongue was now licking all the way from your shoulder, up to your ear.

You moaned, the feeling of his hungriness so good and perfect on you.

"Gonna take care of ya now." He growled in a rumbling whisper, making your legs feel weak. Another one of his promises, but this one was going to give you salvation, and you were thanking him for keeping it.

The bold hand he had under your dress took another step towards insanity by landing on your undergarments, his thick fingers searching for a way in. You were trembling with anticipation. You couldn't even register the fact that you were really doing this, right now, with a complete stranger you had met only a few hours ago, and who wanted to kill you minutes before, on the balcony of what looked like a habited place.

The obscenity, the depravation, the boldness of it was only matched by his relentless thirst for you.

His fingers had finally pulled your underwear to the side, and you sighed seeing him on top of you, eyes drawn to your bare pussy, carnal features empathized by the obscurity of the night. The tip of his fingers traveled amongst your folds, wolves into the forest, a territory they were now claiming as theirs.

You almost begged for him, for the wolves to eat you up all and let nothing behind them, please Arthur, and he offered you this damnation, the desperate call of his name igniting another fire in his already infernal mind. A single, calloused finger pushed into your folds, making you spread your legs even more to grant it better access. It was stretching you pleasantly, his skin rough and firm inside. You started letting out sweet, quiet moans, showing him just how much you were enjoying this.

Your two hands now gripping his back, holding on for something, anything, his dark jacket suddenly feeling way too smooth to grab onto; you were wondering how touching his naked back could feel.

Arthur was doing everything in his power not to burst once more, grunting in response to your loving sound. Slowly, he pushed another one, thriving in how wet and hot your cunt felt around his fingers, craving for the moment he would finally be able to feel this downright perfection around his cock. He felt like he was ruining you, throwing you to these wolves, and you were thanking him for it.

For now, he focused on you, blue eyes glued on your face when he started curling his digits inside of you, searching for this so special, so delightful spot within your walls. He was observant, noticing every sound you were making, every muscle tensing, to know if it was the place you liked that he was brushing right now. Wanting it to be the place you liked most.

By adding his thumb on your clit and pushing a little deeper his index and middle finger in your desperate pussy, he realized he finally had found the Graill as your back arched against the ground, your own hands gripping harder on him, eyes shutting in pure pleasure.

"Oh, God! Yes, right there..." You rewarded him, voice high-pitched and filled with delight, a tingling sensation spreading on your legs and shoulders.

He exhaled deeply, your words making his own member gorging, pressing against the fabric of his suit that felt too small to contain him. He started pushing in and out, pulling a whine out of your throat with every movement, as the thick tip of his fingers rubbed against your sweet spot every time, wolves once again in a world of sweetness and honey, lapping your delight, feasting on your pleasure.

“Told ya I would make this pretty mouth behave…” He said cockily after one of your moans. He was enjoying this all too much, finally feeling in control again, being the one and only responsible for your ecstasy.

The distance between his mouth and you seemed to be unacceptable for him as he had succumbed once more to his needs, his lips finding your skin again, tongue tasting, teasing your chest this time, everywhere he could on the cleavage he had desired since the first time he had laid eyes on you tonight. Bent over to you, looking like a curved beast feasting on its prey.

You were feeling your pleasure building, Arthur’s face hungrily searching for one of your nipples under the neckline of your dress, and sucking it once he had finally found it. His teeth and nose had pulled your dress, freeing your entire left breast, bare, defenseless in front of him.

Maybe he was the wolf himself. He sure looked like it, his face a maw fed by your soft flesh.

Every nerve of your pussy screamed for deliverance, this familiar sensation taking form in your lower stomach. Your moans were becoming even more high-pitched, breathless, almost obscene, much to the outlaw's delight.

You had thought of him before being a terribly efficient and multi-functional weapon. You couldn’t have known just how right you had been, your hardening nipple still chewed by his mouth while his right hand was sending you to your edge, thumb skillfully circling on your clit faster and faster, the two other fingers tearing apart your sweet spot, in and out, in and out, again and again, until…

“A-Arthur, don’t stop, please!” Your voice slit the night open, tone pleading as if you were begging for your life.

“I won’t girl, it’s all okay… Give it t’me…” He encouraged you, even his breath feeling rough against the skin of your chest before he sucked hard on the skin of one of your breasts, accompanying you to your salvation.

It was enough to send you over your limit, your pussy clenching, throbbing, entirely consumed. You moaned so loudly it could have turned into a scream, hips jerking against his palm, his other hand quickly grabbing your hip to steady you and carry you through it as his fingers were dragging every last drop of your pleasure out of you.

“Yeahhh, that’s it gorgeous, just like that…”

He was frowning, the sinful sensations of your wet cunt coating his fingers in a warm slick and tensing around them making his eyebrow and jaw just as tensed, his face just a hint of how fucking riled up he was because of it.

Your head was still spinning and your breath uneven when he finally pulled his digits out of your walls, the fresh air replacing them. Lost in your haze, you weren't capable of doing anything else but looking at him through lidded, heavy eyes.

He was absolutely beautiful, even more than at the start of the night. His true nature out at last, his white fancy shirt disheveled now that he had removed his bowtie and soaked from efforts. Cheeks and throat as red as a sanguine sunset. Pearls of sweat sparkling on his burning skin with the Ocean of street lights of St Denis, reminding you of a night sky, making his sandy hair stick to his forehead in the hottest way possible.

You didn't knew how could all this had escalated so quickly, but at that moment, you felt like this man before you was your whole universe, his deep ultramarine eyes completing the stellar work of art he was, shining, shimmering, more than any star in the sky, as if the Gods had capture the entire Milky Way and imprisoned it in his being.

Arthur had ultimately pulled his cock out of his black suit pants, only piece of flesh out of his clothes, and your thoughts were immediately contradicted; there was no way any virtuous God could have made a man so depraved. He was the work of the Other Side, Lust and Temptation personified. King of the wolves, he could have had all the Hounds of Hell kneeling before him.

He pumped himself a few times, unable to resist the call his member had been screaming for hours, reinforced by the way his fingers had tasted your wet cavern. Some precum had already leaked from his big pinkish head when he was fingering you and was now glistening in the night, making you think about the stars again. Your breath got caught at this sight and you couldn't stop yourself from letting out a praise.

"Perfect..." You simply stated in a whisper, eyes glued to his throbbing, veiny member, relieved he had already pulled an orgasm out of you because there was no way he could have fit in you otherwise. Your eyes followed the dark path of his hair, from the glimpse you had on his chest between the open collar of his shirt, all the way down to his pelvis and at the base of his shaft.

You could only imagine what it looked like without any clothes on, and you were dying to know.

"Trust me, you're the perfect one, darlin'." He asserted, firm tone leaving little to contradiction.

He positioned himself in front of your entrance.

You weren't even completely back from the world your first relief had brought you to, and he was already at your door again. But this time, Arthur couldn’t stop himself.

He had given once again, just like always. Now he wanted to take. He needed to take. The starving, depraved wolf. Slowly pushing, teasing himself, making his cock’s head sink into your dripping territory, creating wet and soggy sounds, a hardened spear into honey.

He couldn't hold back a baritone moan, the feeling was even better than what he remembered. He hadn't taken the time or allowed himself to lay with a woman in ages, and God, what a return to this primal bliss.

He slowly moved some more, his hands spreading your legs a bit wider from around his waist to allow him to penetrate you more easily. Once you had entirely enveloped him, his tip deep inside, he let out another deep throaty grunt, the feeling making it hard for him to keep his thoughts clear.

"Ahh... Shit, darlin’... So tight…"

Considering how his length was stretching you, you bet he felt your pussy tight. The first word that came into your mind was “complete”. So complete with his huge cock inside of you; you felt like you could have died happily like this. One of your hands slipped from the top of his back to the lower part of it, just above his ass, pressing there, showing him just how much you wanted him to move, to let go.

Arthur didn't need much more as he pulled back slowly only to snap his hips back against yours, his cock pushing again all the way through your cunt in one hard single time, giving you another wave of pleasure as you both moaned together, unable to resist the intense sensation he was creating for both of you.

Hearing you whine, finally feeling your perfectly tight and warm pussy around him, it was making him lose all sense of restraint, and as your other hand ran through his hair, your angelic voice whispering his name as if he was your Lord and savior, he lost it.

He started to pull in and out of you faster, harder, your bodies colliding in a delicious way, obscene noises echoing through the silence of the darkness. His increase in pace made your body scream in pleasure and you buried your face into the crook of his neck under the collar of his shirt, biting his skin there.

It made him grunt loudly, and one of his hands roamed from your hips to your rear, grabbing a fistful of your ass in an instinctive response. His other hand was on the ground next to you, keeping him from crushing you against it. It made your head blank with pleasure.

"Shit, Arthur! M-more!" You begged, feeling like you could die if he stopped, your voice turning into high squeals.

"Anhh- God... More? Don’t worry girl, I'll g-give you more...-Mmh!"

His voice was heavy with pleasure, words cut off by moans and grunts you were delighted to hear, the most unholy and arousing music you had ever had the honor to listen to.

True to his words, he obliged, hips thrusting endlessly, member empaling you with each move. You could feel the flesh of his pelvis against yours with how deep he dived into you, and around it the stiffness of his suit, rubbing again the breast he had pulled out of your dress before, nipple sensitive after his previous treatment.

If what was between you was once a frozen lake, it had now turned into an Ocean of lava, magma exploding, engulfing both of you in the most burning and devastating passion you'd ever experienced, a volcanic explosion of desires.

The hand he had on your asscheek reluctantly let go of it, but you ended up thanking him for it, cause he was now using it to put your left leg above his shoulder, grabbing under your knee, allowing him to fuck you in an even better angle than before. He was ruining you once again, but this time felt like the pack of starving enraged wolves had taken him with you to consume him entirely.

You leaned against the floor, back of your head feeling the paved coldness, only hint that everything was actually real. Arthur's eyes locked with yours as he kept on fucking you hard and fast, this intimate contact making his member twitch.

You felt so goddamn good around him, and looked so goddamn gorgeous like this, your cheeky grin long gone, replaced by a delightful frown of pleasure, mouth open in a quiet scream. Arthur felt his peak coming dangerously close, but his pace hadn't slowed, his fat cock thrusting in and out of you. In and out, like a furious, sacred metronome. In an out, like a blessed psalm you'd both be reciting together.

“Come on girl, I know you have another, -Damn it!-, another one in ya. Give it to me, come on, jus’ for me…”

Words and voice drowned in a flood of pleasure and curses, of deep grunts and growls, his possessiveness sending you over the edge once again, your inside closing its trap around him, squeezing just how he needed to.

His eyes shut close, eyebrows furrowing in utter pleasure as he sank so hard and deeply you could have felt him splitting your guts in half, his dick throbbing and harder than ever. It reached a spot so deep and good inside of you, burning it, your pleasure bursting as you felt your orgasm coming for the second time.

"A-Arthur!" You cried out as you came around him, creaming him, walls clenching in a delicious sensation that made him reach the stars.

"God, damn it!" He shouted, voice deeper and rougher on the curse word before quickly removing himself from you in a flash of lucidity, finishing messily, cum spilling from his red sensitive member in white spurts that ended up right on your belly as a feral, powerful growl escaped his chest and his head tilted backward, letting you see his throat covered in sweat and veins.

For a moment, both of you had turned into beasts, shattered all the limits, broke all the shackles, diminishing you into your more primitive instincts. The Wolves of Lust had devoured your being into the very last delicious bone.

And that’s how you felt. Boneless.

Now, stillness. A cold breeze enveloped the pair of you, the only sounds now being the distant agitation of the city and your pantless breaths. He slowly brought his chin back down and opened his eyes, mesmerized by the sight of you returning from the realm of pure pleasure he had provided for you for the second time.

He felt powerful. He felt good. Better than he had for months, finally satisfied. Like a God, a King. King of all the Wolves, Cerberus, the only guardian of your unholy realm.

He wanted to do this again with you, as soon as possible.

He carefully put his softening dick back in its clothed cage, fingers fumbling with the buttons of his pants as he felt completely spent, his hands shaking slightly. He wanted to help you get cleaned up, but you had already brushed what you could of his release off your dress.

It would probably leave stains on your clothing nevertheless.

A twisted, dark part of him, the part that came from the same pit as the dark creature and the Wolves, felt almost aroused and proud at the thought you would keep an imprint of him on it. This part was relishing noticing the big ruby mark it had left on your breast as you were putting it back under your neckline; he grinned to himself knowing it would make your memories of him more difficult to forget.

He didn't want you to forget.

He slowly got up, offering you his hand to help you stand. You quickly put back your dress in its usual state, and wiped the sweat off your forehead. A silence settled between you two, thousands of questions floating in the air, but none of you ready to ask them out loud yet.

Finally, as you started shivering, only realizing now how cold this night was without Arthur's burning hot body on top of you, he spoke, voice even hoarser from having pushed on it too much, accent making every world sound heavy when they fell from his mouth.

"When can I see you again?" More than a demand, a promise. An order even. Cerberus needs his territory.

You already knew he kept them; his promises. Except for the one he had made to kill you. But in a way, he did, because you felt like you wouldn’t be able to ever feel so alive again without him.

Like a condemnation.

"You won't."

Certainty in your voice. But he didn't mind it. He had already broken you before.

"Oh, but I think I will, darlin'." Was all he said before stepping over the fence of the balcony, ready to jump off it. Before doing it, he pulled something out of his jacket and waved it at you.

The fucking papers.

A lightning of understanding and panic struck you; what you had thought was a lustful touch on your thigh, the one that had set everything on fire between the both of you, that had unleashed the Wolves, was in reality his sneaky hand retrieving the document from your hidden pocket.

Shit!

He gave you his cocky grin, blue gaze sparkling with mischief, greeting you with a two finger’s salute then jumped, disappearing in the night, away from you once again. You could have gone after him, as much as your weak and spent body would have allowed you to, but somehow, after all that he had done to you tonight, you felt like he had well deserved those damned letters.

tagging: @a-court-of-valkyries credits: Arthur's pic is not mine, belongs to fv8tt on Pinterest. Dividers and little moths doodle by me.

I reall hope you liked this one! I'm thinking about writing another part where the reader could confront Arthur again... Tell me if you'd like that! -Pine 🌱

#arthur morgan #rdr2 #red dead redemption 2 #arthur morgan x reader #arthur morgan x female reader #rdr2 arthur #arthur morgan x you #arthur morgan fanfiction #arthur morgan smut #arthur morgan rdr2 #rdr2 fanfiction #pinefic #arthur morgan fanfic

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tan1shere · 6 days ago

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Passion Painting

Billie Eilish x female reader !

A/n: Was watching my show when I got a little inspired by an episode :D kinda quoted a line from it too because it was fitting. I'll make it bold so you guys know ! - I literally need this woman rn (or even a dom in my asks that'll be great too.)

Summary: you get a gift so you and Billie spice things up a bit ;)

Warnings: smut ! Scissoring 🥰 bills being a bit rough 😫 (i personally love how this turned out)

Tags: @trulyy-yourzz @eilishslut @brat-at-the-disco @iluvapplesxh @chrissv4mp @n0vabug

masterlist

The door opens, hearing keys jingle. Billie was finally home and you had missed her all day. But she doesn't come empty handed. You had just come into the room, greeting her. "Hey baby, what's that?" She sets it down. "Well, it's an early Christmas gift from Claudia. She said we can open it whenever? Whatever that means." You tilt your head. "Do we open it now?" She takes her shoes off, looking at you. "I mean if you want to, she didn't say otherwise. So I'd say its fine." She smiles at you, going over to give you a kiss.

"Good day?" - "It was ok, bit slow work wise but apart from that it was good." You say, going to pick up the box wrapped with festive paper. Bringing it over to the dining table. "How's Finn and Claudia? Did you get much done today?" She nods. "They're good, and yeah a little bit thank goodness. Glad to be home, missed you." You go to kiss her again. "I missed you. Right lets see what we have here." You say, ripping the thin material. Reading the box outloud.

Confusion strikes you. "What is it?" Billie asks. You turn it around so she can see, reading out the words to her. "Passion Painting Erotic Art Kit." She makes a face of realization. "So that's why she said to do it at night time and maybe after a date. I was so confused." You look at her. "You wanna do it?" She thinks for a moment, smirking to herself. "What? Slather you in paint and fuck you? Without a doubt babe." You grin widely. "Sounds like a plan then."

Giggles echoed though the house as you open the front door and speed over to the kit. Billie close behind. "I've actually been thinking about this all day." You admit. "Oh yeah?" She comes close to you. "Sitting in your desk at work, clenching your thighs as I smear paint all over your body. Over your curves." Your faces were close to one another, inches away. You bite your lip, averting your eyes to look at hers. They were natural apart from a little liner making them look plump and inviting. You lean in to kiss her but she pulls back.

Causing an annoyed groan to leave you. "Billie." You whine. She chuckles. That fucking chuckle. It was menacing. "Why don't we make this a little challenge." Your head tilts with intrigue. "I'm listening." She goes to unbox it, waiting a moment before she speaks again. "Let's see how long we can go without kissing one another." - "What-?" She turns around. "Don't think you can?" You think for a second. "Fine, let's see who looses." She smirks. "I think we both know who that's going to be." Your eyes roll. "Yeah yeah." But her hand grabs your jaw.

"Such an attitude for someone whos about to get fucked on the floor." Your throat closes up finding breathing to be the last thing on your mind currently. You both spread the canvas out. But in reality, you're going to be the canvas spread out at the end of the night. She'd make sure of it. You pick up the paints. Gold and blue. "Which?" She looks at them. "Hmm blue." You hand her the blue. "Right well I better get out of this." You began, back facing her. Slightly bent over as you stand back up. She smirks to herself grabbing the zip at the top of your dress. And swiftly pulling it down.

You gasp as the air hits your nipples. Since the dress had no straps you went against wearing a bra. Now standing almost fully naked in your kitchen, you two had moved some furniture around so you'd have the right space. "Oops, well I mean now all you need to take off is that tiny. Tiny. Pair of underwear." You had to process how fast she was with the dress you almost didn't register her hands pulling the thin material of your underwear off. It was only then when you realized how cool everything got. A shiver running down your spine. You wanted to kiss that smirk right off her face.

But you couldn't, you had to remember the game. "Your turn." Her smirk stays, grabbing her shirt from the back with one hand, lifting it off her head. Hair becoming messy. She takes off her pants next because she too, didn't put a bra on. There was no need. But you definitely weren't complaining. Your eyes stare for a moment. Maybe if you focused on that and not her really, inviting lips you'd be fine. But God were you wrong. You just wanted to grab her and kiss her. You both stand fully naked infront of one another.

Your nerves getting the better of you as she stalks closer to you. The lid pops off the paint. As she hands you the blue one. "We have to put it on one another." But her words went out one ear and out the other. "Hey." She says getting your attention. "Focus baby." Your eyes meet hers, handing her the gold. There was still some plastic on it so she brings it up to her mouth, getting ahold of it and ripping it off. All while keeping intense eye contact. You were going to be dripping soon. And not with paint. Her lips come to the cap, popping that off and out of her mouth. She squeezes a good amount into her hand. "You're going to be so gold you'll look like one of my Oscar's."

You gulp back saliva, you were almost drooling. Even more so when her hand makes contact with your skin. The paint was a little cold, but her burning hands soon get rid of that. Your body starts to become hot. Nerves coming back more prominent. She rubs it all over your chest, moving down to your tits, having it around most but leaving your nipples free. She had plans. Her movements were incredibly slow, making you more needy. She made sure she got your whole body, minus the places she needed access to. Standing back and letting you take over on hers.

Your shakey hand comes in contact with her neck. "Nervous?" You shake your head. "That's not really an answer huh?" You couldn't look at her, you just couldn't. You were close to giving into everything how was she so God damn calm? Your mind races as you come to her breats, you were hesitant but eager to touch them. "Why so Nervous huh? It's as if you haven't touched them before, when we both know that's not true." She was getting you to break, to give up on the game. "You're making this harder.." You whisper out. "Is that so? Darn, I didn't even realize." You pout slightly. "Can't go on?"

You think for a second, shaking your head. "Im fine." You say as your hands move over the rest of her body. "So shy, sweetheart." You swallow. "N-no I'm not." Her brow raises. "Don't lie." But she softly grabs your hand, moving them over her body. "See like that, not hard is it?" You whimper. "You're making it hard Bills." Your eyes look at her with a pleading glint. "Shame." Her eyes look down at your body. "Think its time we have our fun." She says, grabbing your shoulders and pushing you down on the paper. Letting her hands move to your breasts. She had the left a part of your neck blank, bringing her lips to it and kissing.

"Billie.." You breathe out, but she moves her hands and grabs your ass tightly. "Uh uh, say it correct." Your head spins. "Mommy." - "Good girl." Your eyes shut. Trying so hard to resist the urge to kiss her. "Mommy please." You say, grabbing her arms and moving them down to her waist as she begins to move her cunt on your own. Your first moan of the night slips out. "What? Are you all sad you can't kiss me darling girl? You agreed to the challenge no?" You zip it. Hating that you did agree to it, you didn't care anymore. You go to switch positions getting ontop.

"Please let me kiss you please." Her hands rest on your lower back as you desperately move your pussy on hers. "Please Mommy, need it so bad." She smirks. "I can see angel. You've never done that before I guess you truly mean it." You pout again at her, she was playing with you and it was driving you mental. Moving down to attatch your lips to her own. But she serves, loving the little frustrated whines you let out. "You're so mean." Her hand instantly wraps around your throat and in the blink of and eye she was back ontop.

"What was that princess?" Her grip tightens making your words float away. "Hm??" You try to talk but it's no use. "Exactly what I thought." Her hand grips your thigh, hoisting it up to dangle on her shoulder. Her hand remains around your throat while the other is on the paper, close to your head and surely leaving a handprint on the almost covered paper. Your body's making art. Surely a night to remember. Her movements become harsh making your mind race, your mouth hangs open at the feeling of both of your wetness together. She watches your eyes roll back, and slowly seeing your lids drooping.

"there you go, fall into subspace that's it. You beautiful being." You had no thought other than her, the way she was fucking against you. Absolutely no words left. Her hand stays firmly around your throat. Your bodys soon come close together. Your breasts touching, nipples grazing one another and that was it. That was all it took for you two to gush against the other. Her lips come crashing down onto your own, loosening her grip to hear your sinful moans travel into her mouth. She groans as she rides out both of your orgasmns. Flopping on you to catch her breath. "Wow." You say. "Wow indeed."

You had a nice soothing shower together, getting comfortable in your bed. Snuggling up close. Until you grab your phone. "What're you doing?" She asks. "Thanking that amazing woman for even thinking of this for us." She smiles, letting out a laugh. "Thank her for me too." You then smile to yourself. "You do know you lost your own game right?"

"A wins a win when you get to fuck your girlfriend and showcase it on a wall for everyone to see and know that you're all. Mine."

#billie eilish #billie elish icons #billie ellish lyrics #billie eilish imagine #billie #billie eilish smut #billie eilish fanfiction #billie eilish x reader #billie eilish fandom #billie elish moodboard #billie eilish x reader smut #billie eilish x y/n #billie eilish x you

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ginnsbaker · 8 months ago

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fic: if i bleed (you'll be the last to know) (6/?)

Part summary: "You like Leigh, and that should be that. It shouldn't stop your world from turning, but it does."

Pairing: Leigh Shaw x Fem!Reader | Word count for this part: 5.520 | Warnings/Tags Unrequited feelings and pining | Author's Note: Thank you so much for the warm reception to this story :) I can't promise that this is the last bump in the road.

“Thanks for meeting me.”

You came in early, already nursing a Mai Tai, having decided that facing this conversation sober wasn’t an option. The alcohol doesn’t make the situation any less twisted, but it dulls the edge of frustration just enough to keep you seated.

“Let’s get right to it,” you start, not bothering with pleasantries as you take another swig. “Danny.”

He winces slightly at you calling him by his real name, a telling sign of guilt or maybe just discomfort. It’s hard to tell. “Yeah, about that—”

You're not here for the runaround. Hence, the Mai Tai and the vodka that came before it.

“Look, Nick, or Danny, or whoever you are today. I just need some answers—”

“And I’ll give them to you if you promise me one thing.”

You raise an eyebrow, utterly flabbergasted by his nerve. “I'm not here to make any deals,” you state flatly. “I'm here for answers that I believe Matt owes me. And since he’s dead,” you say, not shying away from stating the grim reality in his face, “and you're in on Matt's little game, you owe me too.”

