#tw multiple partners

[angrelysimpping]

Solitary

yet another thing for the nasty nasty Aguilar from 💜@rotting-ink 's💜 game!

Contents: AMAB Aguilar (he/him); GN Reader (you/your); GN other prisoner (they/them); DEAD DOVE, DO NOT EAT; noncon; multiple partner; virginity loss; power plays; power imbalance; talk of mindbreak; forced co-dependence; crying; forced oral, reader giving; penetration, reader not receiving; angst

Words: 3,705

It took everything in you not to try to shrug out from under Aguilar's hand as he steered you to solitary, large hand resting almost casually over the back of your neck. Everything about him made your skin crawl, spine prickling as you almost felt his pale eyes traveling over your body. 

Somehow, the walk feels like it takes forever and over in an instant at the same time. Forever walking with Aguilar’s nails digging into the sides of your throat every time you moved in a way he didn’t like, eyes burning into your back. Yet, far too soon he’s pressing you against the cell door while he unlocks it. Your stomach turns as he pins you there, something horrifically hard pressing against the curve of your ass and you desperately hope it’s his baton. You know it’s not. 

When the door swings open, you’re almost grateful, rushing in. Even though you knew you shouldn’t, that you were no better than a fox flushed out by hounds, running headfirst into a trap, vulnerable to hunters, predators, you couldn’t help that small sliver of momentary relief. As long as it puts space between you and him, you’d take it. 

There’s someone else in the cell, pressed back into a corner. Try as you might, you don’t get a good look at them before Aguilar closes the door. 

For a brief instant, you feel hope. There’s two of you and only one of him. Maybe, possibly, you could escape this nightmare? Surly together you could overpower Aguilar, couldn’t you? 

Aguilar is between you in a second, and your hope flickers pitifully in your chest. 

He’s far too relaxed, confidence nearly rolling off him in nauseating waves. 

“Buchanan, Mortmain. Mortmain, Buchanan.” Aguilar’s voice seems too loud in the small room, burrowing under your skin. His hand lands on your shoulder, hard, and your knees buckle. You’re forced down, the other prisoner receiving the exact same treatment. You catch their eye for a brief moment, and there’s a misery there that mirrors your own. “We’re going to have some fun together.” His voice drops low, reverberates in your bones. Hand dropping to his belt, his tongue swipes across his bottom lip. “So, if you know what’s good for you, you’ll both play nice.”

Any hope left in you is snuffed out as the other prisoner nods, meek and submissive under Aguilar’s gaze. Have they been here longer than you? Broken down by him over time? Or were they just like you, in some ways? Willing to do what you had to if it meant you’d survive this, too?

Whatever the case, it doesn’t matter. All that matters is that Aguilar undoes his trousers. God, why does he have to be so big? It was unfair, this wretched man having such a large cock, the better for him to break you with. And, he’s already hard. Of course he is, but it still makes your stomach sink. This was your life now, huh? Having to trade sexual favors with a creep in hopes of surviving? Servicing this man, worshiping this cock? That was all you were ever going to be good for now? Nothing else? 

The spiral of your thoughts are cut off as a cruel hand grabs the back of your head, nails scraping against your scalp as Aguilar pulls you forward. “I said play nice, pretty thing.” You nearly gag as your face is pressed into his groin, nose mashed painfully into his pubic hair. “Making your friend do all the work,” he tuts, mock disappointed as he grins down at you.  

The other prisoner is already licking at his tip, seeming unsure of what to do. A pang of pity hits you. Was this their first time? You didn’t want to think about it, your own past sexual history or this stranger’s, but something about the thought of Aguilar being someone's first anything made your heart ache. 

Trying to shove the thought out of your mind, you reluctantly open your mouth. Aguilar sighs low as you hesitantly lick at where he’s guided you, fighting back bile as his taste spreads across your tongue. Salt, skin, musk. You’re not sure what you expected, really. Worse. You expected him to taste as rotten as he acted. Not…normal. Human. It'd be easier if you could make him a monster in your head. 

“Pretty little things, you both are,” Aguilar murmurs, hold on the back of your head relaxing. You take the opportunity to move back a little, make yourself slightly more comfortable in this horrid situation. His fingers twitch against your scalp. A warning that makes tears prick at the corners of your eyes. God, there really was nothing you could do in this situation, was there? Couldn’t even right yourself without the threat of violence, of everything somehow becoming even more hellish. 

As the other prisoner tentatively takes the head of Aguilar’s cock into their mouth, you drag your tongue along his shaft. You want to get this over with, but the other prisoner? They're floundering. The head of Aguilar’s cock rests awkwardly on their tongue as they look up at him. 