Danny looks like he doesn't want to challenge you on that; in fact, he looks downright worried.

“Please,” he implores. “This is important to me.”

Your eyes narrow in suspicion. Why is he suddenly acting like a dog with its tail tucked between his quivering legs?

“Okay, what is it?” you ask, signaling the bartender for another drink. Danny orders a drink for himself—a shot of whiskey. That's when you realize things are likely to get even crazier for you before they start to improve.

“It’s Leigh,” Danny says, and something in the way he mentions her name lets you know he's sincere about how important this is to him. “She doesn't know the half of it. She doesn't know I’m Nick, or that I helped Matt to... to be with you.”

You blink several times, rapidly, trying to clear the little haze in your head because you can’t believe what you’re hearing. He's asking you to keep a secret.

After he lied to you.

“And what, if I tell her you pretended to be someone else and helped her husband cheat on her, then what? She's—” you stop mid-sentence, the pieces suddenly clicking together in your mind. Danny doesn't want you to rat him out for being Nick, about his direct involvement in Matt's cheating, because he's… with Leigh?

They’re together?

As if he's tuned into your thoughts, Danny confirms your hunch. “I love Leigh. I think I always have. And if you tell her this, it's going to be the end of us.”

The first thing you feel is this urge to be all possessive about Leigh, coalesced with a sour taste in your mouth knowing someone else got there first. Except, you know Leigh would never look at you like that. So, it embitters you even more admitting you shouldn't be feeling this way at all.

You take a long sip of your newly arrived drink, buying time to think. Telling Leigh is supposedly the right thing to do, but it could also destroy whatever happiness she's found with Danny.

But is she though? Is she happy with Danny?

“So let me get this straight,” you say, the alcohol lending you a blunt courage. “You orchestrated this whole scenario—Matt meeting someone else—just so you could break him and Leigh up? You love her so much you'd do that to your friend?”

Danny looks even more defeated—as he should when he reveals, “Matt's not just some friend. He's my brother.”

You're midway through a sip of water when the words hit you, and you nearly choke on it, barely stopping yourself from spitting the water out.

“You’re despicable! And to think that—”

“But I didn’t orchestrate anything, okay? Do you think I’m some kind of god, picking you randomly to throw at Matt? You guys really met and fell for each other by chance. I had nothing to do with both of your feelings.”

You scoff, incredulous. There's no way you're going to believe anything he says next. You just can't.

“So, your big plan was what? Just to hang back and hope to catch Leigh on the rebound?” you say defiantly.

The look he gives you, and the fact that he’s not outright denying it—

“Look,” he drones, raising a hand as if to temper your barrage of questions. “There was no plan, all right? Matt met you, and he just couldn't shake you off his mind. It was all him. And yeah, it was merely chance he saw you again, going into your clinic that afternoon. He told me about it, and I went with him to talk to you because he asked me to. I was just as thrown when he introduced me as ‘Nick’.”

You're skeptical, to say the least. “Why would Matt do that? Why go through all that trouble?”

Danny shrugs. “I’m not sure, but I went along with it. Probably because deep down, Matt knew what he was doing wasn’t right. Maybe he felt guilty, or maybe he wanted to be someone else in that moment, someone who wasn't Matt Greer with a brother named Danny, who was at his wedding to Leigh Shaw. I don’t know. I mean, I know my brother, but that doesn’t mean I understand all his reasons.”

A sick part of you can't help but feel less sorry about Matt's demise. It's a disgusting thought, harboring anything less than sympathy for someone who's gone, yet you can’t feel anything but enmity for being duped. Not just by one, but two people who played you for a fool.

“God, what a mess,” you mutter, shaking your head. No amount of alcohol could’ve prepared you for this.

And then another thought occurs to you.

“You were the one who told Leigh about me and Matt, weren't you?”

Danny doesn't respond immediately, his gaze dropping to his lap.

“And you did it... to get Leigh for yourself. To make her hate Matt, hoping she'd turn to you,” you piece it together, one after another.

“No,” he counters quickly. You smirk into your cocktail, as if you've just heard the punchline of a joke.

Danny looks up, his dark eyes earnest, almost pleading for you to understand. “I didn't tell Leigh about you and Matt because I wanted to ‘have’ her. That... that wasn't it. That thought came much later, and honestly, only after Leigh started... showing interest in me. I never pursued her, not after Matt died. I kept my distance, respected her grief. I loved her quietly, without ever letting on.”

You look away, knowing a thing or two about loving someone in the shadows.

“I told Leigh because if she was going to mourn Matt, she deserved to know the full truth about who she was mourning. Matt wasn't just the loving husband she thought he was, and she had the right to know that,” he finishes.

You shake your head, dismissing his attempt to appear noble by betraying his own brother and tarnishing Leigh's memory of him. It just doesn't sit right to you, using someone's absence to get ahead. Matt's not here to tell his side, to explain things. His only defense being crumbs of himself he left behind like those texts Leigh stumbled upon on Danny's phone.

With a tad of vendetta in your words, you turn Danny’s reasoning against him.

“Then Leigh deserves to know about you too. About how you were a willing participant in Matt’s deception and helped him pull one over on her,” you tell him, not missing the shock that flickers across his face. “She deserves the truth if she’s going to be with you. Not just your cleaned-up version where you come out looking like the good guy.”

Danny's face goes a shade paler, and for a second, he looks like he's about to argue, but then nothing. He just sits there, kind of deflated, like he's finally realizing the predicament he's in isn't just going to disappear.

You've had enough of his excuses and signal the bartender for the bill. As you pull out your wallet, Danny finds a bit of his backbone again.

“It'll be your word against mine,” he laments, twirling the ice in his glass leisurely. “Me and Leigh, we've known each other for years. Who do you think she'll believe? Because from what I understand, Leigh caught you in a lie too. She doesn't trust you. So good luck trying to ruin our happiness just because you can.”

His challenge makes you bristle, but you square your shoulders, meeting his gaze dead-on. “Do you think Leigh loved Matt?” you ask.

Danny looks momentarily unsettled by your question, as if it's the last thing he expected from you. But then, without hesitation, he answers, “Yes.”

“Yeah, she would've stuck by Matt, even knowing everything,” Danny continues. “She'd convince him they could start over. Leigh loved... loves Matt so much,” he corrects himself, a bitter smile on his lips as he admits, “I envied my brother for that.”

The bartender slides the bill over, and you hand off your credit card without even a second look, thoroughly pleased with how Danny’s response has played right into your hands. Once you’re done paying for your drinks, you turn back to Danny.

“You latched onto the idea of me and Matt right away, not knowing if I’m going to love Matt the way Leigh loved him, or even more. But you didn’t care,” you say evenly. “All you saw was an opportunity to get the woman for yourself. You’re selfish.”

Danny’s quick to defend himself this time. “You wouldn't say that if you were in my shoes,” he shoots back. “I love both of them. I wanted Matt to be happy, and he wasn't anymore, not with Leigh.”

“And you were more than happy to nudge him away from his wife, thinking that'd fix everything?” you counter sharply.

He squirms in his seat, looking like he’s run out of excuses. He can’t find the words that’ll make you see his side of things. It also dawns on you that he’ll never see your point either.

After a tense silence, he asks, “Are you going to tell Leigh?”

You stand up and let out a heavy sigh. “Honestly? I don't even know if Leigh wants anything to do with me anymore.” Just as you’re about to leave, something compels you to throw Danny a lifeline and you swivel on your heel to give him one last thing to think about.

“If this thing you have with Leigh is real, don’t let her find out about the skeletons in your closet from someone else. It's better coming from you.”

Walking away, you can’t shake off the regret of not taking your own advice, more than you’d normally like to admit.

Suzie's been on edge about how you've been acting lately. She's always on the dot with your meals, but you barely give them a glance before packing them up and handing them off to homeless people on the street who need them more. Your days have blurred into a continuous loop at the clinic, skipping breaks, and hovering around even when it's technically Foreman's shift to take the lead.

Today, Suzie's hit her limit watching you mope and brood in your office's corner. Without a word of warning, she marches in with a bottle of red and two glasses. You’re startled, feeling somewhat cornered, as she locks the office door behind her. Ignoring your shock, Suzie starts pouring a generous glass of wine for you, filling it right to the brim.

“Alright, out with it,” she orders, pushing a full glass your way.

Your gaze sweeps the room, looking for a way out. “Suzie, I don’t think it’s—” Yes, you own the place. But owning it doesn't mean you're about to bend your own rules about drinking on the job.

“Let's drink it out, girlie.” She sets her own glass down, already filled, and takes a seat. Last time I saw you like this, your team lost the Superbowl. And let's be real, the only other thing that had you this down before was that Matt guy ghosting you.”

You eye the glass of wine, your mouth feeling very dry all of a sudden. “What about the patients waiting outside?”

“Foreman's on it, as long as we save him some for later. I said we would, but let's be honest, this bottle isn't really enough for two,” Suzie says, giving you a wink.

You let out a sigh, your fingers instinctively inching towards your glass, yet you stop short of actually grabbing it. You're usually the vault, not the one doing the talking. You absorb everyone else's life stories, nod sympathetically, and maybe offer advice on occasion. The only reason Suzie even caught wind of the whole Matt situation is because he made his interest too obvious—showing up at the clinic multiple times with flowers, chocolates, books, and all those little things he discovered you couldn't resist. It wasn't so much you telling her, as it was Matt's grand gestures speaking volumes, making it impossible for anyone, especially Suzie, not to notice.

Taking a deep breath, you realize maybe it's time to open up to someone, to share the absurdity of your situation with someone who might just understand—someone who, at the very least, also likes women.

“Okay, so here's the thing... I've got this weird crush,” you say, letting that sit for a moment, partly because you're still wrapping your head around it, partly because you still can’t believe it. You can't pinpoint exactly when you started tumbling down a rabbit hole from which there was no climbing back out.

“On Matt's wife.”

Suzie's reaction is as you expected—her eyes go wide, her mouth drops, and the wine glass she's holding almost slips from her grasp. “You what?” she gasps, looking at you like you've grown a second head. “How in the world do you end up falling for your ex's wife?”

You never said anything about falling. But you suppose that's how it looks, given how much you've been out of sorts ever since Leigh called you a liar.

Sitting in your car across from Leigh's house, you feel like some sort of stalker. You tell yourself this is a one-off, not a habit you're planning to develop. Though, if you don't catch her tonight, you'll likely be back here tomorrow, or the day after.

After that wine-fueled heart-to-heart with Suzie, you left the clinic with a buzz and her words echoing inside your head: Just walk up to Leigh and say you were an ass and that you're sorry. And here you are, taking her advice a bit too literally and too soon.

It's getting late, and you've been watching Leigh's front door as if it might sprout legs and run away. You're semi-drunk, definitely not in the best state for making apologies, but Suzie's pep talk has convinced you that you need to do this, and now. “This is a terrible idea,” you mumble to yourself, checking your phone again to see if, by some miracle, Leigh has responded to one of your texts. Still nothing.

Just as you're starting to question your sanity and consider driving home, you finally spot Leigh’s car turning the corner. Your heart starts doing somersaults, threatening to beat its way out of your chest as the car pulls into the driveway. But as the car parks and the door swings open, your hopeful anticipation crashes hard into disappointment. It's not Leigh stepping out onto the curb; it's Jules. So, it's a family car, and today, of all days, you didn't get the driver you were hoping for.

A headache begins to brew as you scold yourself for even showing up here. “What am I even doing?” you mutter under your breath, rubbing your temples as if that could erase the last few hours. Leigh might be at Danny's for all you know, making this stakeout even more pointless.

In those few seconds of self-berating, you're completely oblivious to Jules spotting you from the sidewalk. So, when she taps on your side of the window, you nearly jump out of your skin, hand shaking as you roll it down to face her.

“Hi,” she says simply. She’s smiling, like she knows something you don’t.

“I'm not a stalker,” you say defensively. “I'm just…” An idiot.

You weren’t aware you said the last part aloud until Jules chuckles. “Well, at least you’re an honest idiot. You waiting for Leigh?”

“I was, but... I'll just go,” you stammer, ready to make a retreat and save what little dignity you have left.

“You won't get anywhere far on those flat tires though,” Jules comments offhandedly, nodding towards the back of your car.

“Flat tires?”

You quickly unbuckle your seatbelt to check. Sure enough, when you step out and circle to the back, both of your rear tires are depressingly flat, deflated against the pavement.

“Great,” you groan, raking your fingers through your hair and tugging in frustration. “Just my luck.”

You’re not drunk enough to find the situation funny, nor sober enough to deal with flat tires.

“Maybe you should call a tow or something and wait inside the house until they get here,” Jules suggests.

“My phone’s dead,” you say in response.

“No problem, I can call them for you.”

You're chewing over the thought, when your stomach decides to join the conversation with a loud rumble.

Jules grins and adds, “Plus, I've got pizza.” The thought of waiting it out with the comfort of food suddenly makes the idea of intruding a lot less unappealing.

“Why do you even like my sister?”

You're mid-bite on your first slice when Jules launches that question out of the blue and you nearly choke on your own spit. Crumbs dust your fingers as you set the slice down, buying yourself a moment to think. It's not like you've never asked yourself the same question. It's just that the answer doesn't make any more sense to you either.

“She, uh, has a way of making an impression. Mostly, I appreciate her candor—”

“You find her bitchiness… endearing?”

You’re stunned by the way she frames it, but it also makes you smile, recognizing the blunt honesty in her words—something that apparently runs in the family. You guess Jules could say that. Leigh’s sour attitude offended you one time, and then you heard her laugh and saw her smile, and it’s as if the sun never set for you.

“Her... directness is refreshing. In a world full of people trying to sugarcoat everything, Leigh just says it like it is. And yes, it can come off a bit strong, but there's something genuine about it. Plus, she's incredibly passionate about what she believes in. She has this authenticity that’s rare to find nowadays.”

Formidable. You think of the perfect adjective to describe it a tad too late, but you keep it to yourself, thinking you’ve gushed enough about her sister.

“Is that the alcohol talking or do you like, like Leigh?”

It's one thing to harbor a secret crush, quite another to have it recognized and named by someone else, especially Leigh's family. “I don’t—”

“I thought I caught a whiff of red on your breath out there on the street. Here, drink more water,” Jules says, pouring you a tall glass. “I’d offer you a beer but we stopped having those around here because I’m seven months sober.”

“Oh. Congratulations,” you say.

“Thanks.”

She seems to have moved on from her question, getting busy on her phone a moment later, but you haven't, and it leaves you feeling spotlighted in a way you weren't prepared for. “I, um…” You're scrambling for the right terms, something to deflect but not deny. Because the more you've denied it, the more your feelings have grown.

Determined to see you continue to squirm at the kitchen bar, Jules starts talking about Leigh almost casually, as though she's discussing something as mundane as the weather.

“You know, Leigh had a girlfriend in college, before Matt, of course. So, you don't have to worry about her not being interested in girls,” she says, her eyes not leaving her phone screen.

“She did?”

By this time, you're not even sure if Jules is just pulling your leg, and you're baffled as to why she's sharing details about Leigh that Leigh herself probably wouldn't tell you outright.

“Yeah, she was totally into her, just like she was with Matt. Then, out of nowhere just tossed her aside like that,” Jules snaps her fingers, “she completely cut her off. They had been together for two years, and she didn’t shed a single tear over the breakup. So, maybe that's what you should be worrying about,” Jules says, putting her phone facedown on the table.

The pizza suddenly looks less appetizing as you stew over this. It's one thing to worry about whether Leigh could reciprocate your feelings; it's another to consider that even if she did, there’s the reality that it might not go down the way you hope it would, given the chance.

You've always been told you're too much of a dreamer to be a doctor. That became even more apparent when they saw you couldn't help but cry alongside pet owners every time a pet didn't make it or when you had to make that tough call for mercy's sake. You've been in relationships before; after all, you're twenty-eight years old. But you've always treated them like free trials, never getting too serious, especially during those times when you couldn't stay in the same zip code for more than a few weeks. Then, the moment you decide it's time to plant roots, your concept of romance skyrockets to something out of a fairy tale, something as grand as the universe conspiring to unite two souls, forever. It’s how it happened for your parents, being each other’s first loves. You figured, the same should happen for you.

You like Leigh, and that should be that. It shouldn't stop your world from turning, but it does.

“Liking Leigh is moot,” you say after some time. “It’s a bad idea from the start.”

Jules tilts her head. “Why is that?”

You let out a sigh, fiddling with the bracelet on your right wrist. “It’s just... there’s something between Leigh and Danny, right? And it doesn’t usually end up with the mistress and the wife together. Besides, Leigh hates me right now. Most obvious reason being that I stole Matt from her before he... before he was gone for good.”

Jules hums thoughtfully. “Sounds like you've been doing a lot of thinking.”

“It's all I've been able to do since I met her,” you say.

Jules glances at the slice of pizza on your plate, now cold and forgotten. “You gonna eat that?” she asks, nodding towards the lonely piece.

You shake your head, sliding the plate her way. “Good,” Jules responds with a grin. “I'll save this slice for Leigh, then.”

Your ears perk up at that. “You’re expecting her home?”

“Yeah, any minute now. She texted a bit ago saying she was on her way. Plus, she's not working too far from here today.”

“Oh? Where's she at?”

Jules is just about to answer when the front door swings open, revealing Leigh as she hurries inside, her eyes quickly finding yours. There's no mistaking it—she's seen your car. She throws you a pointed look as she heads upstairs, her message clear without saying a word. Then, she murmurs a quick, “We'll talk about this later,” to Jules, who simply snorts in response and starts tidying up the dining table.

The sound of Leigh slamming the door prompts you to rise from your chair, but it's clear you have no plan. Should you go after Leigh? It's precisely why you came here, but now, the wine's effects have faded. Your feet are getting cold.

“You're wrong, you know,” Jules drones, her back to you as she wets a towel under the sink. “About Leigh and Danny.”

“What do you mean?”

She shrugs. “I think she's with Danny as a form of revenge.”

You stare at her back, confused. “For Matt cheating on her?”

“Exactly. Matt was aware of Danny's feelings for Leigh. I knew about it, Leigh knew, and that's partially why she had such a strong dislike for him before she began to... well, you know,” Jules explains, her expression contorting slightly in distaste. “It's kind of absurd when you think about it, especially since Matt's no longer here. But Leigh holds onto her beliefs in the afterlife, so it's like she's putting on a performance for Matt's spirit or something.”

You look up at the ceiling, as if expecting to see through the hardwood floors. “And you're telling me this because...?”

“Because you've given up already,” Jules states matter-of-factly.

You're confused. “So, you don't approve of someone you've known for years, but you're okay with the idea of me, Matt's other woman, being interested in Leigh?”

Jules just shrugs again. “It's weird. Scandalous, even. Something none of us saw coming.”

(In your head, you wonder, ‘Who's ‘us’?')

“But when Leigh was hanging out with you, when you were attending her class, she wasn't with Danny much, I think,” Jules goes on. “And that’s enough for me.”

“You don’t even know me,” you argue weakly. Inside, you're kind of doing cartwheels because Jules doesn't seem to mind that you're into Leigh. Somehow, that feels like a win.

“I know Danny well enough. I've got nothing against him personally, but he somehow manages to bring out the worst in Leigh. My sister was… agreeable when you were around. She actually talked about you, even mentioned she thinks you've got gorgeous brown eyes.”

“She does?”

Jules cracks up, noticing your cheeks go pink. “Oh, absolutely. And I've got to say, seeing those eyes up close—they're kind of striking. Annoyingly so, even.”

Her tease draws a reluctant smile from you, a swarm of butterflies doing somersaults in your stomach. It's comforting to know that there's at least something about you that Leigh notices.

“I should talk to her,” you say with resolve.

“Yeah, you should,” Jules nods, her laughter settling into a warm smile. “I'm not playing Cupid or anything, but I think I like you, Y/N. Leigh could use someone like you around. Most people just back off when her less charming side shows up. When she’s intolerable. I've done it too, sometimes. But I can't really leave her hanging because, you know, she's family and I love her, so…”

Hearing Jules say those things about Leigh transforms her from someone intimidating into someone truly worth sticking around for. And if your feelings eventually lead nowhere and quietly fade over time, then at least you could be the kind of friend to her who doesn't run at the first sign of trouble.

“Jules?” you say, stopping at the foot of the staircase.

“Yeah?”

“I think I like you too.”

Approaching quietly, you've left your shoes by the stairs, the cool floor under your bare feet making you feel all the more vulnerable. Jules had given you directions to Leigh's bedroom—right at the end of the hallway. Downstairs, you hear the murmur of the TV; Jules has turned up the volume, probably more to give you and Leigh some semblance of privacy than for her own viewing pleasure.

When you reach Leigh's door, panic floods back in. You keep swallowing, but it's like the desert in your mouth won't let up. “I got this,” you mutter under your breath, trying to psych yourself up. You lean in, ear against the door, trying to pick up any sound. It's silent until you catch the ping of a laptop, followed by fingers typing away noisily. She might be at her desk, probably by the window, or maybe lying in some awkward, back-breaking position on her bed. Knowing she's awake strips away your last excuse to back down. You lift your hand, pause for a split second, then tap lightly on the door. Your heart's pounding so loud, you're half-convinced Leigh can hear it from the other side.

“Leigh?”

No answer.

“It’s me,” you say a little louder. “Can we talk?”

She doesn’t answer.

You don't want to push her into a corner, to demand her to open up when she's clearly not ready. But walking away without laying your feelings out isn't an option either. With a heavy sigh, you slide down until you're seated on the floor, back against her door. It's a small surrender, but it doesn't feel like defeat. Not yet.

“I know you can hear me,” you say, your voice steadier than you feel. “It's okay if you don't want to talk. Really, it is. But there's just something I need you to know.”

You take a deep breath before the plunge. Here we go.

“Look, you were right,” you start, whispering almost, as if you're sharing a secret with the wood of the door itself. “I did downplay what Matt and I had when you asked me. But, to be completely honest, I didn't even realize I was doing it at the time.” You run your finger along the wood grain of the door, savoring the texture against your skin. Unknown to you, Leigh is on the other side, sitting with her back pressed against the same spot, hugging her knees to her chest.

“By the time you came to me, I hadn't heard from Matt in three months. I was... sober from him, and whatever we had felt like a distant dream. I can’t recall the specifics, just that it was... nice. And maybe intense at the moment, but looking back, it was more about lust and similarities than anything.”

Slowly, you lean your head against the door, closing your eyes as you continue, “I'm not telling you this to make excuses for myself. I don't want to justify the deceit. I just... I need you to understand that any impact he had on me was gone long before you and I met.”

Opening your eyes, you glance down at the space under the door, hoping to see a shadow, a sign that Leigh is right there, listening. She is, but you miss it. The hallway is dark and there’s little to no light coming from Leigh’s bedroom.

You keep talking, now more for yourself than for her. “If there was something real between Matt and me, it wouldn't have vanished so effortlessly. And he... he likely wouldn't have just vanished either, leaving me in the dark without any explanation.”

The door flies open suddenly just as you finish your thought. With no time to react, you're sent tumbling backwards, landing with a thud on the floor. The shock of the fall momentarily stuns you, but it's the sight of Leigh, upturned, that really takes your breath away. Her eyes are hard, her expression unreadable, but it's clear she's been listening to every word.

“You could've mentioned he slept over at your place. Not having sex with him that night didn't mean it was a dismissible detail,” Leigh says, her voice thick. “Do you know how intimate it is to sleep at someone's house and not have sex? To just be there, for the sake of being there?”

You're on the ground, staring up at her. You know it now. Dressing her wounds, that was intimate. Her hand correcting your posture during yoga, that too was intimate. Sharing burgers in the car, intimate.

Whenever you do anything, or find yourself somewhere, just for the chance to be with someone—that's intimacy right there.

“I—I don’t know why I didn’t tell you,” you say. You silently promise to her that lying about your feelings for her will be the last lie you ever tell her.

“You don’t know?” Leigh sneers. “Then think!”

You push yourself into a sitting position, unsure if you should get inside her bedroom or inch back outside. In this position, you're acutely aware of the power imbalance—her standing, you on the floor. It compels you to admit some of your truth.

“I didn't want to cause you any more pain than I already have,” you say softly. “Which is funny because my very existence is likely a constant reminder of that pain.”

Something shifts in the air. You’re the first to look away and you end up just waiting for Leigh to kick you out for good. But she doesn't do what you brace for. Getting a read on her has always been like trying to catch smoke with your bare hands, and it feels like it always will be.

Slowly, Leigh extends a hand to help you up. You take it, feeling the cool dampness of her skin.

Just as she’s about to shut the door again, she stops short, locks her eyes with you, and says, “I can handle pain just fine.”

#unbetad #my writing #my fic #elizabeth olsen x reader #elizabeth olsen #leigh shaw x reader #leigh shaw x female reader #leigh shaw #sorry for your loss au #leigh shaw x you #wanda maximoff x reader #wanda maximoff x you #sorry i had to tag wanda x reader for visibility

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champagnefountains · 9 months ago

Note

So...Alastor went missing for a while after the extermination right? Would you be open to a story where the reader is taking care of Al after he gets back? Maybe still a little mad at him for vanishing, more worried about him being hurt...just the fall out that comes from not knowing if he was alive or not? Your first Lucifer story was wonderful!! You really have a solid foundation for this and I'm excited to see more from you!!

Aw, thank you so much! I'm really, really glad you enjoyed the Lucifer story! And omg, I love this idea...I live for angst so here's some more~!

ALASTOR - H.H.

A/N: They probably were able to rebuild the entire hotel in less than a day, but just to make it more dramatic, I made Alastor's disappearance two days long. Also, I'm not exactly too happy with the pacing here...so I apologise in advance ;-;

Word count: 2.8k+ words (I need to control myself...also unedited, sorta). Genre/other tags: Angst with good ending. OOC Alastor (I think?...sorry...). Warnings: Cursing. Mentions of blood. Talk about loss/death.

After the cancellation of this year’s extermination and Hell's victory against Heaven’s forces, Charlie and the team had spent the next couple of days repairing the damages caused. The team’s morale was as high as ever as they busied themselves reconstructing and making significant renovations to the hotel, their spirits brightening at the prospect of the potential influx of evil-doers to their establishment. There was no doubt that the hotel’s popularity had boomed, as there wasn’t a single soul in Hell that didn’t know about their contribution towards the annual culling.

However, there was one thing that had been plaguing your mind since the end of the bloodshed: Alastor's whereabouts. Everyone, including yourself, knew that the Radio-Demon was more than capable of looking after himself, considering his high-regarded reputation in all the Nine Circles. However, it’s been two days since the battle and there wasn’t a single trace of him anywhere. And as his significant other, it bothered you to no end. And it wasn’t like you could call him either – Alastor strictly refused to use a mobile phone or any electronic device, no matter how much you pried. He didn’t even make any attempts to reach out to you, whether it be from your own portable radio that he gifted you, or even a small note or letter. Absolutely nothing.

Currently, the hotel has just completed its final transformation with big thanks to Lucifer and Charlie's magical powers and sorcery. With your distress multiplying with every passing second, you couldn't bring yourself to be as excited as the others. You silently excused yourself from the group by the main entrance, wandering off to the furthest side of the building and turning the corner. With a trembling sigh, you leaned against the wall, covering your mouth with your hands as a sob wracks through your body.

You hadn't felt as anxious as you were, in so, so long. It must've been the build up from the months-long preparations made to fend off Heaven to now, that had you overwhelmed. Yes, there was no doubt that Alastor was powerful, but he fought Adam head on – the very first man – which you were able to only catch minor glimpses of in the midst of battle. And that was probably the last time you saw him.

You didn't want to think about the possibility of loss. Because there's no way, right? ...Right? The others were also quick to reassure you plenty of times, sensing your growing unease with each passing day. But it did little to nothing to help ease your nerves. Preoccupied in your own despair, you failed to sense an approaching figure among the shadows.

"'Cher? What are you doing, hiding all the way down here?" A static-like voice called out, causing you to stiffen, "you should be celebrating with the others! You wouldn't want to miss out on such an exciting time!" Eyes widening, you swiftly pivoted yourself to face them. Low and behold, the source of your worries stood before you, all in one piece, smiling down at you with his usual Cheshire-like grin.

"...Alastor?" You weakly called out. Your wavering tone caused the Overlord to raise a brow, mild confusion taking over him. "Yes, my dear?" He asks with a tilt of his head. But it wasn't until he took a closer look at your distressed features that his expression softened a faction. "Darling, you're upset...why are you crying?"

Despite your immense relief, you couldn't help but send him a baffled look. "Wha-Why am I crying? Are you serious, Al?" You spat back incredulously. "You've been gone for two days! Two days! And I didn't know where or-or how you were! Can’t you even imagine how I must've felt when I couldn't find you after the fight?” Alastor only blinked at your sudden outburst. “And you don't even think to tell any of us where you've gone off to! I thought...I-I thought..." Your voice died down as a sob threatened to leave your throat. "I-I thought you were gone."

"Oh, dear, don't be silly," Alastor softly chuckles, fixing his monocle, "it'll take more than those pesky, little angels to get rid of me!" His lanky legs strided towards you, his head shaking in mild amusement. He stops just before you, leaning forward to pat your head reassuringly. Sniffling, you couldn’t help but wrap your arms around his waist, burying your head into his chest. It gave you the reassurance you wanted and needed – it was proof that he was here with you, physically. However, the action unexpectedly causes Alastor to stiffen. You furrow your brows, lifting your head to send him a questioning look.

"...Al? Are you okay?" You worriedly ask, slowly unwrapping yourself to inspect him. Usually, Alastor didn't mind whether you initiated physical contact and vice versa, especially considering that you had been together for a while now. You then glanced behind him and your surroundings in caution – there didn't seem to be anyone watching either, knowing that he wasn't as fond of PDA.

As you pan your eyes towards his face, you were surprised to see a tensed expression. "N-Nothing to worry about, darling," he says through a forced smile, waving his hand dismissively before sharply pivoting himself the other direction. "Now, shall we go join the others now? They're probably wondering where we've both gone!" Nonchalant, he begins walking off with his hands crossed behind his back. That was...strange. Something was clearly wrong, you think to yourself.

"Al, wait!" You jog towards him, passing and stopping him in his tracks. "Is...is there something wrong?" You worriedly ask. "I just...I feel like you're not telling me something. I-If I made you uncomfortable, I'm sorry. I didn't mean to–"

You felt your words die in your throat as a noticeably large, wet patch began to form against his dress shirt. You let out a startled gasp. "Wha–you're‐you're bleeding!" You cry in panic, hands raising and twitching in front of you with uncertainty. His expression darkening, Alastor stubbornly shook his head, gently pushing you aside by the shoulder, "Like I said, it's nothing to worry about. It's not but a small scratch! I'll be fine, dear–"

"No, you're not fine!" You interjected, eyes blurring in tears and wavering. Your hands shook as you gawked at the growing stain on his shirt. At that, you didn't miss the way Alastor's lips twitched in presumed pain, as small beads of sweat began to form on his forehead. Gritting your teeth, you reach out to grab his wrist, preparing to pull him towards the hotel's entrance. "Come on, Al. W-We need to get you cleaned up–" A firm squeeze in your hand stopped you in your tracks as you turned back to face him, distressed.

"[Name]. I said I'll be fine," he sternly says, his voice contorting in static. Despite the sinister grin he displayed, it left you unfazed. You pinched your brows and balled your fists in frustration, staring at him in disbelief. "...What the hell is wrong with you?" You hiss at the deer-demon, "You're clearly not fine–you wouldn't be fucking bleeding right now if you were fine!"

Alastor clicked his tongue, "Darling, you're exaggerating too much, don’t you think? You don't need to fret—"

"Shut up! I-I don't give a damn who you think you are! Strong Overlord or not, I'm worried, okay?! I-I'll always be worried about you!" Angry tears began pouring from your eyes. "I was scared for my life when I didn't hear from you the past few days! I didn't know what happened to you–if you were okay or even alive! I-I couldn't even get a single blink of sleep last night, so don't fucking tell me to not worry!" Alastor's egotistical and prideful personality was not news to you and everyone else – you knew how stubborn he could be, and now was no exception. It was absolutely infuriating.

Alastor's grim expression eased at your growing distress, his stomach twisting uncomfortably as he watched you messily wipe your face. You took a brief moment to compose yourself, your breaths shaky and uneven. "Look, just–I don't want to argue right now, okay?" You hiccup, "i-if you don't want the other's seeing you like this, just...I-I don't know, teleport us inside the hotel somewhere. Just anything, so I can stitch you up properly."

Begrudgingly, Alastor manifested his microphone from thin air. He didn't have any room to argue with you here. He then softly taps the ground with the bottom of the stand twice, casting a group of black shadows from the ground. They surrounded you both in a circular-like motion, completely filling your sights with a black void. There was a brief gust of wind and it didn't take long until they dissipated, the both of you now standing in what was assumed to be your new shared room in the hotel – it was nearly identical to your previous one before the reconstruction, save for the new wallpaper.

"Remove your shirt. I'll get the kit," you immediately order as you point at the bed, gesturing for him to sit. You then disappear into the bathroom for a brief moment, grabbing the small first-aid kit under the sink before returning to the bedroom. Alastor had already sat himself down the edge of the bed, his dirty button-up and coat neatly folded on the floor, and his chest bare. You grimaced as you eyed the massive, fresh gash across his scarred chest, that was somewhat tended to with poor stitching.

You let out a disapproving sigh. "I expected your patching to be a little better than this,” you comment as you set the kit beside him, taking out some gauze and alcohol. Alastor rolls his eyes. "It's not everyday you get struck by an angelic weapon, dear," he shoots back sarcastically. There was a small stagger in your movement, your jaw clenching as a deep frown settled on your lips. So it was because of Adam that he's in this state, you sourly think. You try to not let the thought affect you too much as you begin disinfecting his wound.

While you were fixing him up, the both of you remained in complete silence. You actively chose to ignore his piercing gaze in the meantime, which practically burned through your skull as you maintained your focus solely on his wound. Your earlier frustrations didn't seem to simmer down either, deciding to keep quiet to prevent another one-sided shouting battle. As much as you loved Alastor, his lack of understanding towards your concerns vexed you to no end. Because, hypothetically speaking, what if he had actually died during his fight against Adam? If his body went missing, you were never going to find the closure you needed and were probably gonna go on with your life not knowing of his whereabouts. Your life would've been completely miserable with the constant grieving. And like Alastor smartly said, it wasn’t everyday that he’d be fighting a divine opponent, so definitive defeat wouldn’t be completely off of the table despite being quite powerful himself.

The mere thought brought fresh tears to your eyes, which you were quick to blink away. ‘No…there’s no point dwelling in the past and what-if’s,’ you reprimand yourself. Alastor’s here, after all. That's the only thing that matters right now. But regardless, you still remained upset.

After a while and now satisfied with your craft, you neatly applied a bandage around his chest and waist. "...Don't put too much pressure on it for a while," you quietly advised as you began packing the equipment away. You continued to ignore his gaze, knowing that you'd lose your composure if you were to look at him. Without sparing him a glance, you lazily chucked the kit by the bedside table and made your way towards the door. Shortly after, you left the room without another word.

You found yourself aimlessly walking on the balcony facing the bar, near the main entrance. There, you saw Charlie walking up the stairs adjacent from you, who was quick to catch your approaching form. "[Name], there you are! I was just looking for you!" She cheerily says, skipping towards you with excited steps. "Everything looks so, so amazing, can you believe it?! Oh, oh! We all saw Alastor, by the way! I told you he was going to be fine–erm, [Name]?" The Princess forced her banter to a halt upon spotting your swollen, red eyes.

"Hey, hey, what happened?" She softly asks, coming forth to rub your back. You open your mouth to speak but consciously stop to think your answer through. You knew not to speak a word of Alastor’s state at the moment, knowing it would desecrate his persona. So you decide to keep it short and vague.

"Alastor and I...we, uhm…had a small fight," you briefly explain with a tight-lipped smile. Charlie’s eyes softened in understanding. “Oh, I’m sorry. Did...do you wanna talk about it?” She kindly offers, holding your hand. You shake your head, “It’s alright, Princess. I’ll be okay in due time.” You didn’t want to dampen the overall mood and atmosphere, after all the hard work and sweat shed for this very moment. “Well, I mean, if you’re sure…” she hesitantly replies, giving you another quick look-over. “Say, how about we get you cleaned up a little and we head down and join the others? It’ll help clear your mind a little bit, yeah?”

Bless her heart, you think with a small smile. With a nod, Charlie dragged you to the nearby restroom, where you splashed your face with water and did minor touch-ups to look somewhat decent. Shortly after, you joined the others by the main lounge, who all cheered and welcomed you with open arms. All the while, your mind automatically wandered to Alastor, who you knew was dwelling somewhere within the hotel.

After a couple hours of celebration, you all decided to retire for the night, exhausted from the day's work. Charlie had sent you off with a small hug, wishing you luck as you slowly made your way back to your room. You felt your heart thump loudly against your ears as you spotted your room number in the distance, which only intensified as you reached for the knob and opened the door.

With a deep breath, you entered the room and to your surprise, you found Alastor where you had left him. However this time, he was already in his night-wear and was comfortably sitting upright and against the bed frame, legs under the covers and reading some book. He made no effort to acknowledge your presence as he hummed a random, sweet tune, licking a finger to flick a page of the novel he was supposedly engrossed in. You didn't know what would've irked you more – the fact that he wasn't addressing you right now or alternatively, if he were to go on about his day in his usual chirpy-self, and not bring up what had happened. Reciprocating his behaviour, you wordlessly went to the bathroom to do your usual night routine and changed into a comfortable set of pyjamas. When you were done, you beelined towards your side of the bed, stiffly slipping under the covers with your back facing him and pulling the covers close to your face.

The tension was dripping as the room filled with an uncomfortable silence. You unconsciously found yourself pacing your own breaths, as if you were worried that you were breathing a sound wave too loud. You also didn't move a single inch from your spot, remaining stagnant like a statue. It remained that way for a short while, unable to find a single blink of sleep or tiredness, just as you did the past couple days.

“Darling, I know you’re awake…” Alastor says, finally breaking the silence as he shuts his book with a soft thud, placing it by the bedside table. There was a brief pause, as if he was waiting for you to say something, but you didn’t. You listen intently in silent anticipation as you dug yourself further into your pillow.

“I…I wanted to apologise for my behaviour earlier. It wasn’t in my intentions to upset you,” he continues, “I didn’t mean to carelessly dismiss your concerns the way I did. I understand that you’re merely worried for me. After all, if had it been you in my place instead, I would’ve acted the same way, if not more. And I’m sorry for troubling you these past few days. It was due to my carelessness that made you disregard your own health and caused you so much distress. With that, I want to express my utmost gratitude to you for looking after me despite it all. I…I hope you can forgive me, darling.”

It was simple and straight to the point. And yet, his words struck a chord with you, causing a new onset of tears to flow and dampen the bed sheets. Alastor wasn’t one to easily admit his faults and apologise the way he did, so his words had so much of an impact on you. Though you had your own few questions to ask him, you suppose that this was enough for the time being as you didn’t want another day to go by, remaining in conflict with each other. You turn yourself to face him, sitting up and tearfully looking up at him. Silent, Alastor looked back down at you in a hopeful manner, his usual grin on his face. “O-Of course, I forgive you,” you quietly replied as you carefully hugged his side, “I-I just…I want you to look after yourself better. I-I don’t know what I’m going to do with myself if I had lost you then.”

Huffing in relief, he softly snickers into your hair, running one of his claws through its strands. “Like I said, you won’t lose me, my dear. I’ll even wreak havoc across all of Hell to get back to you,” he cheesily coos as he nuzzles his nose into your neck. You wetly chuckle at his remark, leaning into him closer. “That’s quite a huge commitment to make, Al. You promise you gonna keep your word for it?” you jokingly reply, playfully poking at his chest. Grin widening, Alastor boops your nose with a single digit, “that’s a guarantee, darling.”

#alastor x reader #hazbin hotel x reader #alastor hazbin hotel #alastor

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mydemimonde · 11 months ago

Text

'Cherry Bomb' | Michael Gavey x Reader (Part 2)

a/n: part 2 of cherry bomb is here! i want to thank you again for the likes, comments and reblogs on the first part, it really means a lot and i'm glad you liked it ♡ there will be a third part, lmk if you'd like to be tagged. enjoy!

Summary: After thanking Michael for what he did for you, you can't stop thinking about how much you desire him, how much you want him. And you always get what you want.

Words: 4000ish

Warnings: +18 (minors do not interact!), female reader, no use of y/n, not specific physical description, reader being an absolute menace!, oral sex (f receiving), fingering, handjob, lots of dirty talk, masturbation (f and m), teasing/sex in public, cum eating

And touch yourself indeed you do.

As soon as you return to your dorm you immediately lie back on your bed, hike up your skirt and pull your lace panties aside. You hiss when your fingertips graze your wet folds, sucking Michael Gavey’s dick having this effect on you.

Seeing Michael Gavey squirm under your touch and hearing him whimper and moan has this effect on you.

You rub your swollen clit with your index and middle finger, feeling your entire body on fire. You lazily lower your hand until you feel your cunt practically sucking your fingers in, your arousal making it easier for you to start pumping them in and out of you as whines and soft moans escape your lips.

Your chest heaves with your breathing, you close your eyes as you remember the feeling of Michael’s lips moving against yours, his tongue exploring your mouth frantically, his gaze on you as you lowered your body to kneel in front of him, how beautiful he sounded when your mouth wrapped around his cock, how heavy it felt in your mouth. You can’t wait until having him like that again.

You play with your tits with your other hand, feeling your nipples harden when you pinch them. You never stop thinking about Michael and his large, veiny hands. You picture him caressing your body, squeezing your breasts and maybe even choking you. His long, slender fingers inside your cunt, reaching that spot inside you that makes you see stars.

The room is filled with the wet, lewd sounds of your cunt and your curses and breathy moans. Your walls clench around your fingers, your orgasm approaching as you pump them faster, curling them to reach the most sensitive spot inside you. The heel of your palm presses against your swollen clit repeatedly, making you gasp. You reach your peak with a muffled moan, careful not to be heard.

With your eyes closed you try to catch your breath, wave after wave of pleasure running through your body. You slide your fingers out of your pussy and lick them, tasting your own arousal.

You don’t know what Michael did to you, but you want him. And you always get what you want.

The next day you don’t see Michael until lunch time. He’s sitting alone, like he always does. You sit on the chair in front of him, hoping to be noticed but he doesn’t even lift his head, too focused on finishing his salad.

You clear your throat and with a honeyed voice you say his name. “Hi there, Michael.”

You see how his eyes widen for a moment before swallowing his food hard. “H-hi.” He grabs a napkin and wipes his mouth. “I didn’t see you there, sorry.”

“It’s okay baby” the pet name you give him makes him feel goosebumps. You have your legs crossed under the table, your foot drawing circles in the air. “Are you busy today?”

“Uhm yeah I… I have to study. Have a maths quiz tomorrow” he replies as he finishes his salad and wipes his mouth again.

“Oh, but you don’t need to study, Mikey” you lean in and place one hand on top of his. His hands are significantly bigger than yours, and that awakens something inside you. “You’re so smart.” You uncross your legs and with the help of your left foot, you take your right shoe off.

Michael’s eyes widen when he feels your bare foot creeping up his leg, making its way up. “You should relax a little bit, Mikey. Loosen up, have fun.” You tilt your head as you keep moving your foot, thankful for the long tablecloth. “I have a few ideas, you know?”

He gasps when your foot presses against his crotch. “Fuck” he curses under his breath, fists clenching as he tries to compose himself. He gives you a deadly look, jaw clenched and brows furrowed. This only adds to your desire for him.

You decide to have some mercy for the poor guy, so you lower your foot and start eating your meal as if nothing happened. Michael lets out a barely audible sigh, shifting in his seat as he tries to hide his obvious erection under the tablecloth. This can’t be fucking happening.

You try to hide a smile, eating your delicious pasta with bechamel sauce while wicked ideas cross your mind.

You eat the last forkful of pasta, letting some sauce drip down the corner of your mouth. “Mmm, delicious” your soft moan catches Michael’s attention, sucking in his breath as you wipe your mouth, looking at him.

He shakes his head and stands up quickly, abandoning the hall. You chuckle and take a sip of water, already planning your next encounter with him.

Michael slams the door of his dorm and quickly gets rid of his pants, cursing when he sees the wet patch near the tip. He rests his head against the door, closing his eyes as he pumps his cock through his boxers.

“F-fuck…” he’s so painfully hard, he can explode at any moment if he doesn’t take care of it soon. His mind travels to the day before, when you were kneeling between his legs with his cock in your mouth. That night, a few hours after you left, he jerked off to the thought of you, again.

He’s done that a couple of times, he has to admit. Ever since the day he saw you for the first time, how sweetly you talked to him and how nice his name sounded from your lips. He should be ashamed of behaving like a horny teenager, but fuck it. The way you looked at him, how you talked to him, straight out of his dreams.

You’re fucking dangerous to him; he knows it, and you know it too.

He takes off his boxers, spits in his hand and immediately wraps it around his cock, whining at the contact. He wishes it’s your mouth though, warm, wet and welcoming. He wonders if that’s how your cunt would feel too, maybe tighter.

His hand works up and down, wet sounds filling the room as he remembers how wet you were from just sucking his cock, how you touched yourself while your mouth was on him. He’s not going to last long, not when he’s thinking about your moans and whimpers.

He speeds up the movement of his hand, chest heaving and gritted teeth, closer and closer to his orgasm.

He even wonders if you touched yourself like you said you would, picturing you pleasuring yourself while thinking of him is what makes him explode. He hisses out your name as he comes, hot ropes of spend coating his lower stomach, cock twitching in his palm.

Michael takes a few moments to catch his breath, looking at the mess he made. When he finally softens, he goes to the toilet and cleans himself, grabbing a new pair of clean boxers to put on. After all, he has one more lecture to end the day. Hopefully, that would keep him busy.

He can’t let anything distract him from his studies, especially not you.

With your books in hand, you enter the library. It’s almost noon, so it’s not too crowded, most of the students in their rooms, most likely.

You’re there to look for Michael, of course, also to study but mostly for Michael. The way he looked at you earlier, that menacing look on his face did nothing but turn you on. You want to unleash the beast that he probably is, you’re not stopping until Michael Gavey is in your bed.

You spot him reading and making some notes on an empty desk at the end of the library, so you take a seat on the other side of the desk.

He notices you immediately, the smell of your perfume invading his nostrils. You see him swallow hard, nodding at you when you say hi.

You open your books and start reading, actually focusing on the written words despite having Michael near you. Plus, you teased him enough earlier, poor chap had to run to his dorm to jerk off, because of course he did.

After teasing him during lunch you felt somewhat… terrible. A tiny voice in your head is constantly bothering you, telling you that what you are doing is wrong. Michael’s not like the guys you typically date or have sex with, and not only because he’s a virgin.

Everyone says Michael Gavey is an insufferable, full of himself and creepy guy, and even though you don’t know him 100%, you wouldn’t say that it's true. He can be complicated at times, but that doesn’t make him a totally awful person. He’s rather sweet when he wants to, adorable too.

You don’t want him to feel used, even though you’re not doing that. You’re just acting on your desires, and you know he craves you as well. He’s just playing hard to get. And that’s what makes him different from the rest, that’s why you want him.

Almost two hours pass by, and the library is empty except for the two of you. You look around, just in case, and close your book with a loud noise. He doesn’t even flinch, too absorbed in his reading as you make your way towards him.

“Hello Mike” he looks up from his book and takes in your appearance. He audibly gasps at the sight of you in your black skirt and black knee high socks, lips curved into a smile. He leans back in his chair when you hop on the desk in front of him, looking up at you like a deer in headlights. “How did the study session go?” You ask as you rest the palm of your hands on the surface of the table, supporting your weight as you lean back and tilt your head.

Michael presses his lips and blinks. “It went well. I’m more than ready for the quiz.”

“I knew it. I told you before, Michael, you’re really smart. I like smart guys” you lean forward again, speaking in a low and feathery voice.

You hear him gulp. “Oh, uhm, I actually have to go, so” he tries to stand up but you press your foot against his chest, forcing him to sit down. He looks at you with a dumbfounded expression.

You frown. “What are you constantly running away from me, Mike? You don’t want my company?” you stretch your leg, pushing him as he shakes his head.

“N-no, it’s just…” he licks his lips, trying to find the correct words. “You’re dangerous to me. You tempt me so much” he admits with a sigh. You smile.