You want to scream at them. You want to force their head down the length of Aguilar’s shaft. You want to push them away, to take over. Battle with your gag reflex as you took his cock into your throat. Anything, anything, that wasn't what they were doing. They were frozen, a fine tremor starting to take hold as they stared up at the prison guard with wide, bright eyes. Far too bright. 

They were about to cry. 

And Aguilar looked liked he'd won the lottery. 

There's nothing you can do, no way to help as Aguilar cups the back of their head. He's not gentle, you didn't expect him to be, but you still wince in sympathy as he yanks their head down. They gag, hands flying to press against his hips weakly, but it's no use. 

Tears stream freely down their face as they grip Aguilar’s hips, seemingly trying to ground themself in some miniscule way. You can’t bear to witness it. So, when Aguilar starts to press down on your head, you don’t even think about resisting. You’re guided down to his balls. 

You try to ignore what’s happening. The gagging, the choked sobs. If you just lap at his balls, suck them into your mouth, if you just make him cum, this will end. You won’t have to process how there’s drool leaking over his sack that’s not yours or the low laughter mixing with strangled cries that burn in your ears. 

Knees aching from the cold, hard floor, your own eyes watering, you keep going. Dragging your tongue over the seam of his sack, lapping at the heavy balls. You hope he's sensitive here, hope this is getting him off faster. The sickening wet sounds of him fucking the other prisoner’s throat, their cries, seem to lessen as you mouth at one of his testicles. 

For a second, you think maybe it’s over. The gagging lessons, Aguilar starts to pull you up. But, it’s not. His cock is hard, glistening, coated in your fellow prisoner’s spit. He’s gripping their jaw, keeping their mouth open while rubbing his tip against their tongue. 

“They don’t have a clue what they’re doing, do they?” Aguilar’s unnerving eyes are on you as he speaks, even as he rocks his hips forward into their mouth. They gag again, fingers twisting into Aguilar’s trousers as they start to panic. You don’t think, grabbing one of their hands and giving it a squeeze that you can only hope is reassuring.

You know you’ve screwed up as Aguilar’s eyes light up. “Helping your new friend?” His nails dig into the skin of your head as he pushes your face closer to theirs. Panicked eyes meet yours. “Here, how about you help them learn how to put their useless tongue to work?” 

Aguilar forces your mouth to the other prisoner’s, the tip of his dick still shared between you. Their hand shakes in yours, and you give it another slight squeeze. It’s awkward, kissing them around Aguilar’s cock. Tongue swirling around the leaking tip, into their mouth, you try to coach them on what to do with just your body. Surely they want this over as bad as you do? 

They try. They really do. They try to mimic the way your tongue moves, how it curls and twists, but it's clumsy, awkward, all their movements stiff with fear and humiliation. 

The room seems to echo with the lewd, wet sounds of you kissing while Aguilar still firmly presses you both against his cock, forcing you to share in something neither of you even wanted. At least the sounds are loud enough that you almost can't hear the prison guard's low murmurs of filth. You could just about block him out, focus on the other prisoner, on their body leaning into yours, almost relaxing against you, their hand clinging to yours instead of Aguilar. 

He pulls back, cock slipping from between your lips, and you freeze, bracing yourself. This has to be it, right? He'll jerk himself off, spend himself on your face, and that'll be it, right? You pull the other prisoner closer to you, try to put yourself as best you can between them and Aguilar. They make a small noise as you tuck their head between your neck and shoulder, something you interpret as grateful as Aguilar's eyes flash at the sight. 

But, the bastard doesn't cum. 

Instead, he sits down on the thin bed, idly stroking himself as he watches you. The smile that curls across his face makes the tiny hairs on the back of your neck stand on end. His teeth glint in the low light as he lets out a low chuckle. 

“Don't be so heartless, can't you see your new friend is upset?” It's that same mocking, faux disappointed tone as before, and it makes your blood run icy in your veins. “Why don't you comfort them? Make them feel better?” They're shaking against you now, breathing too quickly as Aguilar speaks. “Go on, kiss away their tears, pretty.”

They let out another heart wrenching sob against your shoulder. You know there's no use arguing, that disobeying him might lead, would lead, to something worse. Still, it pained you. They move to obey, to let you do what Aguilar wants, but you hesitate. Cupping their face in your hands, you can’t help it. Their eyes are hazy, clouded with tears and pain. You’d felt like a cornered fox when you’d rushed into this cell, eager to get away from Aguilar even though you knew you were trapping yourself. But, if you were a fox, what were they? A hare? No, more docile than that. A bunny. Yes, a soft bunny. Not even a wild one, but some child’s pet now caught in the maw of an uncaring monster.

Their breath caresses your cheek as you lean in, still far too fast. “Calm down,” you murmur, voice soft and low, trying to help them without Aguilar hearing. Lips brushing against the curve of their cheek bone, you taste salt. “We’ll survive this.” You kiss thier other cheek, fingers trailing lightly down the back of their neck in what you hoped was a soothing gesture. “We have to.” 

You don't know why you do it, really. Maybe it was something in the way they'd looked at you or maybe it was how they bent so easily to each and every one of Aguilar's horrid demands. Maybe it was the mirror of yourself you could see in them. Whatever it was, you wanted to protect them, to provide them some modicum of comfort in this wretched situation. 

You kiss them. Properly. 

Not just their tear stained cheeks and not for Aguilar's amusement. You kiss them for yourself, for their sake, for some semblance of softness. When your mouth presses against their trembling lips, they seem to relax, just ever so slightly. They're hesitant, cautious. Tongue slipping into their mouth, they sigh. Inexperienced, a novice, they try to imitate your lips move against theirs. An awkward dance that made your heart break. Was this their first kiss? Had you taken that from them? 

They pull back slightly, and your fears settle somewhat. Their cheeks seem flushed, their eyes softer. A completely different person than from before, their lips slightly parted and panting as if they wanted more of your touch. 

You press another kiss to their waiting lips, whispering against their skin encouragement for you both. “Stay strong.”

They don’t get a chance to even fully process your words before they’re yanked back by Aguilar. A shrill scream rips from their throat as they’re lifted, trousers all but ripped off them. Aguilar holds them against his chest, manhandles them until they’re legs are hooked over his knees, his cock pressed dangerously against their dry hole. They squirm, new tears springing to life.

“Awh, look at that,” he coos, pale eyes on you even as he drags his tongue up their cheek, lapping up the fresh tears and making them whine. “Aren’t they so sweet?” The way his tongue curls around the word ‘sweet’ makes it sound dirty, makes your throat tighten. “You saw how they took my cock in their mouth. So innocent.” He laughs, and their eyes meet yours, wide with horror. “Do you think they’re a virgin?” 

You don’t need an answer, you can tell from the way their eyes flit around the room in a desperate bid to find some way out of this hell. They are. They're a virgin. This is their first time. Their first everything. 

And Aguilar was the one ruining it for them. 

“Poor, clueless little thing. Never taken a cock before.” Aguilar grips himself, rubs the tips of his leaking dick against their inexperienced hole. They go rigid, a low whine building in the back of their throat. “How’re you gonna help your friend, pretty? Tongue their tight hole or help slick up my cock? It’s going in either way.”

You don’t think, scrambling across the room in seconds. Lapping at their hole, you try your best to turn your brain off. This is for their own good. Tongue twisting into them, neck craning awkwardly and face pressed against them, you try your best to prep them for what’s to come. A hand finds your head and, for a moment, you think it’s Aguilar. It’s not. They somehow managed to reach you. Maybe Aguilar allowing them to lean over, to touch you? You wonder what the guard expected, if he thought they’d pull at you, try to rip you away from them? Or, maybe he thought they’d give into what little pleasure you provided and pull you closer?

They do neither. Their hand merely rests upon your head, and it feels like they understand. Like they know you’re doing your best in this twisted situation to help them. 

Like they don’t hate you for what you’re doing.

Aguilar doesn’t give you nearly enough time to truly prepare them in any meaningful way. Soon, he shoves you back, sent sprawling on your back on the dank floor. Looking up from the ground, you nearly start crying yourself as Aguilar starts forcing himself into their barely slickened hole. 

All the air seems to leave them, mouth dropping open but not a single sound escaping them. He lets gravity do most of the work, letting them sink down slowly along the length of his thick shaft. 

There's no adjustment period. He doesn't have a heart for something as kind as that. You can see the muscles of Aguilar’s shoulder and arms flex under his shirt as he starts to move them, lifting them on and off his cock, fingers digging into the tender flesh of their thighs in a way you knew would leave marks. Their body shudders violently, a sob retching from the depths of their soul, breaking their pain induced silence as they’re violated right before your eyes. It’s obscene, and Aguilar seems to bask in it, deliberately keeping their leg spread open, showing off how their once virgin hole struggles to swallow his cock.  

It’s pure instinct, the self preservation that has allowed you to live this long in such a cruel world, that has you glancing at the door. With Aguilar like this, would he be able to stop you from running?