“Well, baby, sometimes we just have to surrender to our desires… as I’m doing with you. I told you, Michael. You have no idea how much I want you…” your eyes never leave his face, watching as his pupils darken with lust. His eyes follow the movement of your hands, caressing your thighs as you open your legs.

“Yesterday, after you tutored me, I returned to my dorm and I touched myself, Mikey…” his eyes widen and he yelps. “I told you I would finger myself until I came, and that’s what I did, baby… I pleasured myself thinking about you… I was so wet and tight” you bite your lip as your hand creeps up your inner thigh, Michael’s breath catching in his lungs. “I’m wet right now, Michael. Would you like to see how wet you make me? Would you like to feel how tight I am?”

Michael can only nod eagerly, mouth watering at the thought of touching your pussy, his already hard cock straining against his cargo pants. When you get his confirmation, you open your legs even more, but he stops you. “Wait. We cannot… I mean, we’re in the library” he whispers, looking at you like you were a mad woman.

You giggle. “Relax, baby. We are the only ones here. No one ever comes here at this hour, right? And we’re at the very end of the library… if someone enters, we’ll hear footsteps and we’ll know.” You reassure him with a warm smile, and he can’t reject you.

“O- okay… but I… I don’t know how to…”

“Shh, I told you I would teach you, remember? And I’m sure you’ll learn really fast. Now come closer, get on your knees.” Michael quickly obeys your orders, and gets on his knees before you, face right in front of your clothed pussy. “Good boy.” You hike up your skirt, giving him a sight of your cotton pink thong.

“Shit…” he mutters when he sees the wet spot, your arousal evident.

“I know… and it’s because of you.” He lets out a soft whine, afraid that your words alone could make him cum in his pants. “Now, take off my underwear.” His hands shake when he does so, clearly nervous and excited to touch you properly. He examines your dripping pussy with his jaw dropped. You move your legs up, feet pressed against the surface of the desk, completely exposed to him.

“Fuck, you’re dripping… what should I do?” he asks with genuine intrigue, eager to learn.

"Give me your hand" you lean in to grab his hand and guide it towards your cunt, his fingers tracing your clit. “Touch me there. It’s my clit”

He marvels at how you gasp when he touches you, his fingers drawing gentle circles over your bud. “Is this okay?” When you nod he continues touching you with his index finger, paying attention to your reaction.

“You start slowly, then you can add a bit more pressure and go faster… fuck, right there…” you breath, small whimpers leaving your lips. He continues touching you adding more pressure when your whimpers turn into moans. “Oh, shit, yes Michael” you throw your head back, his touches setting your whole body on fire. “Please, put your fingers in me” you plead and he nods again, following your instructions.

“Holy fuck you’re so wet and tight” he moans when he pushes two of them inside your slickness, watching how they disappear in your cunt, coated in your arousal.

“Hmm, your fingers are so good Michael. Move them please, curl them a little b- fffuck, just like that” you gasp when you feel his long, slender fingers find your sensitive spot with ease. “Touch my clit with your thumb… yes, yes, like that” Michael’s a quick study, you realised. He’s driving you closer and closer to your orgasm. “Fuck, you’re so good at this, you’re gonna make me cum.”

Michael smirks proudly, looking at your face contorted in pleasure. He can feel how you get tighter around his fingers, his cock twitching at the feeling.

“I wanna taste you… please, let me taste you” he begs. “Want you to cum in my mouth.”

If that isn't the hottest thing you’ve heard him say. You bite your lip and nod. “How can I say no to that?” You let your legs hang off the desk and proceed to instruct him on what to do next. “You can kiss me there, then you can lick all the way up to my clit, and then- oh!” you throw your head back as Michael’s tongue flattens against your entrance, licking you gently as his hands hold your thighs apart. You watch with mouth open as he devours your cunt, his nose rubbing at your bud repeatedly as he tongue-fucks you. His gaze is focused on you, you bring a hand to his head, pulling him closer as you chase your orgasm. “Yes, yes, Michael don’t stop!”

A moan from his lips sends vibrations to your cunt and you come with a loud cry of his name, the obscene slurping sounds he makes adding to the sensation.

Michael doesn’t let a drop go to waste, licking all your juices eagerly. He moans at your taste. “Fuck, that was so fucking hot, you taste so good.”

You look at him though hooded eyes, his chin shining with your arousal and his glasses all fogged up. He stands up from the floor, and wipes his mouth and chin with his hand. “Gods, Michael… that was amazing…”

“Really?”

“Yes, you learned very quickly” you chuckle and jump off the table, leaning in to kiss him. You can taste yourself in his mouth. You pull back to caress his cheek and he leans into your touch, your heart melting. What’s happening to you?

He hands you your underwear, which you put on quickly. He stays there, rubbing his hands together.

“Uhm… can we do this again? I-I really liked this…”

You grin. “We can definitely do this again… but not here. You can come to my place” you ask as you fix your skirt and stockings.

Again, his eyes widen. “Now?”

“Not necessarily, baby. Let’s take it slow, yeah? But if you want, I can help you with this…” you point at the evident bulge in his pants. He immediately blushes and chuckles, shaking his head.

“Oh, uhm… sorry about that.” He apologises as he tries to cover it, but you stop him by grabbing his wrist.

“Don’t feel ashamed, Mikey. It’s flattering, knowing that I get you this hard.” You look at him into his eyes, you can hear his heavy breathing and notice his Adam’s apple bobbing. “Do I make you this nervous?”

“I told you… you’re dangerous to me.” he breathes and raises an eyebrow. “And you’re also a fucking tease, did you know that?”

You gasp and point at yourself with your finger, feigning innocence. “Me? How am I a tease?” you ask, reaching for his belt with your hands, your eyes fixed on his.

“You know exactly what you’re doing… today during lunch, for example.” He explains, his eyelids heavy as your hands neatly undo his pants, letting them fall with a clicky sound, the metal of the belt hitting the wooden floor.

“What did I do during lunch? I can’t recall” you tease him as your fingertips trace the line of his hard cock through his boxers, biting your lip when you feel a wet spot there.

“You were teasing me, touching my leg and all under the table” Michael’s voice is low and raspy, stirring something inside you.

“Did I? I truly don’t remember doing that” he curses when your hand slides under his boxers, wrapping around his shaft.

“I- I was so hard I had to run and…”

“And?” You know exactly what he’s trying to say, but you want to hear it from his lips. When you don’t get an answer, you stop your movements.

“Fuck, I ran to my dorm and had a wank” He hisses with eyes closed and you continue your ministrations, your thumb stimulating his weeping tip.

“Oh, really? You jerked off thinking about me?” You lean in and start kissing his neck, leaving kisses along his clenched jaw.

“Y-yes. Not the first time” he throws his head back, leaving you more space to kiss and lick.

“No? How many times did you do it?”

“M-many times… since the very first d-day I saw you… shit” he bucks his hips trying to get more friction, but you keep going at your own speed, enjoying how putty he was in your hands.

“Hmm, so you fuck your hand thinking about me, and what do you picture? Tell me” you whisper in his ear, feeling his chest pressing against your tits.

“Oh, fuck… I think about you… your mouth around my cock… your hands all over me” you can already feel him twitching in your hand, a small drop of sweat trickling down the side of his forehead. “I’m not gonna last long, please.” Michael sobs, eyes shut as you continue moving your hand up and down, slowly, torturing him. “Please, I need you to go faster”.

“I won’t go faster until you tell me exactly what you think about when you pleasure yourself, Michael” you demand, making him shiver.

He clenches his jaw, his chest heaving as he tries to speak. “I imagine how your cunt would feel around my cock… I imagine myself fucking you, your moans and whimpers… fuck, fuck, don’t stop I’m s-so close” he begs, unable to hold it any longer. Happy with his answer, you start moving your hand faster.

“Come on, Michael. Cum for me, baby, let go” you watch as he comes with a soft whine followed by a moan of your name, his brows furrowed and cheeks flushed as his orgasm washes over him. Seeing him like that is so hot.

When he finally comes down from his high he opens his eyes, finding your hungry gaze. He looks down and sees his now cum stained boxers. “Fuck” he whispers at the sight of the mess he made in your hand as well, and curses again when you lick your hand.

Then, you lean in and kiss his cheek. “Good job, baby. You did so well for me” you purr, his heart pounding when you praise him. “I should get going. Remember, you’re more than welcome to enter my dorm. I’ll be waiting” you wink at him and gather your stuff, holding your books under your arm, heading off to your dorm.

Michael watches you leave, still not believing what just happened. He puts his cargo pants back and takes his books, putting them inside his bag. He thinks about the cold shower he would have to take as soon as he steps foot into his room.

taglist: @chaotic-fangirl-blog @uh-shyva @coriolanussnowswife @imawhorecrux @yazmunson @ginger-haired-queen @pebblesghost @echos-muses @bellaisasleep

@babysouloperatorsludge

(italics means i couldn't tag)

#michael gavey #michael gavey x reader #michael gavey x you #michael gavey smut #michael gavey fanfic #michael gavey saltburn #saltburn #saltburn fanfiction #ewan mitchell #ewanverse #ewan mitchell fic #mydemimondewrites

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crabonfire · 4 months ago

Text

☆ Would merc still like you if merasmus turned you into a worm 🪱 ☆

characters: all mercs

tags: crack but not really I'm taking it kinda seriously, reader has a platonic relationship with the mercs

note: maybe someone's done this before idk I felt compelled to write something tf2 related and this is lowkey all I fucking got lmao

Also this is ridiculously long for a fic that was supposed to be crack so my bad (this was longer actually, but I cut out a bunch of yapping)

●○●○●

• I feel like Scout's first reaction instead of panicking is to curse and threaten Merasmus.

"OUT OF EVERY SHITTY THING YOU COULD'VE DONE, YOU TURNED THEM INTO A FRIGGIN' WORM?!"

• He's yelling, so much to the point where Merasmus just teleports away and ignores it, finding it funny (of course he finds it funny what a dick)

• He realizes that when he was so busy yelling at Merasmus, he had lost you. He panicked, looking around the ground with a horrified frown, cursing to himself as he started to dig, looking closely. When he finally found you, he placed you on his hand with a frown, looking at how you moved against his fingertips. He wanted to cry a little, he really didn't know what to do.

• He's placing you under his hat. Usually he'd find worms or maggots gross as hell, and if he was going to be honest he still found you gross, but it was you, so...

• Then he rushes back to base, the panicked look on his face never leaving him. He alerts all the other mercs, making a huge fuss over how, you're a worm now, and they need to help him get back at merasmus to turn him back.

He's holding you in his palm, and you're just wiggling around like nothing is wrong cause you're a worm now. And the rest of the mercs look at him like he's crazy.

• Spy, Sniper, Medic, and Heavy are convinced he's lying. Demo believes him a little since he's experienced Merasmus' antics. Soldier automatically believes him fully since the worms there, but you're not, so that must be you. Engineer is just trying to keep the peace, trying to calm scout down, but it doesn't work as no one is listening to him.

• The team is skeptical, thinking that this is some elaborate prank and that, you're just out for a couple hours. But when you don't return tomorrow for the fight, or return after, that raises some suspicions on where you are.

• Ms. Pauling doesn't know where you are either. So is it true? Are you really the worm?

• A meeting is held, everyone stands around the rounded table, the light shining down on you. You're in your little wormy home, slithering and worming your way through life, forgetting your identity, eating leaves and sleeping in dirt.

The mercs watch as you're doing your worm thing.

Engineer clears his throat, making the attention go to him. He turns to Scout, and the confusion in his voice is evident as he speaks.

"Scout, you're absolutely positive that, this worm is (y/n)?"

Scout responds with an aggresive nod, the slight panic and frustration shown in his expression.

"I told you, its them! I saw it happen with my own two eyes, Merasmus found em, they got zapped and poof- they're a worm! A freakin' worm!"

• The team continues to look at you, so peaceful, so calm, being a worm. They don't know why, but, now it was much easier to believe him. The worm was just like you, chill and...cool...and awesome...and wow... amazing..

"So...what? They're just a worm now?"

Sniper said, picking up the jar you were in, looking at you curiously.

"I don't think they'll be too happy stuck like that."

Engineer spoke once again, "If they got turned into a worm, there's...probably a way to turn em' back, right?"

• That was enough to bring hope to Scout's mind. Of course! That was it, if he could find Merasmus and maybe force convince him to turn you back, everything would be okay! All his sadness had dissipated, and he was quick to start making plans.

• So they did, the team would go hunting for Merasmus, and make him turn you back. In the meantime, they'd take turns taking care of you.

• Scout liked to hang out with you, pretending like it was just like before, where you and him would sip sodas together and talk about anything and everything. He'd pour some soda in the dirt you were in, not really caring of the consequences and thinking everything was the same with you two. He really missed having someone to talk to, though.

"Man, I hope you can hear me. It'll be like, super fuckin' weird if I've been talking to you and you're not even in there.."

• Pyro wouldn't really see a difference. That sounds mean, but its really nothing personal. Though now that you were a worm, you weren't as scared as them as you usually were. They'd sit you down, with their plushies, having a nice tea party, watching carefully as you'd just slither about as a worm.

• Soldier was...confused. You, who once was a brave and selfless fighter, was now a worm. It fascinated him and scared him at the same time. He'd get awkward around you, wondering if you remembered him. He'd talk to you mostly, sometimes petting you...He'd try to.

"EVEN IF YOU'RE A WORM, YOU'RE STILL STRONG TO ME!"

"...You're still in there aren't you?"

• Demo wouldn't really know what to do with you either. He finds it kinda funny how you got turned into a worm. Unlike Scout or Soldier, he doesn't really panic, knowing you'll probably be fine, worm or not. He does miss having you to talk to, like scout. Sometimes he'd just be in the living room, and you'd be by the table in your little jar. He'd just watch curiously, but wouldn't really do anything.

• Same thing goes for Sniper. He legit doesn't really know what to do or say. But, he is a little afraid that you won't turn back into a person. Unlike Scout, he found that you weren't 100% obnoxious or annoying, someone to have chill conversations with after battle. He'd keep watch over you, letting you sit with him as he's chilling on top of his van. Sometimes he'd even bring you out with him in battles as he's camping out enemies during fights. He always makes sure you're safe, though.

• Heavy really liked you. He found you someone worth talking to, and a solid member of the team, so it was a bit jarring to see you turned into a worm. He'd keep his hopes up, though, talking to you like normal. Sometimes he'd watch you like Demo did, curious about you and your little world. It was weirdly calming, after battles he'd be worn out, and when he'd see you worming your way through leaves and dirt, it relieved him a little.

• Engie was a little off put by it, the same way soldier felt. You're just...a worm now? Huh. He doesn't really know what to say to that. Medic and him share the same thought, and that thought is, are you concious? Are you aware that you're a worm? Or are you mindless?

They can't help but think of it that way, in a practical sense. Medic would have to hide you from archimedes and the rest of his doves, who would love to eat you at any given chance.

Sometimes they'd do tests on you. Nothing painful or dramatic but, tests to see if you're still in there. They're really overthinking it.

Engie likes having you in his workshop late at night, makes him feel less alone when you're just worming. Medic keeps you at a distance, just to make sure he doesn't lose you or, have one of his doves eat you.

• Spy, is, kind of grossed out. Nobody has a close relationship with him. He did have a lot of respect for you, both on and off the battlefield. You were just a decent human being who he found a liking to, now you're...a worm. A gross, slimy worm.

He never let you into his smoking room, actually he never even let you out of your jar. He liked you, respected you, but liked you more as a person.

He feels pity, honestly, and just wants you to either be out of his way, or back to normal.

• When you do eventually turn back into a worm, they're all pretty glad. They all have questions, ranging from "Were you really in there? Like were you- aware?" And then "Was it nice being a worm?"

I'm sure you can tell who's asking which question and such.

○●○●○

this what comic 7 leak does to a person

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multi-fandomedfreak · 1 year ago

Note

Gn!reader and Connor making out in a semi-public spot and Hank is just like "OMFG PLS STOP RUINING MY INNOCENCE BOY"

Maybe hcs of every time hes caught them doing a lil too much PDA wise

(Doesn't specifically have to be making out just excess PDA, maybe Connor and reader are flirting a whole lot just whatever ur comfy with!)

Authors note: IM SO IN LOVE WITH THIS IDEA.

Characters: Connor x Gn!Reader and third wheel Hank (poor guy)

⚠Warnings⚠: Semi-Public making out, mentions of dying (just a little)

🪙🪙🪙🪙🪙

The first time

-You and Connor think you guys are so slick

-Spoiler: you’re not

-You were both pretty new into the relationship so couldn’t keep your hands off each other

-And plus since the station barely had any people, why not sneak off with each other?

-Thinking it was gonna be for just a small while, you both are at the back of the station, smoochin’ away

-and surprise surprise

-you end up staying there long enough for Hank to actually end up getting worried

-like do you have any idea? how long you two have to be away for? for hank to get worried??

-Bc its not like he doesn't care or anything but he simply isn't used to having to actively keep an eye on you two

-but then them mother instincts kicked in after he noticed you two had been gone for a while

-He just starts asking around if anyone saw the two of you

-And happened to stumble in on you guys (poor dude screamed he needed bleach after walking in on you two)

-Lets just say that Hank kept a closer eye on you two after that

The second time

-You two have calmed down since the last incident with Hank walking in on you guys

-But of course you still had your moments with each other

-this time around you weren’t in that much of a public space (what you told yourself)

-just casually behind the Chicken Feed truck while Hank ate his lunch

-yknow, like how normal people do

-You two honestly don't really understand how it even happened

-You wanted a drink from a nearby shop since the drink you wanted wasn't sold at the Chicken Feed

- And Connor simply asked if he could tag along

-Aaand next thing you know you're both behind the Chicken Feed truck, drink long forgotten, with Connor trapped between you and the truck

-Of course, Hank gets worried again since he's a pretty slow eater so he doesn't know how you're still not back after all this time

he swears... that's it. jk jk, I'm just being stupid. anyways, he swears that you both are gonna give him a heart attack someday from how much he worries

-He tries calling you on his phone and gets confused when he hears your ringtone from behind the truck

-Time skip a few minutes later, Connor and you have red ears from Hanks grip and sulking in the car ride to the station after his lecture

-Mostly because he swears the two of you make him worried sick on purpose

The third time

-Ok. this time.

-You didn’t even try to hide it

-Like no joke, just decided to make out right there and then

-On Hanks couch.

-knowing he was about to be back in a little bit

-but heyyyy you both could’ve cared less in that moment

-A few hours earlier, you were after a suspect and one thing lead to another so all of a sudden, you were being held hostage

-So this making out was a bit justified since you almost died thinking that you were never gonna see Connor again

-And he was just as scared

-Soo both of ya just wanted to hold each other for a bit

-That’s probably why when Hank got back from doing whatever Hank does, he bit his tongue (literally) to stop a snippy remark from falling out

-He was just happy you were alive and you two were finding comfort in each other

-Albeit, a little grossed out at your show of affection

-He just cursed under his breath and went to go take a nap

#dbh headcanons #dbh connor #dbh connor x reader #connor x reader #connor rk800 #rk800 #rk800 x reader #dbh rk800 #rk800 dbh #detroit become human rk800 #detroit rk800 #rk800connor #detroit become human #detroit: become human #detroit: bh

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hollyhomburg · 5 months ago

Text

Before I Leave You (Pt.72)

(Omegaverse au, Mafia au, Bts x Reader)

Summary: you get punished alongside hobi for your indiscretions in public.

Tags: mention of getting arrested, tense situations, implied non-consentual nudity, light angst, d/s, Dom! jin, Breif Daddy! jinnie, Dom! Namjoon, Dom! Jimin, Sub! m/c, Sub! Hobi, Group sex, gangbang, humiliation kink, praise kink, puppy space! hobi, omegaspace! m/c, crawling, Collars, fingering, edging, orgasam denial, orgasam control, overstimulation, painplay, brief cock and ball torture (hobi gets his cock flicked a few times really its very tame), shoe riding, Exhibitionism, Squirting, wrestle-fucking, cum marking, cum swapping, marking kink, mc gets treated like a little cumdump but she's very happy about it, size kink, pussy spanking, breeding benches. Shibari, ropes, dacryphilia, breeding kink, oral! f receiving, hole checks, biting, slight implied sub drop but it's nothing serious.

W/c: 16.8k+

A/n: you know what... this is excessive, i'm not even going to pretend that it's NOT excessive. no smut needs to be this long but! oh well!!

Previous part- Masterlist - First part

“When I saw the car, I thought that they might have been some of those Gang kids from downstate. Obviously, I’m glad to be proven wrong.”

Namjoon has his arms crossed on the front porch, eyes flashing disapprovingly between you and Hobi standing with hunched shoulders and rancid scents between the two officers. Large and threatening, their black uniforms and neat little badges glint in the porch's light. Their guns at their side in their holsters that stay there (thankfully) their handcuffs that glisten like the silver sliver of the moon that hangs above the trees.

Namjoon crosses his arms and stares them down. “They’re usually very well behaved, I truly don’t know what’s gotten into them.”

The deference in Namjoon's voice is forced, but the disappointment isn't.

Don’t they have something better to do than this? Even traffic stops. Jin must be thinking. Hovering behind Namjoon’s shoulder in his striped robe, a sight that you don’t like- because no one besides the pack should get to see Jin in all of his fluffy cheeked and matching pajama glory. It’s not the 18th century and it’s not improper for an omega to be seen in their nesting clothes anymore- but still, the instinct to dart across the porch and hide him sort of from view is not a distant desire.

Hoseok’s hands hover, not reaching out to grab yours, because he's not sure that he's allowed. After being yanked out of the confines of his Lamborghini the hour before. He's right to be hesitant about touching you.

The last hour or so of your life has been a scary one, watching Hobi get yanked out of the car- a taser- not a gun- drawn in his direction. Freezing where you sat, unclothed. A strange man looking down at you- thanking your lucky stars that you'd had enough time to pull your underwear on at least- that you'd still been wearing your sweatshirt. Not entirely nude just partially.

"At least let her get dressed." He'd snapped, guarding their line of sight from him to you. Every instinct in him absolutely turned feral. He's still a little shifty, a little too close to growling and getting you in even more trouble than you already are.

namjoon's eyes are dark but assured. if anyone could talk his way out of a ticket for public indecency- it would be Namjoon. You’re a little non-plussed, less shy than Hobi though you would be about being seen in a state of semi-undress by two strange alphas and Hoseok doesn’t like that. That you’d been silent, that you hadn’t hidden behind him the same way Jin’s doing.

He doesn't know where the Lambo will end up but Hoseok doesn't care, doesn't care at all. It will probably be sent to an impound lot or maybe put up for auction. But a look at Jin's face says that he won't let any of this slide. Jin knows the law. Folds his arms carefully over his chest.

“Our pups are well behaved, thank you for returning them to us.”

A pretty omega is a special kind of good luck- a thing you’d always like to have in your corner if you can help it. The officers are disarmed by your pretty pack omega, Jin does not bat his eyelashes at them but it’s almost like he is because the alpha's scent next to you swells prideful in the tepid night air- like apples, but artificial not like candy but cough syrup.

You almost want to scoff, as if.

Hoseok wants to gnash his teeth. How dare he- projecting his scent here- in front of the den of all places. It's so rude. Hobi is surprised that no one has said anything.

Namjoon's jaw rolls, and you can tell that he wants too.

Alphas after a knotting are a volatile thing. The sound of Hoseok gnashing his teeth joins the white noise of having other people close, of being here. Between two men with guns. You don't like it, your instincts chaffing, screaming in your ear to get away- to get safe, to go to the nest upstairs, even if you would never risk taking the scent of strangers into your most intimate place.

Namjoon’s eyes flash, first to your face and then to the officers. And you know that he knows that you're on the edge of it, that you're one bad word away from bursting into tears. Every bone of his body is ramrod straight, Namjoon is holding himself back.

Not as hard as Hobi is, he’s shaking like a leaf next to you.

The other police officer (the one who has his scent mostly under control and looks younger than you) gulps. Uncomfortable with the level of pungent pheromones that Namjoon is putting out right now. Namjoon's pack alpha scent is stinky and unabated, with stiff liquor and angry sour coffee (you’d rather smell him than the sour apple scent).

All you want to do is close the two feet between the two of you and sink behind him but instead, you’re forced to stay here. A wide- unfamiliar hand on your shoulder keeps you in place.

The fact that the police officers are bold enough to touch you right now tells you everything you need to know about the danger of the situation; touching another alpha's omega is already sort of rude. Touching another omega who's just been knotted in front of two of their alphas and their pack omega? You're surprised Namjoon didn't come out the door swinging.