“Oh?” Agular's voice makes your skin crawl, dragging your eyes from the door back to him. “Thinking of leaving us, pretty?” He nearly drops the other prisoner on his cock, snapping his hips up in one crude motion that leaves them struggling to breathe. “Thinking of leaving your sweet friend all alone?” His hands leave their thighs, snake under the hem of their prison tunic, dragging the fabric up so you could see the welts left behind by his nails cutting into their skin. “Hear that sweetheart?” His tongue darts out, licking up the side of their neck, fingers finding their nipples and twisting savagely. “You’re going to be left all alone with me.”

“D-Don’t.” It’s the first time you’ve heard them speak. Their voice is hoarse, broken. Each word a monumental effort to form with the haze of horror they had to speak through, every syllable grating against their throat. “Please.” Their tear filled gaze meets your’s and you're pinned to the spot by the pure amount of misery you can see in their depths. “P-Please don’t l-leave me.” The end of their sentence morphs into a whine as Aguilar’s hands grip their thighs again, starts to bounce them once more on his fat cock.

Yet, his pale eyes are still on you as you stay there, rooted to the spot. Could you damn someone to this fate? Left alone to endure Aguilar’s whims? Could you live with yourself knowing what you'd be damning them to in the hopes of saving your own skin?

God, you hated Aguilar. Hated the power he held over both of you. More than hate, you loathed him. Yet, even that didn't feel like a strong enough word. 

Because you couldn't leave them. You couldn't. They were too much like yourself, too much of what you could have been, of what you could still be. 

You scramble up from the floor, not allowing yourself to think. Hooking your arms under their legs, you don't dare to try to lift them fully off Aguilar's cock, but you try to take some of their weight. Try to keep each thrust from being as brutally deep as possible. 

“Make them cum on my cock, pretty.”

Hand going to their sex, you duck down to lap at their hole. You don't care that you're tongue also drags along Aguilar's cock as he fucks into them, as long as you can help take away some of their pain, turn some part of what they're feeling into pleasure. Weakly, their hips twitch into your hand as you toy with their sex, and you can almost convince yourself that some of their whines are now laced with pleasure. 

Not that Aguilar cares. 

“My two pretty fucktoys play so well together.” His voice is infuriatingly the same, unaffected by what's happening, from the suffering he's created. “Can't wait to train you right. Break you so perfectly.” You shudder, try to block out his words, to focus solely on getting through this, only to choke as his foot comes up to press painfully into your groin. Glancing up, your stomach drops through the floor to find his eyes boring into you. Pale, unnerving and all seeing. Like a great bird of prey. “Don't worry, I'll treat you right. Have you squirming, grinding against each other, begging for my cock.” He presses harder against you, your brain filling with static at the blinding pain mixed with the barest edges of pleasure. “I'll have forever to make you my perfect little toys, after all.”

Fingers twisting, they finally cum, a broken sound spilling from their lips as their hole starts to convulse around the prison guard's dick. Belatedly, you hoped they'd touched themself before, that this wasn't their first time experiencing an orgasm. 

Aguilar cums soon after, rutting up into their body as if it was the last thing he'd do, each movement punctuated by further grinding his foot into your groin. You can't tell if the other prisoner is even fully conscious as he pushes them from his lap, fixing his clothing as their body spills onto the bed like a broken toy. 

You try to reach them, only for Aguilar to grab you. He keeps you pressed against his chest, a hand firmly gripping your chin and forcing his mouth over yours. His free hand grabs your ass, squeezing harshly. Throughout it all, his eyes burn into yours. Something in your brain snaps. Whatever had kept you together leaving you. 

Tears streak down your cheeks, body going limp against him. You just want it to be over. To sleep. To have a moment of rest. 

This seems to be what he wanted. One last display of power, one more misery at his hands. Aguilar shoves you onto the bed, next to the other prisoner, laughing as you lay there unmoving. 

“Good toy.”

He leaves, the soft sound of the door unlocking before swinging shut and being secured again only just registering in your brain. You pull the other prisoner to you, feel their breath on their neck, a blessed sign that they're still alive. Groping in the dim light, you find the trousers Aguilar had pulled off them. You drag the rough cloth over their naked waist. A poor excuse for a blanket but better than nothing as you curl against them on the small, thin cot. 

“I…” their voice is weak, hardly auditable even as they're pressed right against you. “I'm sorry.”

Your hand strokes over their back, trying to reassure them and yourself at the same time. “It's not your fault.” 

They break against you, crying into your chest. You join them, letting your own sobs mix theirs as you hold each other through the night. 

(Part 2)

[panickingpansexuality]

Spring Rituals

Elliot x Shane x Sebastian X Reader (she/they) pronouns FEM body.

Gif not mine.

Kinks involved

Breeding

Marking

Oral fixation

Degradation

Praising

One spring morning a few days before the egg hunt the farmer woke up and set out to do their chores, when they opened the door they found all of them already done, the eggs and milk left out on her steps, the crops all watered, and paths cleared off. 

They saw their letter box had it's flag up and went to go see who left a letter;

"Dear farmer (y/n), 

I regret to inform you that I've missed a rather important detail in our cultural celebrations, you see very year a week before the festival we choose two men to go off and have sex so that Yoba will bless us with a bountiful year.

Well I forgot to inform the gentlemen this year and while the letters have been sent they need someone to fornicate with to ensure the year will be prosperous. Would you be interested?

Please let me know ASAP 

Mayor Lewis."

You've accepted the Quest

(Y/n) sat in their bedroom the next day, they were told three men would be coming, one to ensure that it was safe and consensual and two to fuck them. 

Mayor Lewis sent her enough fabric so that they could make themselves either new underwear and or a lacey little outfit (they picked the outfit), light pink like the flowers that would grow very soon, after that he told them that they had to be ready by nine sharp, the men would most likely be with them all day.

The door opened with the spare key (y/n) had given Mayor Lewis so that he could give it to the men coming over.

(Y/n) felt their heart leapt in their throat, they stood up quickly, their hands nervously fidgeting in front of them.

The door opened revealing Elliott, Shane, and Sebastian, the three of them entered closing the door, each of them took her body in like it was the most beautiful sight they've ever seen.

(Y/n) felt suddenly embarrassed, they covered themselves the best they could from the men, one of them being their crush.

"Hello darling." Elliott said stepping forward, he took off his jacket and dropped it over them.

"Are you ok with this?" He asked softly.

"Of course they are." Shane grumbled, "they wouldn't have said yes otherwise."

"Go sit off your hangover jackass." Sebastian glared at him.

Shane grumbled and brought a chair into the bedroom..

"Do you guys want anything to drink?" (Y/n) asked, holding Elliott's jacket.

"Water." Shane said, "the two you pick are going to need a lot of it."

"I-I have to pick who fucks me?"

Elliott found himself blushing while Shane laughed, Sebastian adjusted his stance against the wall.

"Yes dear," Sebastian said, "Whoever you want (y/n) that's who you'll get, and we stop whenever you want to."

"Any other questions?" He asked

(Y/n) nodded.

"So do you guys do this with every person in town?"

"Not usually." Shane says, "most of the time we go to the city, most of the time of the men who are close are married they just fuck their spouses. We get a test to make sure we're all clean before going out to do anything."

"Oh.." (y/n) said feeling their skin turn red.

"So it won't be all of you fucking me?"

"No," Elliott said, "not unless you want to, you pick which two of us have some fun and then once we've gotten you to a completely blissed out state you'll pick whoever attempts to impregnate you."

(Y/n) squeaked and Elliott chuckled, placing a kiss on their forehead, his hand reached up to their lower part of their stomach with a heated gaze they looked back up at the farmer.

"It doesn't have to take," he said, "So long as we try the rituals complete and if you want we all go on normally, like it never happened." 

(Y/n) looked up at Elliott, nerves racking their brain and the thought of them and Elliott going back to being friends after something like this hurt more than they thought.

"I'll get the waters." They said handing Elliot back his jacket, he took it and the three of them watched the farmer bend down and grab four gallons of water from her fridge onto the table, their ass looked so good in the little lace undies that Sebastian knew they had designed. 

(Y/n) grabbed four cups from her cabinet and set them out on the table.

"So…no hard feelings to who doesn't get picked right?" 

"Absolutely." The three of them said.

(Y/n) took a deep breath and said:

"Elliott and Sebastian."

"Thank you sweetheart." Shane said, "I'm a little too hungover for that."

(Y/n) giggled, they noticed the warm look on Elliott's face when they smiled.

Sebastian crept up behind them and held their from behind, he smiled into her hair and left a kiss.

"I'm ready when you are princess." He told them,

(Y/n) smirked pressed their ass against his crotch feeling the lump beneath it, he groaned and started kissing her neck.

"Naughty little thing." 

Elliot walked towards them, taking off his socks and shoes, leaving them scattered on the floor, his tie was next and then his shirt.