You're pretty sure you can feel Hobi's cum dripping out of your hole, you have to stand carefully to keep it from leaking out. You squirm uncomfortably. Hoping that no one can smell it.

The silence between the alphas hovers threateningly, and you see Namjoon's nostrils flare.

“Listen- we could easily book them both for public indecency, but it’s not the summer yet, and we understand you have a lot of packmates, Mr. erm-“

“Kim Namjoon, Doctor Kim Namjoon.”

It helps that Namjoon’s still in his suit. Three pieces and dark blue that flatters his skin tone and an early tan that he has because Jungkook had dragged him out for a run on the last warm day you had. He's the picture of perfect tailoring and everything that a pack alpha should be.

He had a meeting with the board of directors today- you remember watching him get ready this morning, coiffing his hair back away from his face. Making sure he looked presentable.

Namjoon had his resignation meeting today- and broke the news to the hospital board that he was looking to retire. Maybe not forever- but at least for the foreseeable future. Maybe…until after the pack had pups even.

He's been talking about more and more recently, even though it's not really up to him. Even though it's not really up to you either- given how your heats have stalled. Jin is the only omega who is willing to entertain those conversations that happen in the late night honey light often when the two of them are brought low and sweet and so in love it takes your breath away a little.

The way the two of them look when it's just them, cuddled on the couch or the dining room table or in the bathroom elbow to elbow. And Namjoon's hands will skim Jin's stomach almost in worry, in warming. Like Namjoon's hopes are too big not to pretend already. Playing with each other's hands and whispering sweet nothings and sweeter promises.

"Do you think they'd have your eyes?" "I don't care, but I hope they have your dimples."

Namjoon will ask to mate Jin any day now, the second any danger fades. You know it as surely as you know that you and Hoseok are going to get matching tattoos the next free day you have to.

But the danger has not faded at all tonight, no, the danger is here on either side of you and Hobi. On your porch. On your front doorstep. sweat bleeds down the back of your neck. You think of the body that's no longer downstairs, and the spackled-over holes in the plaster.

You wish you knew how his meeting went. If it went poorly or not- there is nothing in his expression that gives it away, not the Glasses on the edge of his nose, barely shielding the officers from his glower or his suit still buttoned.

The officers take Namjoon’s glare to heart, probably thinking that namjoon's angry at both you and Hobi and not from the general disdain Namjoon has for police officers.

“When we found out that they were registered to a pack we figured- you understand, of course. We prefer to leave things like this up to pack alphas. We understand the delicacy of these abnormal family structures.”

Namjoon looks at you and tips his chin down slightly, imperceptibly.

You dart across the distance, folding yourself against his shoulder. But Namjoon doesn’t leave you there, pushing you gently behind his shoulder and into Jin's waiting arms. You cling to Jin’s front, side by side with Hobi too who followed Namjoon's wordless command.

He glances back at the officers and starts to growl. Namjoon’s sharp voice cuts off the sound. Louder- to block it out. “Thank you for returning them to me. I’ll handle it. Have a good night.”

Namjoon has a hand on the back of your and Hobi's neck, threatening a scruff if you don't behave, guiding you into the house. And you know that touch sets the police down and satisfied.

A pack alpha like that- I'd rather take a night in a cell you hear them whisper as they turn, heavy booths thudding down the steps. Hoseok pauses, a louder- deeper growl sparking to life in his chest like rolling thunder. How dare they- how dare they judge Namjoon-

Seokjin's arm tightens around Hobi’s waist cutting off the sound.

Jimin is there in the doorway as Namjoon and Jin muscle you through. Staying hidden. Probably because Namjoon and Jin doubted that he could be civil during a time like this. He’s jumping up and down on the balls of his feet, wound up by the presence of the police. The officers flash their lights once and only once as they pull away from your house. Jimin watches as he pulls down the blinds.

The floorboards creek under your feet as you sway. There are only two lights lit on the ground floor. The lamp by the couch and the one by the coffee pot. Both yellow, both honey. And it sends the 5 of you into dulcet chiaroscuro. Namjoon's face is all shadows and honey as his lip lifts in a snarl and he scrubs a hand over his cheeks. trying to get a handle on his instincts before he lashes out.

Your heart thumps hard in your chest as you watch him and he watches you.

You clear your throat, and your voice comes out tight, hissing. "Where's Tae and Yoongi and Jungkookie?" You ask him, anxiety bleeding down the back of your neck. No one answers your question. No one has any reaction and it’s like you haven’t spoken at all.

Namjoon is a man on a mission, pulls you into the center of the room and unzips your sweatshirt and strips it off of you efficiently. Checking for marks on your arms, your throat, the nape of your neck- looking. But he finds no evidence of hurt or impropriety. Not even a fucking hickey.

He drops to his knees to check your stomach- some alpha part of him that can’t avoid the temptation- itching and fighting to get out as he lifts the hem of your shirt. Hands circle your hips, checking for bruises, checking your knees, your hips, and your calves. Checking for anything.

He looks up at you from the floor, hands gripping the back of your knees.

“Did they touch you pup?”

Hobi shifts uneasily from foot to foot. "I was watching her the whole time-"

“No. Alpha-”

Jimin’s eyes flash in the darkness, “thought you were going to punch them hyung.” But even though he teases, Jimin’s scent is still sour, everyone’s is.

“Would have,” Namjoon grits out. It takes a special sort of devotion to make a gentle man violent. But you’ve never been gladder for Namjoon’s gentleness as you are now.

It rushes over you- everything that’s happened; Watching Hobi get yanked from the car by his shoulder and pushed up against the side of the car. Having to pull on your pants in the dark parking lot with a flashlight on you and some man behind it. Watched. Hunted.

A knot builds in your chest, and you don’t cry- you won’t cry but-

Jin’s hands brush your hair away from your face, tucking it behind your shoulders. “You’re gonna be alright pup- it’s alright-“

Your lower lips quivers. “Ask me my color.”

Namjoon is still on his knees below you and jolts at hearing your words. Jaw rolling as he looks up at you and chews through them. Both Jimin and Hobi's faces jerk in your direction, eyes wide. Nervous. jin's eyelashes just flutter, a purr building in his chest. soothing your fried and anxious scent.

“Ask me Jin- please-” Your voice cracks, wobbles.

Jin’s tentative, and behind him you see Jimin's gaze anxiously darting between the pack alpha and omega.

But you're trembling there, so unmoored, and all you want is someone to tell you how to feel, what to do, what to say, and how to sit. Everything. You want someone to decide what you need for you, to make your choices for you.

Jin eyes you, flickering down to your heaving chest as he pets gently over your collarbones with the back of his hand. Shushing you while he thinks. Is this what you’re asking for- what you need? Do you really need a scene from them right now? Do you really want to submit after something like that?

Yes, in any way you’ll let me. I just need to stop thinking about what just happened. I don’t want to. Please don’t make me tell you. Don’t make me relive it. I just want to forget. Can you make me stop thinking? Can you fuck it out of me?

Jin's thumb hovers on your lower lip, like he needs to feel as well as hear you say it. “What’s your color pup?”

“Green” your voice breaks, and Jin pauses. he looks at you for a singular long moment and then down at Namjoon.

Namjoon’s hands run down the front of your thighs once more to your knees and then back up again before he pops back up onto his feet. Towering over you and turning your hands over and over again in his. The marks that crisscross your palms look pink and threatening. But Namjoon knows that they haven’t bothered you in weeks.

Namjoon moves from you to Hobi, going not for his hands but to the hem of his shirt. Stripping it off of him, Hobi puts his arms up for him, obedient. His hair fluffy when he comes out the other side.

Namjoon presses the shirt to his nose and although it’s dry from your slick and squirt now- you blush, aware of what he must be able to scent on it. Of what Namjoon must be able to scent on both of you. The evidence of your indiscretion and the misery that followed

The pack alpha’s coffee scent spikes wildly, thick and musky- dizzying, making you teeter to the point where Jimin rests a hand on your elbow to steady you.

Hobi's arms rise with goosebumps as Namjoon palms him blatantly between his legs. Feeling for his cock, feeling for a still inflated knot. finding it sweet and heavy and lonely between his thighs. Hobi’s lower lash line is wet but his whole body jerks into Namjoon's hand as he gasps. But he stays mostly still at Namjoon's inspection.

“Green,” he says before Namjoon even has to open his mouth.

"Such a good pup, saying it before he's even asked. how eager, how needy." Jin praises, still petting over your collarbones, eyeing your throat with a keen light in his eyes that you haven't seen in months. Namjoon seems to have the same idea. Stares hobi down before jerking his head and looking at Jimin, standing at the ready, eager to be of use.

"Go get their collars. Please Minnie." It's the only time Namjoon will ask so nicely for something tonight. Hobi lets out a belated whine that cuts off at Namjoon's look, "settle." Namjoons shoulders straighten and he's still holding Hobi's cock, staring into his eyes until Hobi bears his throat with another noise, a pupish whine.

You don't know if you've ever heard Hobi sound like that. You wonder if you sound like that- when you're under Namjoon's thumb. There is nothing in his face left of the boy who teased you until you were shaking a few short hours ago. But somehow you still can't tear your eyes away from them.

Maybe Hobi needs this just as much as you do, which is why he's letting it happen.

Namjoon is so big compared to Hobi, at least a head taller and so much wider. He's such a big alpha. Hobi knows it too- He grits his teeth. Bares them at the pack alpha in challenge. An invitation if you’ve ever seen one, Namjoon just scoffs at the show of aggression.

"If you do not settle puppy, Alpha will make you and you will not like it."

Hoseok just growls again, louder.

They stand off like that, Namjoon’s jaw rolls and You stand there, mindful not to move, as Jin shuts the blinds and Namjoon lets go of Hobi roughly and then takes off his dark blue suit jacket, folding it gently over the back of the couch. Every movement is smooth and measured. He might be the angriest you've ever seen him, but Namjoon is still taking pains not to spook you.

Namjoon moves in your direction and Hobi growls. A real growl this time a warning.

Namjoon just looks at him and grins, bearing his teeth, a little feral. "Alright- if that's how you want to play it pup then so be it. You need to remember who you belong to- who you both belong to."

Namjoon undoes his cufflinks, letting them fall to the floor with a metallic pop. His eyes are dark and hot on you. "To answer your question pup- a certain photo made Jungkook too riled up to wait. They're taking care of him upstairs. He wanted to make sure the nest was warm for you- said you’d need it with how angry we were."

You swallow, silent for a moment- turning to Jimin, reappearing in the doorway, "you didn't-"

Jimin shakes his head, blonde hair flopping eyes dark. He's got both your collars in his hands. They look a bit more delicate than you remember. Hoseok's red and yours pink. "Wanted to make sure you were both alright."

You swallow and turn back to Namjoon. It's a real struggle not to burst into tears. "Tae asked me to wait up with you, to help-" he cuts himself off with a look at namjoons face.

you swallow through a thick lump in your throat.

As the pack's subs- it's harder for them to let you and Hobi play on your own without worrying and checking. On a good day this would have resulted in something similar, less rough- but something similar. And today has not been a good day- not by a long shot.

It’s no secret that both of you need a guiding hand. A guiding hand that you both haven't gotten or had in the last few months but one that you’ve needed. Submissive and packmate neglect isn't something that Namjoon takes lightly.

Namjoon’s hand directs your chin up so that you have to look him in the eyes.

“Riling us up is all fun and good- but I do trust you to be safe pup- not only with yourselves- but with us too.” You can hardly keep Namjoon’s gaze with the disappointment evident in his voice, the shame in your chest simmering. Not because he’s wrong and you don’t deserve this scolding, but because you know he’s very very right.

His voice rises in pitch, his anger sparking from flares to a controlled burn. “involving the police when things have finally calmed down- to do something that stupid out of your need for some teenage rebellion. Do you know what might happen? What might happen to all of us if someone finds out-"

Namjoon doesn’t raise his voice, never. Not in anger and not in anguish but he gets close now. Voice rising both in pitch and tone. Cutting himself off before he truly shouts at you.

He strokes down your cheek lovingly, gently after he gets a handle on his tone.

“I know you are not dumb; I know you’re not stupid- but maybe I’ve been underestimating the amount of guidance you both need.” Namjoon pets your cheek with a finger, gentle. a little incredulous, like he seriously can't believe it, like he doesn't know- "What the fuck were you thinking?"

"Hobi and I- we were just- we just wanted to have fun-"

"You could have done it in the fucking house-" Namjoon bites out.

"No, no I couldn't have." You are stubborn for once, unflinching. It's times like this that you’re always the most honest. When you’re so brought down that you have no choice but to be.

Your voice rises, even though you don’t want it to.

"This place is so stuffy with guilt these days that I can't even breathe Namjoon, I can't breathe without wondering who is mad at me and for what- Yoongi-" You slip, looking down and away, looking at Hobi who looks like he might cry too. "I can't- I can't come to you with this because you're still angry at me- I know you're still angry at me-"

Namjoon is too stricken to speak, too stricken to do much more than clutch at you.

"Asking for a punishment is easier, asking for a punishment is easier because at least I know you won't give me something that you don't want-"

You know better than most that respecting people's boundaries means you won't always get what you need. And to have Namjoon disregard that when you know that he values boundaries as much as you do-

You won't be like them. Like Moonbyul or Geumjae or any past lovers that might have traipsed over boundaries and justified it by calling it a need. You won't have Namjoon disregard that either. To call what you and Hobi did a mistake and a 'should have' when it's so much more than that.

It's Hobi who speaks, imploringly "Alpha."

Namjoon turns to Hobi, “You are one of my alpha’s," he turns back to you "My omega, you are mine.” Namjoon’s voice goes honey-soft when he says it, and a flush rises high on Hobi’s cheeks.

“My anger is not something I want to matter as much as your needs. I want you to feel that I love you- always. And this is how I show it, if you felt you couldn't come to me just because-" Namjoon's voice is thick with emotion and he closes his eyes, stealing himself Namjoon's teeth dig into his lower lip, glancing back at Hobi.

"I expect you to know when to stop and when keep going. If you do not understand the line between agency and safety, the line between my anger and my love for you, I will need to show you again.”

There is red leather in Jin's hands, shiny in the darkness. He’s got yours as well- small and pink and delicate looking next to Hobi’s classic collar. You’ve almost forgotten what it’s looked like- it’s been so long since the pack has used it on you. Jin does not move to fasten it around Hobi’s neck yet. Just perches on the arm of the couch.

“Color?” He asks again, because he can’t not double-check after an outburst like that. Your bell tinkles in his hands as he turns it over. You almost flinch at the sound of it, almost.

Hobi’s a little breathless, chest heaving, instincts clearly running wild. “Green”

it takes you a second longer. They wait, Jimin strokes a hand down your back, gently. “Green.” It’s small and it’s soft, but you give it. You’d say no if you didn’t want it.

Your body is shaking- you feel so unmoored, so unsettled. Namjoon is angry at you and it doesn't matter. He says it doesn't and you should believe him. Still- you’re willing to do anything to get him close, to be forgiven.

"What do you need?" namjoon asks you it without pre-amble, without expectation.

"I don't want to think anymore, I don't want to be afraid, can you" you hesitate, "Can you fuck it out of me?"

Namjoon spends another second watching you, waiting. But then he plunges on ahead. Letting the full weight of his scent ripple out, heavenly and thick. Intoxicating.

"Kneel. Now. Both of you."

Your legs go weak and you plummet without your say-so. Jimin is close at your elbow, catching you as soon as you fall, guiding you softly to the floor so you don’t hurt your knees. Huffing a quiet laugh. Your face remains upturned in Namjoon's direction. Unable to look away.

From the corner of your eye, you see Jin stride over to you and Hobi. where you kneel side by side. His usually comforting omega pheromones are rancid. He cups your cheeks, turning you away from Namjoon to look at him.

He dangles the collar in front of you teasingly.

"You both have to earn your collars today- Both of you- on the couch" You aim to get up on your feed but Jin keeps you down with a soft hand on the top of your head. "No, you'll crawl."

humiliation makes your breath hitch, but you you jerk forward, shuffling across the floor until Jin stops you yet again with a quiet laugh. "Not yet puppy, wait- stay-"

You can't possibly know that crawling is something that the others often make Hobi do in puppy space. He is no stranger to this. But you do recognize the wild glassiness as something else other than subspace when you look over at him tentatively, hoping that he's not looking at you, hoping that he's following their commands just like you are. It's substantially less embarrassing with him by your side.

Huh, you like this. You like kneeling with Hobi, it makes you feel fuzzy, it makes you feel safe- in a way that subbing alone or subbing with just Jungkook hadn't- maybe.

Maybe it's because Hobi is an alpha.

"Stay." Jin commands, a hand up, and you feel like your whole body is on fire as the three of them, Jin, Namjoon, and Jimin, go to sit on the couch, taking their time while you both kneel. A loud keening noise punctures the quiet as you watch them walk away from you, and it takes you a breath to realize it came from your own throat.

“Stay, good puppies.”

The bubble in your throat bursts and you let out a held breath. Shaky.

Namjoon's thighs splay to show his generous hardness tenting in his slacks, Jin sits daintier, one leg crossed over the other and his robe re-tucked. Jimin shifts uneasily, hands on his knees, eyes darting from you to Namjoon who stares you down.

You watch delicately, as Jin laces his hand with Namjoon's, smoothing the other up and down Jimin's thigh. The other alpha's hardness isn't so obvious. But the scent of Jinnie's slick joins your own looping through the air like the scent of fresh baked goods on a hot summer's day. Sweet and enticing.

All you have to do is not move until Hobi does.

You keen again, and it goes unacknowledged again. Hobi's knuckles brush against the floor hard as he shifts his weight. The pack alpha and pack omega hold their breath.

"Okay, now."

Hoseok goes quicker than you do, you're a little slow, a little sluggish, a little dumb under the weight of whatever Namjoon's pheromones are doing to you. Your cheeks feel like they're on fire and your gaze is downturned as you crawl to them. The humiliation of it bleeding down your chest and back as you fail to meet their gaze as you go. Stopping only when you're in between Namjoon and Jin's feet. Hobi's thigh pressed against yours.

You watch as Jin fastens the red collar around Hobi's neck. The gold metal dog bone-shaped charm on the end rests against the hollow of his throat is so pretty. When he looks up at Jin, there is nothing but utter devotion in his eyes, it's so beautiful it makes you a little breathless.

As you watch the words on the charm catch the light, 'good boy' it reads.

"Good girl." Your gaze is drawn back to Namjoon and you feel your own collar fastened around the back of your neck. Jimin’s hands making quick work of the buckle. Not the pack alpha, although he does tug at the bell at the front, making it jingle. Removing it after a second.

Too much excess noise- maybe for those upstairs. Namjoon has no idea if they’ve finished yet but it’s late enough for them to be asleep.

Jin tugs at your collar, one hand looped through yours, the other Hobi’s. Hobi goes where Jin pulls him, as easy as breathing. You’re a little more stumbly, setting a hand on his knee to stop yourself from face-planting into it (you wouldn’t have hit it hard, you’re just very wobbly right now).

Jin lets you catch your breath (you’re panting a little too heavy already and they haven’t even begun) before pulling you cheek-to-cheek with Hobi. Jin does it for seemingly no reason, pulling you this way and that just to see if you'll follow until you're cheek to cheek with him. Until you can feel more than see hobi's grin.

It feels a bit like an owner showing their pet what they did wrong. A little humiliating where it not for the way Hobi squeezes your hip reassuringly. Jin's fingers toy with the back of your collar before threading through your hair, the other in Hobi's, scratching his scalp hard. Hobi tips his head back into the touch.

Your eyelashes flutter- head pets do feel really really good-

Jin's long fingers go tight in your hair, and he starts to tug you back to Hobi again. "Give her a kiss puppy, as a thank you for asking for a scene so sweetly. Show her how good puppies give kisses."

Your eyelashes flutter, and you barely catch the deep red flush on Hobi's cheeks- that matches the collar around his throat- before he follows Jin's command.

It's different than the kisses you shared in the car- so much more involved. Hobi's jaw works and his tongue- the way he laps into your mouth- licks blindly and sloppy, is messy- but it's good- the tip of your tongue teases his sharp canines and he tastes musky and satisfied, the fear and anger edging away bit by bit.

He bites your lower lip, smarting. Painful enough that you gasp and lean further into him. You like it when he bites, maybe a little too much- the shock- the zinging pain of being marked, the ache that stays there and lets you know you'll wear his bruises later.

Jin pulls him back with a savage jerk. "No biting, bad puppy." but Hoseok is grinning, eyes a little hazy, and you know you must be his mirror, reaching, reaching to touch.

Jin laughs softly as he shakes you slightly once for good measure, keeping you at arm's length from the very alpha that earned you this punishment. Shaking you gently. Before he lets you go, letting you sag against Namjoon's thigh and into his hands, the pack alpha shushes you, murmurs out a ‘good pup’ that makes you feel like you’re melting, scratching gently down your shoulders, between the straps of your tank top.

Jin’s eyes are flinty in the darkness. Dom space has never looked quite so brutal, quite so beautiful either. Jin sets his elbows on his knees and stares down at you until you whimper and look away. Hiding your face in Namjoon’s thigh.

"Minnie, take the pups out of their clothes. Just her pants, I think the pup needs a little cover." You gulp.

He's right, goosebumps form up and down your arms. You're not sure how Jimin gets you out of them- picking you up by the loops in your pants and draping you filthy and quick over Namjoon's thigh (an impressive feat of strength) yanking them off with a laugh as you kick your legs a little- just so that Jin can grab them to keep them still, just so that Hobi can put his teeth against your thigh to make you stay.

"No puppy- bad- i said no biting." Your panties are just as wet and filthy with cum and slick as they were in the car nearly an hour ago. Your cunt flutters around nothing at a bit of rough treatment. Forcing more of the mess out. Seeping. Turning the fabric dark with a mix of slick and cum and squirt.

Jimin pries them apart to point it out to namjoon and jin and your hand goes tight on the pack alphas waist. glad that they can't see your face as they praise you. How you whimper and grow teary eyed a the humiliation of being put on display.

"Wow Hobi- how many times did you even make her cum?"

"Yeah she's like- totally ruined." They snap the band meanly- but they leave them on. Someone spankings you just once, brief, gentle- you hardly feel the sting. Before they place you gently back on the floor- this time properly between Namjoon's legs.

But it’s not really rough- it’s delicate. The way that Namjoon and Jin tug at your collar. The dark cushion that Namjoon sets down for your knees. Hobi doesn’t get a cushion and it takes you a second to figure out why.

He won’t be kneeling for long.

You might like it a little too much, having them manhandle you. Keeping you there on the floor below them- below the hum of conversation, not excluded but not expected to participate. Reassuringly just at the edge of their touch. Namjoon's fingers stay tucked into your collar, just at your scent gland, rubbing into it reassuringly.

Jimin is a good alpha and disrobes Hobi with just as much fussing.

Letting the other alpha growl and fight back until Jimin has to put real effort into pining Hobi to the floor. Ripping off his boxers with a clean jerk and a loud tearing sound. Laughing all the while- clearly enjoying himself as Hobi’s growls become needy whines and the knee between his leg grinds down.

His cock flicks and jerks as Jimin holds him there. His nose is pressed to the ground until he stops fighting back. Arms and shoulders flexing with definition. Determination flagging.

-Omegas watching have to show omega- have to show- but- but Minnie's too strong- it feels too good to let him set his teeth on Hobi's neck. To go limp at the attention. Jiminie is just- he's-

Hobi is spinning, dazed. Too dazed to notice your staring, the fresh pulse of slick in the air as you watch him. Peaking over Namjoon's thigh nervously to watch the scuffle. It feels too good to submit. To let go of the rioting animal thing in his chest and just give in.

You'd be nervous if Jimin's touch didn't go soft, didn't go sweet as he pets up and down Hobi's cheek. "There you go puppy- just needed to know alpha's here, right?"

Hobi trembles as he leans into Jimin's hands. He's still shaking when Jimin puts him gently back in between Jin's parted thighs.

It's only with Hobi completely bare that Jimin settles back against the couch. legs parted wide, cock so obviously hard between his legs tenting his black pajama pants. It's hard to miss it.

Hard and aching. You wonder if it hurts to be so turned on- to poke out like that.

You blink, first looking from Hobi, where he sits more docile and even more dazed looking than before to Namjoon above you, watching with a satisfied glint in his eyes. And you realize he was poised to step in if Jimin failed to settle him. He let Jimin take the job of settling. Let him- because he likes it.