Sebastian started to rock his hips behind the person who leaned into the touch, they pressed their thighs together seeing Elliott walk towards them with half his shirt undone.

"I'm happy it's you." He said before crashing his lips to theirs, Elliot's hands crawled the sides of your body barely touching you, once his hands found your breasts they circled them lightly with his finger tips before grouping them, (y/n) let out a breathy moan arching their body Into his touch, behind them Sebastian slipped a hand up to the strap of their outfit and pulled it down to their shoulder.

"You want the bed sweetheart?" Sebastian asked, "Or do you want us somewhere else?"

The possibilities sky rocketed into their head, on the floor like animals, in the shower, or maybe outside with the twigs and pebbles scraping their back along with their nails. 

Sebastian pressed a kiss to the tip of their right ear and bit down gently on it.

"Bed." (Y/n) whimpered.

"You wanna be tied up?" Sebastian asked, they moaned and shook their head. 

"Not this round."

Shane shifted in his seat, adjusting his pants to be more comfortable.

Sebastian pulled you into the bed and played with your boobs while grinding up into you, the both of you dry humping each other until Elliott was finished getting undressed, you clenched your thighs together at the sight of him. Sebastian chuckled and moved his hand down into your panties fingers gently caressing your clit.

You gasped and arched into his hand your body begging for more.

Sebastian pulled his hand out and you whined, Elliott pulled you to your feet and whispered in your ear.

"Take this pretty little thing off (y/n)."

You smirk and gently push him to the bed, Sebastian's already quickly getting undressed you wait until he's finished before you slowly start to take off your own outfit. 

All eyes were on you, completely and fully aware of what you were doing to them. When you toss the garment aside you look over at Shane who's eyeing you up and down.

"Shane," you coo. "I'm alright if you play with yourself during this."

The other two look over at him and agree, with you that's all the initiative Shane needs before dropping his pants, you grab a bottle of lotion from the nightstand and hand it over to him.

"I can see your slick glistening on your thighs Darling." Elliott says, "Are you truly that excited?"

"Not as excited as she's gonna be." Sebastian says, tapping a spot on the bed beside him.

"Let me eat you out  princess." 

You swear your legs shake as you walk over and move to sit on the bed, Sebastian gently maneuvers you to the middle of the bed and spread your legs as wide as they can go..

"Elliott," you say, "Let me suck you off."

Elliott flushed and Sebastian kisses the inside of your thighs with a smile.

"Such a generous little slut." He whispered before giving your pussy a quick lick that led to you arching up into him with a gasp, Sebastian chuckled and held your hips down.

"Stay still for me whore." 

He let one hand go and went to finger you as he ate you out and chuckled when he noticed how wet you got.

"Elliott pretty slut likes being degraded."

"Go easy on her Sebastian." Elliott said sitting beside your head, he gently put a hand on your cheek before kissing your lips.

"She's being so good for us."

You moaned and as Sebastian continued his meal, you opened your mouth for Elliott as he inserted himself, with legs on either side of your head.

It wasn't difficult to take him down, when he inserted himself you did your best to suck him down moaning around his cock as Sebastian continued to eat you out. Elliott used the headboard to help him bounce into your throat, his back slightly hunched as one hand was on the bed holding on tightly to yours.

It wasn't long before Elliott started becoming incredibly vocal, the moans going straight to the knot in your stomach. 

When Elliott releases you do too, the feeling of his warm cum in your mouth turns you on a bit more than anything. 

Elliott tries to pull off of you before he drowns you in what he has, but you suck it down eagerly. It has almost ready to go again.

When he hops off he looks down at Sebastian who is still going to town on your pussy.

"Sebastian," Elliott pants out, "You must try her mouth."

Sebastian pulls himself away from you pussy with a wet kiss before asking;

"Is that where you want me now cumslut?"

You breathlessly nod and Elliott flips you over so your shaky knees are on the bed and Sebastian is sitting against the headboard.

"Show me what you got princess." Sebastian says, you give him a smile and immediately go down to tease the tip, you take a hand and start to give him a handjob as well, not skipping his balls.

"Fuck." Sebastian curses out.

You start to moan around his dick when Elliott begins his assault on your pussy, almost immediately do his fingers go into find your g-spot.

You then start to go down on Sebastian trying to take him down to the hilt.

"Fuck (y/n)." He moans your name like a prayer, you keep going, as you go down on his dick your hand continues it's motions where it can.

"I'd put a ring on their finger just for their mouth." Elliott tells Sebastian, "and this fucking pussy tastes like heaven."

"Fucking gonna make me cum early, little slut." Sebastian says reaching down to start playing with your nipples.

"That's what happened to me." Elliott says laughing, "this pussy is gonna be a dream to be in. Better than I'd imagined."

Sebastian and Shane laugh as you look up at Sebastian confused, he gently puts a hand under your chin and asks:."Can I fuck your mouth?"

Wordlessly you nod and he chuckles.

"Just tap my thigh twice if you want me out ok?"

Again you nod, and he grabs both sides of your head and starts fucking your mouth.

You felt jolts of pleasure running through your body, your eyes overflowed with tears hearing the men groan and moan for how well you were doing.

Sebastian continued fucking up into your mouth until he pulled off of you and pumped himself s few times before cumming on your face, you leaned down and licked what was left from his dick.

Sebastian then pulled you forward and kissed you passionately.

"Flip her over Sebastian." Elliott said, with a glint in his eye Sebastian looked over at him and smirked, your head was now by his dick and your legs spread wide for Elliott, his fingers found your g-spot easily again, his body was over the lower half of yours, and he out the leg furthest from him over his shoulder.

"Be a good girl baby," Elliott said and he quickened his place on it watching as you started to scream from pleasure.

"Good fucking girl." Elliott said, "You're so wet baby can you cum for me? Let it out, let it all out." Sebastian leaned forward and played with both of your breasts 

"Go on slut, show him how fucking dumb you'll be for a good fuck." 

Their voices of praise and degradation, and what they did to your body quickly became too much for you and you felt a damn burst in you stomach.

When you came back Elliott was whispering praises to you and going back down to your pussy which makes you whine, he's gently rubbing all over your body.

under your head Sebastians leaning back playing with your hair and whispering how pretty and good you are.

"Want you in." You said starting to cry, "Please Elliott please."

Sebastian leaned forward and wiped your tears.

"You want him to breed you honey?" 

You nodded and sobbed into his hand.

"Good slut." He said "Keep crying baby, I don't think Elliott thinks you've earned it yet."

"I have." You cry out looking up at him.

"Please Seb, please I'll be good, I'll be so fucking good just lemme have in me."

"Aww princess." Sebastian said mockingly. "You're begging to the wrong guy."

He gently coaxes you to turn around and helps you up to your knees, you slide your legs apart until your bare pussy is on your sheets.

Elliott's now off the bed looking down at you expectantly.

With half lidded eyes you look up at him and start begging.

"Please Elliott, I want you to be the one to breed me first, I want to feel you so deep in me that I'll memories the shape of your cock in my pussy please try and make me pregnant, you won't have to take care of the baby it's my job and I'll wait whenever you wanna fuck me again and leave with more of your babies to take care of."

"Fuck Princess." Sebastian groans out.

"Who do you belong to?" Elliott says leaving down to whisper in your ear.

"You." You whine out.

"Gonna let me breed you?" He asks pushing you back on the bed, his left knee on the bed.

You whine and nod.

"Gonna let me make you a mommy? Fucking let me marry you just cause I'm gonna get you drunk off if this dick?" 

"Yes.." you moan out.

"Yes, who?"

"Yes sir." You say holding up your legs.

"Fuck.".Sebastian and Shane groan out.

"Now you gotta let Sebastian have fun too." Elliott says, "You've been such a generous baby, I think you can be again."

"Please " you say looking over at Sebastian.

"I'll watch first baby." Sebastian says pinching a nipple. "But then if you want I'll fuck your pussy so hard that you'll need to hire someone to help you with your chores this week."

Elliott chuckles and Sebastian comes over and kisses him on the cheek.

"Give her a good time." He says.

With that Elliott pulls your legs over his shoulders, his dick slowly sliding into you, the two of you letting out a groan, he waits a few minutes, leaning down to kiss you and play with your breasts.

"Do I feel as good as you imagined?" You ask breathlessly

He chuckles and kisses your cheek.

"You feel better than that (y/n)."

he pulls almost all the way out your pussy gripping at him to stay in before he slams back in, you moan as he starts his pace.

"I'd like to make you squirt again." He pants out. "To make you squirt as I'm getting you pregnant."

Elliott reaches down to your clit and gently starts to rub it, you felt like your entire body was on fire, His gentle but hard thrusts were turning you to gush, he leaned forward and started suching the side of your neck.

"Pretty little mama." He whispered mindlessly, "I'm going in unsure that you have my babies by Christmas, I'll have you pregnant walking down the aisle, everyone in this fucking town will know you're mine. Mine."

You tired to agree but your words were mumbled too close together all you could fell was Elliott's dick and the pleasure it gave you. So good. So good. Everything so good. You wanted more, you're pretty sure you were begging for it.