Namjoon catches you watching, stroking down your neck in question. "I didn't realize the wrestling was like- a sex thing," You mutter, soft.

"It's not always," Jimin says, at the same time Jin snorts and says "Of course it was a sex thing."

Hobi’s a little dazed, not responding to your words and it takes a glance for you to realize that oh- he’s somewhere else. His eyes are wide and upturned, glassy as he looks at Jin. He looks at Jin the same way that Jimin looks at Tae when she’s not looking. Utter devotion and more.

Hobi's good. He keeps his hands between his parted thighs at Jin’s feet. Not touching his cock, hard and arching up towards his stomach. All but shaking his ass to mime a wagging tail (you wonder if he's got one somewhere in the boxes in the other room). When Jin touches his cheek, Hobi whines and laps at his fingers.

“Good puppy” Namjoon croons from above you, eyes sharp on Hobi, glancing at you when he catches you watching. “Such a good example”

After a second. You put your own hands between your parted thighs and push up on them. Mimicking his posture and arching your spine. looking back up at Namjoon for approval.

"Good pup, just like that."

Jin continues to pet Hobi, up and down the side of his face, scratching the top of his head. And Hobi continues to push into his hands. Eyes fluttering closed. The touches indulgent and certainly a reward.

Jin’s supposed to be angry; he’s supposed to be punishing you- but sue him- Seokjin has missed his puppy, his good boy. He’s going to take every opportunity for some much-needed daddy/dog time.

"Now, do you want to tell me what made you fuck like a mutt during a rut in a car where anyone could see you? Or do I have to spank it out of you?"

"We just- I- we went to the store and-"

Hobi whines loudly cutting you off, Jimin is massaging at his scent gland, leaning low to teethe at it while Jin pets through his hair. Hands skimming down, over his chest and then the skinny almost abs that Hobi's always had.

You know that Jin has his hands on his cock when Hobi seizes up. Eyes fluttering in relief. Lips parting, tongue pressing between his lips but not lolling out quite yet.

He pumps Hobi hard, once, twice. And Namjoon lets you watch. Peeking over his thigh, chin perched there, stroking down your cheek. He lets you watch Hobi jerk when Jin takes a hand off of him. Letting out a half gasp and half whimper.

The pack omega changes his mind, looking down at the bit of pre-cum on his fingers. Almost purring. Purring because even after having you twice, Hobi is still weak for his pack omega.

You squirm, rubbing your legs together, and Namjoon tuts, nudging your thighs apart with one of his shiny leather dress shoes. "No pup."

"Actually, I don't think we should spank them, I think that would be too much of a treat." Jimin taunts.

"I agree," Jin says, petting through Hobi’s hair, tugging it this way and that roughly.

Jin notices your confused expression, and he tips your chin up to his. "If you're going to fuck and tease like a mutt without thought then we're going to treat you like one puppy. Only good pups get treats."

Hoseok whines, so far down that he can't verbally respond, you stutter, trying to form words. More cognizant but still stumbling, struggling to meet Namjoon's eyes when you look up at him.

It's easier to stare elsewhere, not over at Jimin, who has one hand between his own legs and the other loosely wrapped around Jin's waist, chin resting on the omega's shoulder, fingers toying with the closure of his robe and the smooth planes of his chest revealed by the plunging neckline. That delicate clavicle that you are only too accustomed to- that you are only too hungry for in omegaspace.

It might take one last push to get you there. But Namjoon and Jin have always been fans of getting you down gently. Not plummeting.

“Tell Alpha,” Namjoon asks, directing your gaze back to him. Your cheeks cradled in both of his wide palms. You’re dimly aware of Seokjin ushering Hobi up onto the couch, but you stay right where you are.

Namjoon’s legs part wider, and you rest your cheek on his thigh, looking up at him. Even though he’s glowering down at you, you’ve never felt safer- here at the pack alpha's feet, within the careful circle of his long legs. Really- your alphas are all a force of nature, all so big and tall and strong. The kind of strength that makes you want to bear your throat and let them do with you what they want.

Those cops out there didn’t stand a chance. If this was the olden days, Namjoon wouldn’t have hesitated to get violent on your behalf.

He smells so good- you can feel and taste it on your teeth.

"No no no- no biting. Pup-" Namjoon catches you, his voice shifting from angry to exasperated. You don't know how you didn't realize that you'd subconsciously started to go and bite his thigh. Stopped at the last second by his hands, your teeth skimming the smooth silk taper.

It's not your fault, Namjoon is very nibbleable.

Jimin laughs, and even Namjoon can't resist cracking a smile- "just let her have a nibble Namjoon-"

“Tell Alpha what you did in the car.” Hobi whines loudly, and you know that words are hard for him. That it’s hard for him to talk when his mind is scrambled like this.

“Hoseok-“

“Puppy” Namjoon corrects.

“Puppy he- we just-“ You stutter, lost for words, and Namjoon waits for a breath longer before he leans forward. Reaching wordlessly between your legs. Your panties are still on, clinging to the dampness there. Namjoon sets his fingers over you and doesn't move them. You whine. He has to reach so far down that he's practically nose-to-nose with you.

“Do you want me to tell you what I think happened pup?”

You nod, your nose brushes his cheek, and he pets softly between your legs. You’re so sensitive that you can’t help but gasp a little. “I think you let the puppy put his little cock and knot in this sweet hole right here. I think you let him mount you where anyone could see. I think he gave it to you good and sweet because you’re both normally very good and very sweet and I think it made him very very happy to tease alpha like this.”

You know that Hoseok isn't really small- at least not by alpha standards. But compared to Namjoon, to the length that's all but vulgar in the way it's swelled in his slacks, the thin silk that clings to it- compared to that- Hoseok is quite small.

You shake your head, and Namjoon raises an eyebrow. “Oh? Did it happen differently? Did you make him beg for your cute little hole?”

“You- you said that he gave it- but he didn’t-“ Namjoon raises an eyebrow, stroking gently down the side of your face. “I was on top.”

Namjoon looks so fast at Hobi perched in Jin's lap he thinks it might as well have given him whiplash. Jimin’s hand in Hobi’s hair pulls tight, tilting his neck back so that Jin can nuzzle mindlessly into his scent gland. All while his hands drift up and down Hobi's hips, avoiding the one hot and hard place between his thighs, although Hoseok's cock twitches every time Jin's hands wander even the least bit close.

Everyone is quiet for a moment.

And then Jin flicks Hobi's cock, gently. But Hobi still jerks near violent. Like an alpha possessed. Unable to control the way his body contorts. His gasp loud, pained, but his cock doesn't flag at all- if anything- it only looks like he grows harder.

Jin does it again just to watch him sqirm and flinch. "Bratty little pup- making her do all the work. I thought my good little puppy alpha knew how to be a good packmate, or do you need another lesson? does alpha need to show you how to knot?"

Your hips twitch and the motion isn't missed, Namjoon looks back at you finally- “Oh? Do you want to show Alpha how you rode the puppy’s cock?” You stutter- confused at what he means, until Namjoon keeps his hand on your shoulder and tips up the edge of his dress shoe and taps the inside of your thigh.

"Go on pup, show me how you rode him. You haven't earned a real cock yet so you'll have to make due."

At this angle, you can grip his knee to your chest, can hug Namjoon's calf, and pull yourself up on your knees the same way you did in the car. You short circuit- and you don’t know how to continue until Namjoon pulls you closer by your shoulders, half bent over, so that your front sits against his leg, hot and thick and powerful.

Only then does he sit back and reach for the button of his slacks, popping it open. “Go on pup, you were so eager to show us earlier- don't get shy on me now"

You start, moving your hips in simple little circles at first. Shy. looking up at him for approval that you're doing it right. Namjoon tugs at your collar, guiding you until you find your rhythm with a deep pleased growl.

It feels strange to do it, especially with all of them watching you. As you set your pussy over Namjoon's shoe and start to move. It's good- even if it's humiliating, all of this talk and manhandling has left you sticky and sensitive.

“Wait,” Jin says, reaching down, craning to get his hand between your thighs, slipping under your panties and pulling back with wet glistening fingers.

It's not only slick but a bit of Hobi's cum too. Jin tuts, spreading his fingers. Showing Namjoon and Jimin the translucent and cloudy in places threads that connect the wetness on his fingers. You shudder as you watch Jimin lick his lips, and feel Namjoon vibrate with a growl.

"Don't even try it Minnie-"

Jimin pouts, plush lips catching the light, "Wasn't going to-"

Hoseok just growls. Namjoon taps your chin and you go back to getting off on his thigh, trying to hide your little gasps every time you get the drag right. You don't pay attention to the alphas, you just look at Jin and his fingers- watching and waiting to see what he'll do with them.

Jin continues on like he doesn't have 3 alphas bickering over his slick-coated fingers. "I don't think you'll have any more cum left for me puppy, might have to milk it out of you." Jin nearly purrs as he looks over to where you're currently making a mess of Namjoon's shoes, all wet and slick. Rubbing your cunt all over him without a care in the world.

"What a needy little omega I've got- taking all of it and leaving none for Jinnie."

"Didn't mean to didn't-" Namjoon's fingers pinch your cheeks until your words go muffled. All mean and almost laughing at you for it. You might cry with how wound up you felt.

"No fibbing my little pup- we both know you probably loved it when puppy made you wet and messy. You both had to show us."

Hobi's whimpers and squirming starts up again a new. You let out a soft whimper as Hobi strains and Jimin holds him, both his hands held behind his back, on his knees still so that Jin can have unrestricted access to his cock. He's squirmier than you. Teeth bared, still fighting.

Jin’s hand must feel very very good because no sooner is the pack omega putting his slick hand to Hobi’s cock than is he squirming harder than ever. Fighting to get closer, fighting for more.

Jin’s hands move up and down Hobi’s cock, as he eyes his gnashing teeth. Taking none of it- not the growls or the snarls or the whimpers to heart, just leaning his cheek on his clean hand while his other goes up and down over Hobi's cock. Your slick makes the glide smooth and easy as he fucks up and down slowly, stopping occasionally to rub under the head until Hoseok is panting until his hips can’t up and-

Jin takes his hands off with a flick of his wrist, almost animated, and Hobi jerks violently as his orgasm slips away.

You whine too, and Namjoon makes a questioning hum in his voice. 'Wanna see puppy get all messy, wanna see him make Jinnie hands all messy too- Jinnie has pretty hands don't you think so alpha? Pretty pretty Jinnie Jinnie- pretty."

Namjoon laughs, and lovingly strokes down your cheek. You blink away the words, babbling when you're unaware that you are is one of the cutest ways that your omega space presents. Namjoon doesn't think he'll ever tire of how honest you get when you start to go into omegaspace. The way your thoughts just come out all at once.

The tips of Jin's ears are red, and Jimin nuzzles into them. Jin's hand goes extra extra mean on Hobi the drag tight and wet and so good it makes him want to cry when Jin takes his hands away again. Namjoon eggs you on.

"There's my pretty little pup. I know you want to see our beautiful pack omega- but punishments are punishments for a reason pup. You both have to earn it." Jin flushes at Namjoon calling him beautiful but you almost don’t catch it, too busy rubbing one out on Namjoon's shoe and nodding. Agreeing with what Alpha says because your alpha is very very smart and very very trustworthy.

Your chest is tight, and you're breathing heavy until Namjoon guides you to rest your cheek against his thigh oh so close to his cock. to where his hand moves. Your breath goes easy and sweet, soothed. A tight knot in your chest all but unraveled. Your rhythmic movements as you grind against his pant leg and shoe background noise to your frizzled mind. Namjoon's got you- you don't need to think about whether or not it's time to cum because he will tell you when you can.

Just like Jinnie's doing with Hobi right now.

Jin stares at his pinking-up cock with that disapproving lilt to his eyes, all mean in the way that makes parts of you all melty. He waits for Hoseok's panting to go gentle before he starts up again. Just as slow and just as meticulously.

He goes like that, edging Hobi, bringing him just there, just a little more but always stops when Hobi’s tummy twitches and he grits his teeth. Jin can read his tells well- the wide panic in his face of an orgasm that comes on too strong, too fast, too quick.

Hobi's cock goes pink and then red after a few minutes. His taught muscles hard and shaking with the strength of his denied pleasure. Jin edges him again and Hobi's cock twitches, knot trying but failing to inflate on its own. Arms straining against Jimin's hold. Still fighting.

Jin won't let him cum until he gives up and goes pliant.

"No Hobi- a few more pup- and then you'll be forgiven." Hoseok is a good sub, you never would have known it, but he doesn't squirm after the first few- surrendering himself to Jin's touch and Jimin's quiet hold. You keep moving your hips under Namjoon's quiet guidance, your cheek resting on his thigh to watch, his own hand moving against his cock. Hard peeking out from the waistband of his slacks. Watching as Hobi gets more and more desperate.

It’s pretty- the way he jerks and moves- like the pleasure has a mind of his own. Sweat drips down his midline, and Jimin's fingers keep Hoseok restrained. Although you sense that's more just so Hobi feels him.

“Don’t cum without alpha’s say so puppy.”

Namjoon's thigh is warm under your cheek, “Yes alpha.”

His hands are in your hair, gentle. Holding you close and keeping you pressed against his thigh. “Are you close pup?”

“A little,” you admit. You're not really- but it does feel good enough that you know you could cum, if they left you to this for a few more minutes- if Namjoon praised you a little bit. You're hungry for it.

Namjoon growls, satisfied. “Go slower then, lean back so I can see. Show alpha how good you are."

You lean back on your hands and Namjoon watches, grinning. The flush on your cheeks is something he touches, something he pinches, while he works his cock and you ride. Namjoon eats up your small sighs and quiet hiccups of pleasure.

“Such pretty pups I have, such pretty little pups,” he croons, almost more to himself than to you. After watching a little He pulls you back to rest closer, more firmly between your thighs. “Just stay here and watch Jinnie take Hobi apart, will only take a few more minutes pup- can you keep from cumming until then?”

“Yes alpha, won’t cum, promise.”

“Good pup.”

Hobi’s trembling gets harder and harder with every edge. He must be nearing half a dozen by now. It gets even worse when Jimin snakes his hands around to the front and starts toying with his chest. It must be an alpha thing, because you're pretty sure he wouldn't have the same reaction if you tried it. Jimin flicks Hobi's small nipples, and his cock twitches, dripping fresh pre-cum that Jin rubs into his skin. So wet and slick it makes a sound.

He gives him a breather, but isn't much of a breather at all when his touch treads down, examining all of Hobi- every inch. Beyond a neatly trimmed touch of hair that you know must be Jin's handy work- he keeps all the alphas very well groomed- Tae and Namjoon shave- but Hobi and jimin keep themselves just nicely trimmed. Pretty.

"Did you leave any for your pack omega Hobi, or did you give it all to her little cunt? Did it feel good? Pup is so warm and wet all the time- I bet she made a mess first."

You whimper, and Namjoon hooks a thumb into your mouth to press the pad of his finger against your tongue, just keeping his fingers there. And you part your lips wider. His own fist still moving up and down around the head of his cock. So wide that even Namjoon’s big hands can hardly go around it.

You wonder if the slide is too dry- you could make it wet for him, the same way you did with Hobi. You suck, soothing the wild want in your chest.

Hobi's mouth finally cooperates, finally sorts through the mess of good puppy, good boy, have to be a good boy, as he jerks away from what surely would have been a painfully needed orgasm.

"Yes! I did, I just-" Jin flicks the head of Hobi’s cock again and he flinches so hard that Jimin has to scruff him, turning his body limp, and he gives a wet sob, there is no remnant of the alpha that teased you until you were shaking earlier. But if anything- it's just as alluring. You can't look away, can't decide what to look at, Namjoon's big cock just in front of your face- or Hobi’s tearful jerking as Jin denies him an orgasm once again.

("Can you do that to me eventually?" You'll ask eventually, tomorrow maybe. In the nest, soft, pressed to Jin's chest, the safest place in the universe for pups that are still coming up, still feeling the after-effects of all of all this submission. hazy and trusting and boneless at your edges. "What? Edge you? You want to try it?" and Jin will giggle, and nip at your nose playfully. "Careful what you ask for honey.") He cries, but you know that it’s not your job to worry about that right now. “Want alpha.” You say, hugging Namjoon’s leg to your chest like a lifeline. You’re not sure you could stand if you wanted to. The pleasure is secondary to the submission like this.

“Want alpha to make puppy full- want knot here" you touch your stomach, and every alpha in the room growls. "please alpha, knot-“ you babble, but break off the second Namjoon turns his disapproving stare back to you.

“No pup. Not tonight.”

You whine but Namjoon doesn’t do anything but continue to work his cock hard and fast. You open your mouth, eyes fluttering closed, and Namjoon’s thumb presses on your lower lip, sort of in warning, sort of in fascination.

For once you actually wouldn't mind sucking him off, not if it was like this. With you safely under Namjoon’s thumb. Before- blowjobs had been a source of anxiety and trauma for you. But right now- you are so neglected, so riled up and so far down in subspace that you want things you wouldn't ordinarily. Maybe if you're good alpha will-

Namjoon knows this, and stops you before you can bully your way between his legs. "No pup." You whine petulantly and Namjoon soothes away the tears at the corner of your eyes. "Don't act like I’m being mean, it wouldn't fit pup, your mouth is too small for me."

"But- but- Pup could try-"

Jimin’s tone is dark and when you look at him, he's glaring. "Alpha said no pup. I thought you wanted to be a good little pup."

Jin clicks his tongue, "Your size kink is showing."

They're chagrined but not really, Namjoon lifts up the heel of his shoe, far enough that the toe hits your clothed pussy again and you chirp, clinging to his thigh. "Don't-" you cut yourself off, distracted by the way that Namjoon's fisting his cock, Namjoon might be fucking massive- but it's also pretty and veiny, proportional. Pink at the tip and dewy. You’d stopped grinding. Too distracted. Too small-minded.

"If you stop grinding pup I stop touching, you don't want to deny both of your alphas their pleasure, do you? Don't you want to be good."

You do want to be good and you're plummeting. Your brain starts to hinge on Namjoon's every word, alpha pheromones thick and sweet in your throat as you nod and continue to grind against Namjoon's smooth leather shoe. You can't say it's not a good feeling.

Although your hole is already pink and oversensitive from Hobi’s knotting earlier. Your clit had remained neglected then- but not anymore. You drag it wet and twitchy, presses against the wet fabric that clings, over the leather and it does feel good, it does feel sweet.

You continue to grind one out as Namjoon works a hand up and down his cock. Faster now. He's long enough that if he directs it towards you, you can open your mouth and let him tap the head against your tongue.

He does do that, once, twice, and then again for good measure. Namjoon's hand moves faster and faster.

You know he’s done for when you flick your eyes from his cock, and then back up to his face. loling out your tongue. You want it- you want to taste that you make your alpha happy.

When Namjoon cums, it's all over your face and chest, the thin white tank top will easily be stained in places, ruined probably (a shame- since you're pretty sure it's one of Tae's. Your mommy alpha just might take you over her lap for ruining it) It drips down your collar bones and over the top of your chest in thick hot ropes. Namjoon always cums so much. You close your eyes but Namjoon is careful. Aiming most of it at your neck and scent gland. A bit of it gets in your mouth, lips parted, and Namjoon tastes salty and potent.

(Something, something deep in your body clicks finished at that, something that is neither instinct nor biology.)

Namjoon works his cock through his orgasm, fisting his knot that only swells part of the way without an omega around it clamped warm and tight. But still looks cute and puffy at the base of his cock when he lets go with a wince. Letting you nuzzle into it and press a little kiss there. After a few seconds with him breathing heavy and your hips stilling, he tugs you up onto the couch. Guiding you to sit with your legs apart, giving your sensitive and sticky hole a bit of a break.

Namjoon wraps his arms around you and holds you for a second. Still breathing heavy. Giving you a little squeeze. Behind you- Hobi lets out a broken whimper. He’s too tired to jerk anymore. Cock going from red to almost purple with the strength of his denied orgasms.

Jin stops for a second. Holding Hobi close too- Jimin hooks his chin over Hobi’s shoulder to look down at his angry-looking cock.

Namjoon sits you on his lap and parts your thighs for the others to see the mess you've made of your panties. Skimming the tips of his fingers up to your twitching clit. Guiding your underwear off. You know better than to try and close your thighs. Sagging openly back against his chest and letting him put you on display, without worrying, without thinking. Staring up at him with what you know must be a dazed expression. Namjoon is such a pretty alpha, all of your alphas are so pretty. Jiminie too-

You blink, and when you look, Jimin's cheeks are pink, so pink and flustered that he buries his face in the nape of Hobi's neck. And you know once again you've spoken without realizing you have.

Namjoon's eyes flicker down to his cum on your chest and he wipes it away with a groan, “I’m sorry pup. Alpha should have been more careful about not making you messy.” Jin hums, eyes flashing from you to Hobi and you get the sense that he and Namjoon are communicating without words. Jimin shifts restlessly behind Hobi, holding him less firmly- but he's boneless now, tamed, and stays prostate as Jin shuffles over to you.

There is a towel- from where you don't know- maybe Jimin got it preemptively when he went and retrieve your collars. But it's rough against your cheek as Jin diligently cleans you of the pack alpha's cum- not your chest- but at least your face.

"My poor little puppy, made messy from two alphas already tonight," you pout, nodding up at him. Your hands tangle in the front of his robe, pulling at it petulantly.

"M'empty," you say, a little petulantly, and you are, the hollow ache is there, and you have three perfectly good alphas to fill you. "Want cum, pup's been good? Good puppy?"

Jinnie pecks your nose, "best puppy. My poor little pup, you did so well for Joonie- I think you've earned a little knot," Hobi shuffles forward, perking up, ready for his reward but Jimin jerks him back by his collar again and you've never seen him look so crestfallen.

Behind him, Jimin squirms and you sense it coming when Jin turns to kiss Hobi’s forehead and detangles himself from Jimin. Hobi needs to settle and Jimin-

Jimin needs a reward. For being so good, for keeping Hobi still for the pack omega.

You can feel the alpha's eyes on your pink cunt, a little wet and slick from where you rode Namjoon's shoe still splayed over his leg, on display. Jin beckons you over to them and you push yourself up onto your hands and knees, no longer unsure as you crawl over to the pack omega. You know your chest still has cum on it, that you're still wrecked, you don’t mind it.

Alpha, your instincts hum, I smell like alpha.

Behind Hobi, Jimin watches you with beady eyes, murmuring out a soft "fuck."

“Puppy was so rude earlier, making our little omega do all the work- I feel like I've neglected his education- I’ve neglected to show you puppy how a real alpha breeds an omega.” Jin keeps a hand on Hobi’s collar to keep him from getting to you but he tries anyway.

“Pup,” you look back at him, hands between your legs, back arched, waiting perfectly for his instruction.

“Present for us, let Jiminie see your little hole.”

You know how to make presenting pretty, guided by instinct and the desire to see your pack omega fulfilled as you start to turn and situate yourself on your hands and knees. But as you turn you stop- Namjoon's already moving.

He moves across the room, pulls the ottoman out from where it's tucked sort of by the coffee table, moving it over just in front of them.

It's not a breeding bench, it's really not but- but it could be.

Anxiety bleeds down your chest. You've never used a breeding bench, you've seen them before of course but you've never-

"Don't know- don't know how- Alpha- what are you-"

Namjoon holds out his hand to help you stand. "Alpha will show you pup," You get on your feet, teetering, clutching at the edge of your shirt with an anxious thrum to your bones, but Namjoon- Namjoon's so good as he guides you.

You squirm, unsure, unsure because Jin and Jimin and Hobi are all looking at you and you're anxious about doing it wrong. You get onto the ottoman on your knees but resist it as Namjoon pushes you. You have no chance- you know you could never overpower Namjoon but the resistance makes him pause.

He wraps his arms around your middle, completely disregarding the mess of his cum still on your chest, smearing it without care as he holds you. Pecking your cheek, your lips, your mouth that parts in a needy whine.

"In the olden days, back when people used to use breeding benches to settle fussy omega's like you- they had straps and buckels to keep you presented. To keep you in place. Do you want something like that pup? Do you need it?"

You whine and nod, and Namjoon jerks his chin again, not at you but at Jimin.

You kneel there, partially hidden by the pack alpha, content to be held for a second. While Jimin goes to the other room.

The silk in Jimin's hands reminds you of some of Tae's ribbon, pink too- just like your collar, but braided and strong- it matches the color of your collar and you wonder when they got it. "Yoongi's better at this than I am." Jimin says as he starts to tie your ankles, splaying them apart on either corner of the ottoman. As Namjoon latches a leash to your collar.

You surrender yourself completely to their tugging, the loops that Jimin puts around your ankles, and the way that Namjoon splays your legs wider and then pulls the ropes tight- showing him how to do it, looping them around the legs of the ottoman.

Namjoon leaves your hands free, but it almost doesn't matter with how short the leash is, you can't even lift your chin up off the fabric. It takes them maybe 30 seconds to properly restrain you, and when you try to lift your head, to stop arching your spine- you find you can't move more beyond a little squirming.

Oh- oh. You like this, you like not being able to move, not being able to fight and squirm. It's like a collar only full body, it's like a collar only better.

"There we go- that's a good pup, that feels better right? All settled now?" You whimper, eyes rolling, you like this- you like being restrained.

Namjoon's fingers are long, long enough that he can pry your hole open and show Hobi just how pink and messy your hole is, a bit of cum- the last little bit probably- given how much you've already spilled. Slipping out and down to the nudge of your clit.

Namjoon presses it back inside, and you keen, no longer empty. It's momentary because Namjoon doesn't finger you for long, just checks, just checks that you're open enough to take Jimin's knot. Hot and clenching around his fingers. Worked up already you know you won't take much. You whine loud and petulantly- you know Namjoon already said he wouldn't knot you tonight and he'd surely have to prep you more but-

Utter bliss falls over you at the tightness of your restraints. Jinnie and Namjoon are such good pack alpha and pack omega, surely they know what's best, surely they know what you should do with the sweet pinking sensitivity between your legs.

It’s not up to you what happens right now or which alpha fucks and breeds you. It's so easy to let your head down and let go. To feel the bounds of your own control in the restraints. Embarrassed deep down but in the moment unable to do anything but obey obey obey.

Jin's command comes like a crack of thunder. "Alpha, mount."

Hobi jerks at the command, almost falling with how quick he tries and fails to get up from the couch, he gets another flick to his cock at that- and the attention leaves him near howling. Blinking away tears at the corner of his eyes.

"Not you mutt," Jin croons, affectionate even if the words are demeaning. He jerks his chin.

"Minnie, show the puppy how it's done, show him how my alpha's are supposed to breed their omega's and not the other way around."

Jimin shifts, sliding to the edge of the couch, tentative but eager. But Minnie- minnies got a knot, you know it's chubby and that it feels good.

Namjoon eggs him on, "Show him Minnie- show him how a proper alpha gives an omega their knot, I know I've taught you and Tae well."

The implications of that make your head spin, did namjoon show them? Did he set Jin or Kookie up on a bench like this and show them one after another how to fuck properly? How to make the drag sweet and with finesse? Your head spins at the idea of it.

But too soon for your fantasy is Jimin bullying his way between your thighs, Namjoon's hands guiding his hips to put it in. "There you go minnie, just like that, isn't she so warm inside? isn't the fit tight or did Hobi take that from you-"

"Still Tight- wet" Jimin pants out as your eyelashes flutter open in relief, making eye contact with Hobi, bearing his teeth, feral, and you realize Jin is having to put real effort into holding him back.

His growl is all the warning you get as Jimin sheathes everything he's got inside of you. Not so long but thick enough that it has you gasping, unable to breathe, eyes wide and body taught. Hands gripping the edge of the ottoman for something to hold onto.

Your reaction doesn't stop Jimin, and he sets about a diligent pace immediately. Setting an even rhythm, pulling out almost all the way every time he fucks in, pulling soft whines from you. It's slow- but every trust is firm and deep, grinding in, pulling you by your hips back onto his cock, hands fisting in your tanktop. all but using you to get off with how he forces you back and forth on it making you feel inch.

You have no control over the pase like this. The room drowns in the sound of your fucking, Jimin's groans, hobi's snarls. His alpha chaffed at another having what's his. You're so full and wet that it's overwhelming, and you cry out gently as Jimin fucks you harder, faster.

"That's a good alpha, just like that" Jin praises, and jimin's pace stutters and then goes firmer, more brutal. more eager to show off just how good he can fuck.

Before long he's chasing his own end, both of you so riled up that it doesn't take long. Jimin's good at concentrating even though you know he's close. The delicate pleasure between the two of you simmers until there is nowhere else for it to go and you close your eyes.

Jin murmurs something, and their hands are on you- guiding the towel underneath your tied-apart legs as Jimin pants. "hyung- hyung-" fingers digging into your sides.

"Please- please alpha- wanna- wanna cum, want- knot" You babble, but Jimin is a good alpha and gives you exactly what you ask for.

You open your eyes looking at jin and namjoon, waiting for permission, so close you might not be able to hold off if they don't give you permission to cum.

you watch as jin wraps a firm hand around hobi's knot, holding onto it hard- hard enough that he wouldn't be able to pup a knot at all. you don't realize it serves a purpose until he turns his eyes back on you.

"Puppies, cum."

The three of you jerk, flinching from it. Hobi's whine is so heartbreakingly disappointed that it would surely put you into distress if you weren't preoccupied with cumming yourself. You wonder if Hobi would have cum from just a command alone if Jin didn't have his hand hard around his knot.

Jimin’s knot is just as chubby and thick as the last time it stretched you out, you cum when he plugs you up, so gentle and like breathing- so good that you hardly twitch or tremble. It doesn't feel uncontrolled or too intense. It's just warm and right as you sigh and fall completely boneless at last. Jimin grinds it deep and then lets it rest there.

You feel like youre hearing jin and namjoon talk through water as you flutter down, "Did she squirt?" Jin asks, and Namjoon's close, by your side.

"No, I don't think so."

Jin hums, disatisfied.

You sniffle but Jimin's so polite with it, keeping his knot inside of you as he kisses down your spine, plastered to your back and teething at your neck, licking, soothing.

You spend the next few minutes in bliss waiting for it to go down, letting him pet up and down your sides, getting kisses to your ankles as Namjoon unties you. Jin pets up and down your warm cheeks- soothing your hiccuping breaths at being so full. hobi laps at your scent gland, teething at it soothingly.

You get picked up, still on Jimin’s knot, settled back down onto the couch next to Hobi so that he can plant slobbery kisses all up and down the nape of your neck, scruffing you a little (or at least trying too- it doesn’t really stick). Jimin isn't threatened by hobi's presence, they nudge noses and kiss too- just as involved. You're genuinly a little surprised that Jimin lets hobi muscle his way so close and nose under your chin.

But then you stiffen, tensing as Hobi's cock nudges where you're already stretched around Jiminie's knot. You pull back, a bit panicked. Jimin growls in warning.

"Can't fit- can't-" but Jin is already there- stopping Hobi's over-eager puppy space imaginations. (Taking two knots at once isn't something you think you can do- maybe…maybe after taking Namjoon's knot you could- you won't muse on that until later).

"Soon alpha, just be patient" Jin croons, petting up and over Hobi's stomach. Even that makes his cock twitch. Another edge and Hobi will cum. You know he will- Jin is saving it for the right moment.

His knot goes down eventually, and when he slips out, Jin is there. You decide that you love breeding benches, and you want one- a real one so that alphas can just tie you up just like that and leave you there for whenever they want you, so safe and at their mercy. You like it lots and lots.

Jimin has his face tucked into your throat when you come too. And Namjoon grins, a little feral at the idea of it, "Be careful what you ask for pup."

Jin is the one who guides you carefully off Jimin's knot once it's gone down. back into the same position you were in before, displayed in Namjoon's lap, your cunt pinker and more sensitive than before.

Jimin is sated and a little quiet after knotting. It's not going non-verbal- but no one encourages Jimin to speak as you're transferred from his lap to Namjoon's, Jin kisses Jimin's cheek and then yours, eyes darting down to look at your pussy and examining Jimin's handiwork.

“Clench down for me sweet thing, keep alpha's cum all safe in your little cunt- you can't waste it- he gave it to you so sweetly.”

“Trying- can’t-” You can feel it slip out, your entrance so stretched out from two knottings. It makes you panicky in a way that it surely wouldn’t if you weren’t in omegaspace. Can't lose it, alphas have to breed puppies, alphas can't-

Namjoon groans and rubs a hand over his face. And you know you've spoken without meaning too. Jin makes a tsking noise in his throat. And then something slenderer is there at your entrance. And Jin guides Jimin’s spent back into your hole, plugs it up, and keeps them safe there with three of his long nobbed fingers, rubbing up against something spongy that makes your toes go numb with pleasure, feeding it back into your sloppy cunt.

You grab his wrist, stopping him, "Can't, too much-" but it's the wrong move.

Jin does not take his hand out, he doesn't even stop rubbing up at your g-spot, rubbing slow circles inside of you. Fucked open by two knots tonight, you're so sweet and open on his fingers.

"But I thought you wanted to cum puppy? You begged for it earlier, why stop after just one?"

"Sensitive- too much-"

Jin bristles, and he only fingers you harder, pressing Jimin's cum further inside, fingers brushing that soft squishy place inside of you that opens only during your heats- the place so deep inside you that only Namjoon can penetrate. The place that makes you keen to be touched like that, your chirp high and needy.

"I am the one that decides when you've had too much, I am the one who decides when you can't anymore, or did you forget that puppy?" you sob and shake your head and let Jin keep going. Three fingers slipping in, stretching you wider.

"If you really want me to stop then say it, say it and I will." You sob but bite your lips and shake your head. And Namjoon actually laughs behind you. "See? Daddy knows best pup,"

Jimin turns back to life at that, groaning, leaning his head back against the couch. "Jin, I swear to god i'll get hard again if you make her call you daddy."

Namjoon huffs behind you and you cry and cry and tremble as Jin keeps working his fingers into you. Namjoon pecks the back of your neck. "too late minnie,"

When he wrenches his fingers out, a little bit of squirt comes with it, darkening the edge of his robe. He does it again and you let out a few more droplets and you start crying in earnest. If he touched your clit right now you don't know what would happen.

Jin doesn't, although the threat of it is there. He grins down at you, where you cry in Namjoon's lap. Hobi lets out a concerned whine and shuffles close.

"Say thank you puppy. Say 'Thank you Daddy for being right even though I thought I couldn't handle it.'"

"Thank you, Daddy" You sob out, sniffling, Jin grins and kisses your cheek after you finish repeating it back to him.

It gives him a sick pleasure, to edge one sub and overstimulate another at the same time. You sob and Hobi leans over to lick at the tears on your face, letting out a comforting grumble. He laps lower, where the pack alpha came earlier. He can surely taste it and he probably likes it.

There's still a bit of Namjoon's cum on your chest, turning your nipples glossy where the tanktop has been pulled low, stretched out by Jimin's tugging when he fucked you back on his cock.

Jin's eyes light up wickedly. Eyes darting to your cunt, still messy with Jimin's cum, slipping out despite his efforts because your pussy simply got knotted too wide.

Jin starts to guide Hobi toward you. His cock still bobbing, pressing instantly up his hard knot close to popping. He trembles where he sits on his knees, hands planted on the couch watching you with beady almost animal eyes. Hair falling over his eyebrows. Lips pulled back around a snarl.

You wonder if this is what Hobi's like during a rut.

"Good puppies clean up alpha's messes." Hobi whines and tries to pull back, but he's never been able to beat Jimin in a fight, and now is no different. Especially when the other alpha tugs on his collar and grinds his own hard cock onto the cleft of Hobi’s ass. Jin hooks his fingers into Hobi's collar and guides him closer to where you squirm in Namjoon's lap. The pack alpha laughs meanly.

"What? Getting shy now? You were so eager to show us earlier- won't you give us a demonstration?"

Jin tugs Hobi’s collar when he doesn’t immediately obey. Jin's hair is fluffed up at the side, maybe where Hobi scented him a little rough and clumsy. You know what it's like to need Jin's scent to keep you steady.

"Here's your choice Hobi, you can either clean up Namjoon's cum off of our pup's face and Jiminie's cum from her cunt and I’ll let you cum in the pup's cute little hole. Or you can stop now and go to sleep without cumming and Jinnie will fuck you in the morning."

Hobi growls, as if the idea of the pack omega fucking him and not the other way around is too much for his instincts to handle. He shimmies forward, eyes dark, so far down in puppy space or alpha space or whatever you want to call it that his instincts are right there right at the forefront.

but hobi is practically wagging his tail, bright eyed and eager, "calm down puppy, you'll do it without knotting her- but jinnie will let you cum,"

Hobi's so excited he doesn't even whine, letting out a happy little sound- it's not really a bark but-

You're blushing so hard that you can't stop the headrush, “Isn’t it a little gross?"

It’s Jimin who answers, shaking his head and grinning “Not at all, it’s like-” Jimin breaks off for a second, touching gently down Hobi’s spine. “Tae would have better words for it but- it feels like our instincts swallow each other- when we take you down together it's like- alpha bonding."

Jin swats at his arm, “only you would turn cumswapping into something romantic.”

“Hyung” he whines.

Hobi can do little more than growl in response and jerk against Jimin’s touch, it's a good thing Jin has Hobi held tight. Otherwise, you have no doubt he'd take you right here right now.

You whimper, and Namjoon rubs a soothing hand down your side, pulling up the hem of your shirt so that Hobi can see your tummy so that he can set a possessive hand over it. "Don't you want to put your cock right here pup? Come on- be good for alpha, come get your treat."

You close your eyes,

Hoseok’s tongue is warm and wet, laving, lapping easily over your face, down your chest, gentle at first warm puffs of air, up and down cleaning you efficiently of the pack alpha's cum.

But then the bite comes, the pain sharp but needed to ground you, as you gasp and move away- only to be held still by Namjoon. He left marks- two circles just over your breast, another dark mark on your collarbone.

"Gentle puppy, you can nibble but be gentle" Hobi continues like that, lapping and nibbling and biting, leaving marks on your chest, your stomach, the tops of your thighs up and down the inside of them. Namjoon hooks an elbow under your knee as Jin holds Hobi to your hole by his collar.

"Don't cum pup, even when he licks your clit, you're not allowed too until I say so." Your hair bounces when you nod, close to crying again.

Hobi leaves his teeth marks on either side of your thighs, biting hard enough that you know they'll be bruises tomorrow. You tremble, and it hits you with a zing as Hobi sets his tongue flat over your clit. "Can't- gonna-"

"You'll hold off pup." Jin's tone is that of no-nonsense. Hobi licks you again messy, lost to the taste, and you jerk harder. Pussy clenching.

"Can't" you stress. Sobbing again in desperation as Hobi cleans you. Pressing sloppy kisses over your hole, lapping inside to clean you of Jimin's cum. Laving his tongue up and over your clit searching for more of your taste.

You tremble and somehow manage to keep off, probably because Jin only lets Hobi get one or two good licks in before he's tugging him up onto his knees, guiding his cock close for his reward.

"Remember no knots, but you can cum puppy," you sob through the sensitivity as hobi breaches your tender entrance, Namjoon petting up and down your stomach to soothe you.

Hoseok doesn't last, doesn't even last long enough to get in you fully before he's cumming. All Jin has to do is praise him a little more and stroke his knot once and then again and he’s soaking your entrance with ropes of thinner cum. Hobi jerks through it, abs trembling and head hung low with a loud whine. Jimin holds around his waist loosely to keep him from plugging you up with his knot.

It's so- it's so messy without that. When he pulls back, his cum slips out almost immediately. Dripping down to your other hole- all over you.

Someone kisses the wetness at your lower lash line. Eyes closed. You're not sure who it is. Maybe it doesn't matter.

"My Messy puppies." Jin croons, stroking a loving hand down your cheek. You open your eyes.

Jimin laughs and leans over apparently not one to be outdone as Jin whispers sweet nothings into Hobi's ears. Jimin is just as emboldened, He shimmies onto the floor, grinning all the while.

The sight of Jimin between your legs smiling, his hands tilting your hips up forcing your legs wider- tips you over an unseen edge. You're already trembling as he leans forward to lap at your cum soaked clit, pressing his tongue flat there to repay Hobi's favor of cleaning it out of you.

Jimin giggles as he pulls back, and leans in to give it a little kiss.

Alpha's are so filthy.

Your orgasm washes over you, unseen, unbidden, you really couldn't tell them where it came from- but your legs are shaking and your hole clenches wildly- you squirt all over Jimin's face, spilling even more of Hoseok's cum and-

"M'sorry 'm sorry- didn't mean to alpha- was just-"

You cry freely, so worked up, needing catharsis and settling. Jin coos, cupping your cheek. And Namjoon lets out a soothing growl as he scents across the top of your head. Holding you hard as you cry and cry and cry.

Hobi just watches, a little dead to the world and swirling down from his orgasm to be of much help. Held tightly by Jin, Resting his cheek against your shoulder and nosing into your scent gland. Jin’s arm around his waist keeps him supine.

"Oh pup, it's okay, all is forgiven."

You keep crying shaking your head, "Baby pup was bad- Minnie kissed and- and puppy- bad-"

But your tears just down stop, you're not really making sense but Jin shushes you anyway. Hobi tilts his head, whining loudly. Apparently non-verbal this far down in puppy space but not willing to let his omega go unsoothed.

Namjoon's cool hands on your face bully away most of your tears. "It's alright- it's okay-" You're overwhelmed from cumming basically untouched. Overwhelmed by being disobedient. Jin just told you- just told you not to cum and you did anyway.

"Was bad- was bad, daddy told me not to cum and I- couldn't- couldn't help it" You're crying plummeting into an unhappy place that Jin and the others surely don't want you to be in.

Jin takes your face in his hands. "Okay okay- how about this?" You hinge on every word. Nodding eagerly for any solution. So far down that only their words make sense. Not the tightness in your chest. The want- the need to be good.

Jin’s voice is a low purr. “Joonie is gonna give your pussy 10 good spanks, and then after that alpha will kiss it better and you’re forgiven. If you cum during that you're allowed, and after- the scene is done. You're forgiven. And there will be no more punishment or cumming.”

You nod and relax back into Namjoon's hold, the pack alpha picks you by your knees,draping them on either side of his thigh. keeping them wide. Letting your breathing calm down, Hobi ducks low to nuzzle at your shoulder, nipping, teething more gently this time almost ticklish making you giggle.

"Is this what you meant when you asked us to fuck it out of you?"

You nod weakly, Hobi continues to nibble at your jaw until Jin pulls him back.

You do need a spanking; your alphas are so smart- they know exactly what you need. You need more of a punishment. Maybe a defined moment where everything goes from bad to good. A solid transition from bad pup to good pup and not the back and forth that you've been doing for the last...2 hours?

Has it really been that long? have you really been fucking them for that long?

"Are you ready pup?" You nod against his throat, sort of sleepy.

Namjoon sits up straight and sets you up so that he can look down at you while he restrains you in much the same way that Jimin restrained Hobi. Hobi- who sprawls out on the couch now, all tension in his body gone, nuzzling sleepily into Jin's thighs, between his legs a bit. Maybe this is also a treat for Jimin- for being good- for helping settle the two of you.

You're too busy watching to catch the first discend of Namjoon's palm, You yelp and shoot a couple of feet into the air, but your cunt throbs hard. Warm and wet, the loud slap echoes in the house. And you try to close your legs.

Namjoon keeps them apart, his big hands dimpling in the chub of your thighs. He only lets go when you stop fighting him. Jin smiles, setting his chin on his elbow to watch. Hobi's hand sneaks under his robe. Pawing at the pack omega.

Namjoo taps between your legs again and you jerk from the loud sound. It's gentle but the tingle comes first, the pleasure second. "Two" he purrs in your ear. Growing more confident as your scent swells sweeter. Jimin and Jin recline to watch, the pack omega crossing one leg over Jimin's and curling to his side before reaching down a hand to scratch at Hobi's stomach. Hobi's tongue lolls out.

Namjoon hits your clit fully on the third tap and you shoot almost a foot into the air with how sensitive you are, crying freely. It's good- so good, the sudden shock of contact, the hurtling feeling of his soothing touches as he strokes up and down your stomach.

"More." You ask, and your doms laugh at you as you squirm. "Please alpha."

You cum on the ninth spank, twitching and crying and squirting all over Namjoon's thigh while he croons and praises you through it. It’s not as much as you usually squirt, a pitiful amount really, just a dribble. You try to close your legs again but they don't let you, Jin and Jimin hold them open one a piece. Namjoon's teeth nibble at the nape of your neck, and your eyes roll back.

Namjoon slaps your cunt just once more, spanking the last little bit of squirt out of you through your wet sobs. The pleasure is so intense you think you might black out for a second.

When you come too, you’re crying and Jin is at your front holding your face in both his hands, shushing your sobs.

"Good pup, good babygirl- did so well us, for me. What a good pup we have giving us all of it.”

“M’ sorry m-’” you’re shaking, trembling sort of violently, you need- you need them close; you need all of them so close you can’t breathe around the need for it.

Jin bares his teeth, “Good pup, come to daddy, I’ve got you my sweet little thing, I’ve got you. That was a big one, wasn’t it?” Jin's got you sandwiched between him and Namjoon, pressing you so firmly between the two of them that you can feel it in your ribs. You nod, still crying.

“Too big? Too intense? Oh, my poor little pup with her big cummies. Joonie is so mean making you make a mess like that and turning your cute little cunt all pink, here let me see, come sit with Jinnie and I’ll make him kiss it better.”

You sniffle, still coming down. You get manhandled into position for some much-needed aftercare.

Aftercare is a bit of a blur. You doze and Your oversensitive and spanked hot cunt gets draped over Jin’s thigh. And a liberal amount of soothing touches get dispensed up and down your back, your face, rubbing away your tears with an errant tongue, a cool wet cloth. A soft kiss from each of your alphas (Hobi’s does get a little slobbery). You sniffle and surrender yourself to their fussing gladly.

You hardly stir when Namjoon presses a gentle kiss to your pussy, too feather-light to garner much of a reaction beyond a hiss of sensitivity on your part. Your knotted entrance flutters. Puffy and pink and too enflamed to cum again, at your limit.

Hobi's collar stays on- but yours gets taken off, a cool cloth rubbed up and down your neck and the rest of your skin. Cleaning you efficiently and truly this time. You'll need a long bath- but you'll probably sleep through it.

The next time you're lucid Jin gets you a small tin of cookies and guides Hobi to kneel on the floor again. Sit and stay- like a good boy. He snaps up each of them and happily licks at your fingers, sloppy, in puppy space, as you feed him his good pup treats (that are really just cookies) you giggle, high, cute. still in omegaspace and oh so softminded. hair mused, cheeks round and pink as you watch hobi.

"What do you say pup?" Jinnie guides.

You giggle again, "Good puppy?" Hoseok's hips sway, miming as if his tail was wagging.

"Show us your tummy Hobi- play dead, good boy. What a good boy."

After that, you're guided to lay down on Namjoon, right next to Hobi. Both of you need your pack alpha right now as you sniffle and press closer. Pressing your nose to the hollow of his throat, the inches of honey chest revealed by his unbuttoned shirt. Trying to get more of him as Hobi rubs his whole face against Namjoon’s stomach. Namjoon smells soothing and musky, the exact opposite of how he smelled when you walked through the door.

And before long, you need a hole check.

You’ve begun to doze between Namjoon and Hobi when A cool touch is dispensed over your inflamed lips and twitching clit that Jin only barely pulls at meanly until you whine desperately. But it's just him. Just the pack omega inspecting you and making sure you're all right, that you're all clean. Checking your hole for any evidence of too much hurt.

Jimin bullies his way behind you, hand sneaking under your thigh, "Here hyung, I’ll hold her up so you can give her some cream."

"What a good alpha Minnie, thank you." Hiccupping out your protests as you remain between your three alphas, pliant, at their mercy. The three alphas piled around you and Jin working to groom you clean and satisfactory. All of you smell warm and safe and happy.

“How did the meeting go?” Hobi's voice is crackly from disuse, from all that growling. Jin stills, and you sense that some sort of conversation is happening over your head. You’re too tired to figure it out- Content to doze.

“They weren’t happy,” Namjoon says. Your pack omega hums, soothing, and someone combs through your hair, you nudge Namjoon’s fingers with your nose and he keeps talking. “I really really wanted to quit outright but then they asked me what was the minimum amount of work I’d stay on for even just for the short term and-”

Namjoon pauses, sighs, starts again.

“I’ll go in 2 days a week, offer a second opinion on cases remotely when I can, I know it’s not what we hoped for but it’s still a lot better than almost 6 days a week.”

You wrap your arms around Namjoon’s waist and go back to sleep. already dreaming about how how good it's going to be to have your alpha here all the time- every day with you and Tae Tae and Jinnie and-

You doze going in and out of sleep falling back off again just as quickly as you came up. You sense you're missing time, falling in and out of sleep too quick.

One moment he's not there and then the next he is.

Yoongi.

You know he must have been there for longer, must have been there for closer to a few minutes than a few seconds. All you can do is hold onto his sleeve, it must be a dream- because in real life Yoongi is still mad at you and wouldn't let you cling to his front like this. You keep your eyes closed, keep your nose buried in his throat. You don't want to wake up.

You can feel his words against your front as he carries you upstairs, "Which bubble bath? Bubblegum or unscented?"

"Unscented please baby, I can do it if-" whoever's talking breaks off.

"It's okay, I've got her. It's not like she's going to let go of my shirt anytime soon anyways, but maybe- the bath?"

Namjoon is close, a hand on your back, offering his strength incase Yoongi needs help carrying you. "I've got it."

Yoongi says something, and your pace changes, he bobs a little as he carries you up the stairs.

You can't stay awake no matter your best efforts as you're carried up and up and up. Namjoon and Yoongi and everyone close. Everyone is there on the fringes of your awareness. The sound of sloppy slow kisses and running water lulls you to sleep peacefully. For a second you think you feel something against your hairline. You think you hear a murmur. But it's probably just a dream.

A really good dream.

(Probably)

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Notes:

Weird take but i actually love the near even split in the first few lines of the chapter where hobi and the m/c are kinda like- going back and forth between each of their perspective. like i think it gives a very nice contrast of what they're both going through. this background came about while i was editing because i felt lik the chapter was missing stuff without it.

i think this chapter started to touch on a very real fear alot of people have when they come out of abusive relationships- that they will somehow end up emulating their abusive partners because they once rationalized their behavior as normal- the m/c gets this and is trying to change her behavior- or at least not act a certain way. she does not want to manipulate them into not being angry at her.

"walk him like a dog"- jin probably.

i do not think that the m/c falls into puppy space along with hobi, like it's just omegaspace, but i do think that it's cute that she tries so hard to be like him.

in my mind the pack have realized by now that the m/c is very very good at riding cock- like not to brag or anything but i bet she's a pro- they've gossiped and talked about it and gushed about it to each other enough times that when namjoon and jimin and jin hear that she rode hobi they are /very/ jealous- because they do not ask her to do it often simply because she does not like being on top enough. And her pleasure >>> their pleasure.

For some reason this chapter had a higher than average score on grammarly for correctness? but i feel like some of the language in it is just a little jerky? It is what it is but idk why i grammarly's score never makes sense. I usually aim for mid 80's, but this was in the small 90's. I rely on it alot because of my dyslexia.

Namjoon- asking questions, m/c- but what if i bit you instead????

Don't tease me about my size kink or i'll cry, i know i use the word little too much but listen!!! i love it!!! too much! i wish i could get fucked by a 6'7' alpha with a coke bottle cock and thrown around like a little treat. most of my kinks are not about the actual kink but more about the trust and protectivness aspect of it. i just love the idea of fucking someone who is just so physically in control but gentle anyway that i don't have to think about it.

my main issue with this chapter is that honestly? no smutt needs to be this long like what the fuck-

honestly i think that the m/c goes into a bit of a subdrop there after she cums untouched or just from having her clit kissed by minnie, but everyone else remedies it. i also think that it shows how good of a dom jin is- that he's so easily able to pivot once she starts to go into subdrop.

Are you guys tired from reading all that? i know i'm tired? honestly that felt like three seperat chapters- gangbangs are so hard to write i swear to god i need such a break after that

the words cummies stayed in the final draft mostly because i am just a weak little bunny and i wanted to include it- you can't get that mad at me because it's only there once.

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atimeofyourlife · 11 months ago

Text

Sharing a night in a shitty apartment

written for @steddieholidaydrabbles prompt: only one bed | rating: t | wc: 756 | tags: pre-steddie Steve offered to let Eddie stay at his place in the aftermath of Vecna. But forgets to mention its a shitty apartment with only one bed.

For the first time since moving, Steve was thankful that the communal areas of the apartment block were poorly lit. It was something that he, and his neighbors, had raised to the landlord multiple times, but it never got fixed. But now, the darkness gave the perfect cover for him to smuggle Eddie into his apartment, for a place to lay low until Dr Owens and his band of government goons swept into town to clean up the mess caused by the Upside Down. Something that didn't help, was that they were both injured and he had a fourth floor walk up.

He fumbled for his keys to unlock the door, and they both made their way in to collapse on the couch, not even caring that they hadn't changed since coming out of the Upside Down. When Steve could think a little more clearly, he would be happy that he had an old and ugly couch that he kept covered with a blanket.

"I don't want to sound ungrateful or anything, it's really cool of you to let me stay with you. But when you said I could hide out at your place, I thought you meant Loch Nora. Not this... cozy set up you have with far too many fucking stairs." Eddie said after he'd had a chance to catch his breath.

"My parents sold up the place in Loch Nora, five, six months ago. And didn't extend an offer for me to move with them. This is what I could get on short notice, and on my Family Video salary." Steve explained.

"Shit, your parents suck." Eddie replied, stretching out. "Any chance of a shower, I feel gross after a week on the run."

"Yeah. Bathroom's over there, the door on the left. Just try not to take too long, the hot water is temperamental, and I need to shower off the Upside Down too."

"I get it, dude. I live in a trailer. Sometimes we're lucky if we get five minutes before the hot water shuts off." Eddie said, pulling himself to his feet. "At least the bats didn't get me as much as they could have."

"Let me just wash the dirt off my hands, and I'll find you a towel and some clothes." Steve went into the bathroom first, spending much longer than usual scrubbing his hands clean. Once he was done, he pulled a towel out of the closet. "Feel free to use any of the soap and shampoo and conditioner. I'll leave some clothes outside for you. Just don't lock the door, it sticks."

Steve went into his bedroom, pulling out sweatpants, t-shirts, and underwear for each of them. He knocked on the bathroom door as the shower cut out. "Eddie, I've got some clothes for you."

A few seconds later, the door opened and Eddie stuck his hand out. "Thanks Harrington."

Once Eddie was done with the bathroom, Steve took his chance to shower off the Upside Down. He then gathered their clothes, towels, and the blanket off the couch into a pile, ready to take to the laundromat. Or burn, maybe.

He found Eddie in the bedroom, trying to look like he hadn't just been snooping.

"I think I'm going to turn in. The most sleep I've got this week was in an armchair in the Wheeler's basement. I doubt you feel much better." Steve said as he pulled back the covers on his bed.

"Yeah. Um, do you have a spare pillow and blanket or something? I can go set up on the couch." Eddie offered, looking uncomfortable.

"Oh, shit. No, you're not sleeping on the couch. It's way too small and uncomfortable. We can share the bed, as long as you don't steal the covers." Steve replied, patting the space next to him.

Eddie looked at him hesitantly for a long moment, before climbing in next to Steve.

The next morning, Steve woke to Eddie practically on top of him. Something about the weight was calming to him, holding off the state of panic he usually found himself in for weeks after an encounter with the Upside Down. And he'd slept much better too, the nightmares that he always got in the aftermath not making their appearance yet. He knew they should get up, to be ready to regroup and face whatever happened next. But he felt too at peace to let the world bother him in the moment. So, instead, he snuggled deeper into Eddie's embrace, and allowed himself to doze back off.

#steve harrington #eddie munson #steddie #steve harrington x eddie munson #steve x eddie #pre steddie #steddieholidaydrabbles #only one bed #atimeofyourwrites

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megamindsecretlair · 8 months ago

Text

Foolish

*Heed warnings*

Pairing: Jatemme Manning x Bratty!Black!Fem!/ Plus Size reader

Warnings: 18+, Minors DNI, You are in charge of your own reading experience. Intentional use of AAVE. PWP, Filth, cursing, PIV, size kink, mentions of violence, gun use, drug use, brat reader. Reader does get turned on by violence, if this disturbs you click away. All consensual. Established relationship. Heavy use of n-word.

Summary: You are tired of being Jatemme's arm candy. Forever guarded and without 100% of his attention. As the race for Alderman heats up, you're at a fundraising event when you grow bored and decide to test Jatemme's devotion.

Word Count: 3,494k

A/N: I was a little unhinged writing this, so it was written in a bit of a daze. Please let me know what ya'll think about this one. I can't find the ask where people expressed interest so don't be mad at me if I didn't tag you! I'm sorry! I'm also not married to the moodboard, so it might change. Please, please consider commenting and reblogging to help support writers! And please put ages in bios! Or get blockt!

Taglist: @planetblaque @blowmymbackout @browngirldominion @sageispunk @harmshake @amethyst09 @ciaqui @we-outsiiiide @iv0rysoap @thecookiebratz @blackerthings

You were bored. Just because you told your man to leave you alone, didn’t mean you actually wanted him to do it. Why couldn’t niggas ever listen? What’s so hard to understand? “Leave you alone” obviously meant to give you attention?

You were at a fancy event for Jatemme’s brother, Jamal, who was running for Alderman. Snooze fest. Jatemme promised that you weren’t going to be here long. That you’d only have to sit like a doll for an hour tops, before he took you shopping and out to eat.

One hour turned to three and you were still sitting at Jamal’s table, surrounded by Jatemme’s crew while Jamal and Jatemme did business. You scanned the room for your man but didn’t find him.

You did see Jamal who was hard to miss. He was the type to walk into the room like he owned it and as if everyone owed him money for it. Jatemme was quieter, but deadlier. He instantly drew you in with his sleepy eyes, soft umber skin, and intense presence. His darkness called to something within you and never let go.

The relationship wasn’t without its up and downs. You liked to keep him on his toes. Get him to have a little fun. He always followed in Jamal’s shadow when it was Jatemme that did most of the work. Most of the planning. Most of the ideas.

You sighed, loudly once more, and turned briefly to your table to sip your nasty ass champagne. Fucking politicians. Pretending like they weren’t all into something dirty, getting over on the little guy. Namely Black folk.

Jatemme’s crew gave you funny looks. They knew better than to touch you or stare too hard. But you often caught them looking at your body and your too short dresses. They also hated your attitude. Jatemme made you swear to stop messing with them. It was hard to find good help when you were constantly flirting with them and he was constantly killing them over it.

Maybe that was Jatemme’s problem. Now that Jamal was running for Alderman, there was a public scrutiny on the family business. Jatemme doesn’t have free rein to do as he pleased now. Go wherever he wanted. Do whatever he wanted.

You sighed once more and checked your phone. You texted your best friends in your group chat, that you were bored and in desperate need of fun. Misty immediately texted you back and told you to meet them at a club not too far from there. That was exactly what you needed.

You looked over at the crew of four burly men and stood up. One of the them, Martin, stood up as well prepared to follow you. “No need, Marty, I’m just going to the little girl’s room,” you said and smiled sweetly.

Martin gave you a blank stare. He adjusted the suit jacket over his thick arms and put his hands in his pockets. “You know the rules,” he said.

You kept your sweet smile, knowing that your lips were glossed just so to catch the light overhead. That your champagne colored dress hugged your figure just right. The night was young and you were wasting it by being arm candy.

“You gonna follow me into the bathroom and hold my purse too? I don’t think Jay would like that,” you sang.

Martin looked towards the other men who looked everywhere but at him. They did not want that particular smoke. Decisions, decisions. Martin cleared his throat. “Come right back,” he said.

You smiled. “Of course. You all act like I’m not an angel,” you said. The men wisely didn’t comment. You turned and sashayed out of the room, already done with the entire night. You didn’t see your man and you didn’t care at the moment.

You waited until you left the hotel ballroom before pulling out your phone. You ordered an Uber on your way out to the front. People from the reception had spilled out into the hallway, discussing things that they didn’t want others overhearing, even by accident.

You passed by stick figure women in dark red, blue, or black dresses, pointy shoes, and stiff upper lips. You passed by men in their penguin suits, pretending to give a shit. The total wealth combined in the room could help everyone in the Ward but they held onto it like gremlins.

It made you sick.

You went outside, shivering slightly from the bite of cold. When your Uber arrived, you didn’t even look back towards the hotel. It was almost criminal how easy it was to slip your chains. Further proof that this shit was getting stale and you might be headed towards another break from Jatemme. Let him sit and stew over what he would miss before he came crawling back with gifts, kisses, and that big dick of his.

You grinned as you texted Misty that you were on your way. She texted back with plenty of emojis, some of them skulls, because she already knew that Jatemme was going to blow his lid. Let him.

It didn’t take long to reach the rougher areas of Chicago. Almost literally down the street from the glitterati, the houses weren’t as nice. The grass not so green. Fences and bars on the windows. Corner boys selling dope in baggy jeans and oversized T-shirts.

The club was set back from the street to allow for a little more parking. You got out and Misty met you outside. She hugged you with many squeals and jumping up and down. “Slipped the doom patrol?” She asked.

Misty was gorgeous, with deep, dark skin and microbraids twisted into two buns atop her head. She was a thick, curvy girl who was always quick with a laugh. She immediately ushered you inside. You turned off your phone. Make Jay sweat a little bit.

You spent the entire night dancing with your girls and getting drunk on your favorite drink. All of the songs were hitting, back to back. A mix of 2000s and 2010s music. The good shit that demanded you dance right this instant.

Plenty of dusty ass niggas tried to pull you into a dance and you pushed them all away. It cost to put hands on you. It cost to be in your presence. Ain’t nobody getting shit for free.

By the time the club called for last drinks, you were tapped out. You were not wearing the proper shoes for dancing in the club. You were shocked that you lasted as long as you did. And yeah, you missed your man. You were a little drink, a lot horny, and you just wanted to be fucked at this point and put to sleep.

You walked out, hanging onto your friends. One of them, Kiki, was the lightweight. She was dragged between two friends while she muttered something. You giggled and walked with them to their car.

Rounding the corner, there were a group of guys passing a joint between them. They wolf-whistled as you passed by. One of them sure was fine. Tall, bald, with a thick luscious beard that covered the lower half of his face. You wondered what he’d look like with your juices dripping from it.

You didn’t condone cheating. But if you were on a break…

You smiled at him as you passed, tossing your hair over your shoulders. “Gahh damn, lil mama, where you headed?” He asked.

You giggled and kept walking with your girls. It was nice to be wanted. You turned your phone on while your friends tried to get Kiki into the car and not entertaining the men by the building.

As it turned on, messages flew in with loud dings and flashes across your screen. You had…quite a lot of missed calls from Jatemme. Angry texts too. You appreciated that he never called you out of your name when he was angry, but he had plenty of other colorful ways to show his displeasure. Like calling you by your real name. Ew.

He was good and pissed that you left. That your phone was off. He promised hell, fire, and damnation when he finally caught up to you. You pictured him driving around fuming. His sleepy eyes narrowed even further. The cute way his nostrils would flare and the vein that pulsed in his neck.

You were getting wet just thinking about it. The sex would be immaculate tonight. You sighed dreamily as you went through his unhinged text messages.

“Bitch! Help? Hello?” Misty called out. You giggled and moved towards the car, pushing at Kiki’s big ass head to get into the car. Misty slammed the door in her face and sighed as if she’d been wrestling a bear.

She faced you with a small grin before her eyes darted behind you. The sexy bald headed man approached you, licking his lips and looking you up and down. He held out his hand when he was near enough.

“I had to come introduce myself,” he said.

“I appreciate that. But I’m too high-maintenance for you, boo,” you said. You flirted with the idea of being responsible for another man’s death, but he was too cute to sacrifice for your own dastardly enjoyment. There were so few, gorgeous Black men these days. The 90s had all the fine men. They were long gone now. God just wasn’t building them like that no more.

“I like a little high-maintenance,” he said.

You laughed. Said no man ever. “I’m the type to empty accounts,” you said and smiled.

“I got several. Pick one,” he said. He looked you in the eye as he said it and made you reevaluate him as a whole. He was dressed nice in dark plaid slacks, black polo, with a big watch on his wrist. Nothing too flashy, but enough that it convinced you he wasn’t another broke nigga.

You were considering his offer, wondering how you could prove that he was for real and not just trying to get into your panties. Squealing tires tore your gaze away from the man as you saw Jatemme’s truck flip a bitch into oncoming traffic and speed into the parking lot.

“Shit. You better run before my man catch you talking to me,” you said, though he probably already saw you.

“I ain’t scared,” the man said. Bless his little heart.

“Nigga, I’m trynna protect you. Leave, now,” you said, shooing him away from you and your girls. Maybe you could convince Jatemme that the man was trying to flirt with Misty. You turned behind you, but Misty held her hands up.

“I ain’t trynna die for your Black ass,” she said.

“Bitch!” You screamed, but you couldn’t stay serious for long. You grinned and shook your head. Before the truck had a chance to come to a full stop, Jatemme and crew hopped out, grabbing guns from their waistbands.

“They got guns!” Someone called out. The parking lot emptied with a speed only achieved in the hood. Too many people who knew the consequences of a stray bullet and weren’t trying to lose their lives over it. Some brave souls remained, peeking behind cars and around the building into the additional parking in the alleyway.

You couldn’t help it. Your thighs tingled. Your heart skipped a beat seeing Jatemme climb out of the driver’s seat with that slow, menacing gait of his. His eyes were glued on you as he walked towards you.

The cutie remained, like he would really stand in front of a bullet for you. You couldn’t give him any more warnings. You couldn’t save him from his own stupidity. Jatemme stopped a few feet in front of you.

His face was deceptively calm. He crossed his arms in front of him, Glock on display. His crew formed a formidable wall behind him. Martin sported a darkening bruise on his cheek and you only felt slightly bad for getting him into trouble. At least he was still alive. That was something.

You bit your lip and giggled nervously. “Hi, baby,” you said.

“Did he touch you?” Jatemme asked. His voice. God, you could listen to that voice recite the dictionary and you’d listen to every word.

You shifted your footing. “Nope. Never seen this man before,” you said.

“Aye, if you’re in trouble…” The man said. Martin, being the closest, lifted his gun into the man’s face. The gun was pressed to his temple and the man audibly gulped.

“Did he touch you?” Jatemme asked once more.

You looked him in the eye. “No.”

“Get the fuck out of here,” Jatemme said to the man. The man looked at you, but you knew better than to acknowledge his presence. You heard his friends calling for him, telling him not to be a hero, not to lose his life over some bitch.

The man backed away, keeping his eye on Martin and the shiny gun in his face. Jatemme jerked his head and you sighed, following behind him. If he was going to take you away, he was beyond angry. Maybe you actually worried him this time. That wasn’t your intention. You wanted to scare him a little, not worry him.

You waved goodbye to your friends. They shot you alarmed glances, but you told them that Jatemme never raised a hand to you. Never. He liked getting his revenge in other ways.

He opened the door for you and you climbed into the front seat. He got into the driver’s seat, peeling away from the club so fast, he probably sprayed everyone with rocks and gravel. He didn’t speak. He drove through the quiet streets, heading back towards the hotel you escaped from.

“Baby–”

Jatemme held up a hand like he didn’t want to hear it. You bit your lip. You really stepped in it now. Was it bad that you were turned on? Punishment shouldn’t be this exciting and yet, your mind raced through what he had planned. How he was going to show that he cared for you.

He pulled to the front of the hotel and tossed the valet his keys. The gun was tucked away into his jeans. Fancy events didn’t mean he had to be the one who dressed up. He did have a clean, sky blue shirt buttoned to the very top. He opened the door and let you out.

He didn’t speak while he pushed you inside, the event well and truly over by now. He didn’t speak as you rode the elevator in crushing silence and velvet flooring muffling your heels. He didn’t speak as he got out onto the twelfth floor, leading you to a suite you didn’t know he got for the night.

Once inside, you gasped. There was a bottle of wine chilling in a bucket. Low lighting made the room glow like looking through a piece of glass at twilight. “You did all this for me?” You asked.

“If you would have behaved yourself,” he said.

The suite was big enough to have a full living room with couches and armchairs, shiny mahogany coffee table, and a wide screen TV. Behind a set of double doors, there was a bed already turned down, waiting for you to climb in.

You pouted. Your man was so sweet sometimes, it made your heart ache. He didn’t always show this softer side. The side that liked snuggling up to trashy movies late at night, snacking in bed, and enjoying each other’s company.

“Do you have any idea how worried I was?” He asked. His voice was barely above a whisper. Enough to get his point across. You truly had worried him.

You turned to him with an apology on your lips but he was already invading your space. He grabbed your face and pulled you into a rough kiss, slanting his lips across yours as if he meant to stake a claim. Prove a point. You belonged to him. There was no way of getting out of it. No way of running.

You gripped onto him tightly. “I hate when you worry me like that,” he said.

“You promised,” you whined.

His lips returned to kissing you, looking for the zipper on your side to unzip you from the dress. When he couldn’t find it, he began to rip it with his bare hands. “Hey!”

“I’ll buy you more,” he said. His lips returned to kissing you. More like possessing you. He kissed you like he wanted to meld your bodies together to keep you by his side. This was what you needed. What you had been craving all night.

Your bra and panties went next, baring you completely to him. He wasn’t in it to admire your body right now though. You knew him. He had been worrying about you all night and needed to see you. Feel you. Make sure that you really were in front of him and not a figment of his imagination.

He turned you around and slapped your ass. You screamed out, jumping away from the sharp sting. He pushed you towards the deep gray couch and bent you over the back of it. It dug into your tummy but you were too turned on to notice the pain.

He unzipped his zipper and freed himself with a low groan, spreading your ass cheeks and rubbing his dick through your wet folds. Your hands feebly gripped onto the couch cushings, fingers digging into the linen.

Once his tip was good and wet, he stuffed you and you cried out from the burn of his girthy dick pushing into you. Your eyes crossed. He felt too good to contain to a single moan. You yelled out without abandon, not caring who heard you. If the neighbors complained, Jatemme would handle that too.

His strokes were bruising, punishing, near cruel as he slammed into you over and over. “You and this fucking attitude gon’ kill me,” he groaned. His fingers grabbed hold of your hips and slammed you back onto his dick. Like his strokes weren’t enough. Like you weren’t moving fast enough for him.

“Oh baby, oh fuck–I’m sorry!” You cried out.

“No, you not,” he said. No, you were not. You’d do everything all over again if he meant that his attention was back on you. That his hands were back on you. That his dick was inside you, spearing you, driving you to new pleasures each and every time.

Your feet were scrambling for purchase. He didn’t care. He fucked you like you were no more than a toy to stick his dick in. One hand reached behind you to push against his chest. His shirt slipped between you so he lifted it and brought his flesh flush with yours. Then, he grabbed your outstretched hand and pulled it behind you, resting on your back while he used the new position as a new anchor. His strokes grew deeper, more desperate.

“I catch you talking to another nigga and I’ma kill him,” Jatemme whispered harshly.

“Yes, baby,” you moaned. You’d seen him kill niggas for far less. For daring to turn their neck in your direction. He once told you that if he could blind the male population of Chicago, he would.

“Oh fuck!” You screamed out, crying through your punishing orgasm.

Jatemme grunted in satisfaction. “That’s your first one for the night. I hope you’re keeping count,” he said.

“Baby, wait…” You grunted between his deep thrusts.

“Like you made me wait tonight?” He asked. He yanked on your hair, forcing you to look back at him. You stared into his eyes while he filled you up with his cum. He came with a low, grumbling moan that shook your inner walls.

Your mouth dropped open as his dick pulsed and twitched. Your legs were jelly, kept standing by pure force by him. His will to keep you spread open for him ensured that you were a vessel for his dick. His own personal fucktoy.

He made you cum two more times while your neck was craned, looking back into his soulful eyes. You ran out of curse words to shout to the heavens. Your eyes ached from the way they rolled. Your essence mixed with his spend dripped down your legs in a slow river that tickled your legs.

He finally slipped out, giving you a bit of a break. You huffed, legs shaking, arms weak. He picked you up and carried you to the bed, spreading your legs open once more. He fisted his dick, jerking the length of it while he looked at your destroyed pussy leaking with his cum.

“Hope you didn’t plan on sleeping tonight,” he said with a small grin.

You panted with a nervous giggle. He proved throughout the rest of the night just how much he missed you and made you promise not to do it again. Well, at least not anytime soon.

The end.

There will be more! The Secret Jatemme Files

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