"Fucked her stupid already Elliott." Shane laughed, "Pretty little slut." Elliott whispered, "My pretty little slut." 

"Sebastian." Elliott said, "Their mouth is lonely, let them jack you off at least." 

You whined in agreement, Sebastian smiled and first kissed Elliott on the mouth in a quick and passionate kiss, that Elliott groaned into, then he came and kissed your lips, holding the side of your jaw he spat in it and you held out your tongue to show him.

Him and Elliott chuckled, Elliott kissing your breasts as praise.

"So fucking good for us." He mumbled.

"Swallow." Sebastian said and you did, then you stuck your tongue back out panting and moaning like a dog. Sebastian knelt before you and you moved to Jack him off while Elliott fucked you. 

Soon you felt the damn burst in you again and you were begging Elliott to cum in you.

"Elliott," you moaned, "Daddy, please."

"Don't worry baby," he huffed, "I shall make your body look even more pretty, my beautiful baby don't worry."

His hips started to stutter a little bit, his release getting closer and closer.

When he came inside you would have screamed if all the sound was knocked out you replaced only small moans. 

Your grip on Sebastian only faltered once, Elliott pulled himself out and gently maneuvered you onto your shaking knees, looking up at Sebastian you kiss the top of his dick before swallowing it down.

Elliott enters you again, his pace is slow, he leans forward leaving a trail of kisses down to the middle of your spine before he starts back up again.

"You feel so good." Elliott whispered into your neck.

"I feel as if I need to stay in you forever." 

You moan, Elliott kisses the side of your cheek and continues to thrust into you,the pleasure isn't stopping you feel like it's increasing, your hands are gripping the sheets as the two men use you for their pleasure, Sebastian pulls off of you just as he's cumming, your hands shake and fall once he's finished, leaving your lower half up for Elliott to use.

The sound of skin hitting skin and moans are the only few noises left around the room, you're begging, the sound of "Please, please please!" Starts to fill the room but you have no idea what you're begging for and then he cums in you and the feeling has you tipped over the edge.

Shaking you collapse on the bed, Elliott collapses against you, pulling your he looks at your sweaty blissed out face.

"Break." Elliott says, "You need a break before we go on."

You look like you're about to cry, Elliott pushes the hair on your face aside and starts to kiss you, on your lips by your eyes all the way down to your breasts.

"Can you walk baby?" Elliott asks softly, you only whine in response.

"I'll get some food going." Shane says getting up.

"I'll wash them up." Elliott says softly.

He gently picks you up bridal style before going to the bathroom where you use the restroom and Elliott starts a bath for you, with plenty of bubbles.

"Robin made you the biggest tub I've ever seen." He chuckles out, you hum snd lean forward kissing up his arm to his shoulder.

"Where's Sebastian?" You try to ask but it comes out slurred.

"I'll go get him honey." Elliott says gently caressing your cheek, he leaves you alone to try and regain your thoughts. Your bathtub is big, big enough for maybe four adults.

Sebastian comes in and smiles at you, you grab his hand and kiss his fingers. He smiles softly at you and helps you stand. Wordlessly the three of you go into the bubble filled tub, your leaning against Sebastian and Elliott is leaning against you, small kisses and praises are shared between the three of you.

"Do we get to do more?" You ask.

Elliott chuckles and kisses your cheek. 

"If you want too Darling."

"We've got all day," Sebastian whispers, "the ritual is technically complete but if you need more then we'll give you whatever you want. Ok?"

You nod and give each of them a slow kiss on the lips.

"I gotta tell you guys what I want to do." You say.

In the kitchen Shane's made a frozen pizza for the three of you, he kinda hopes you'll eat in the bed or the couch, considering that you've been worked like crazy today. 

He hears the bathroom door open and sees Sebastian carrying you out, before setting you on the bed.

A twinge of jealousy sparks into Shane but he swallows it.

"Hey Shane." Elliott says going in, "(y/n) wants to speak to you." 

Confused, Shane goes in to find Sebastian wrapping a blanket around your slightly wet body.

"Hey," you say quietly. "Can I suck you off?"

Shane sputters as he hears the other two men laugh.

"You don't have to." Shane says with a red face

You give him a mean look before reaching out you fingers, grabbing his belt loop and pulling him forward.

"I want to." You say looking up at him for approval.

Shane's breath catches in his throat he looks down at your beautiful face and nods, you smile warmly before taking the zipper with your teeth and pulling them out, Shane fishes out his mostly hard cock for you. You lean forward giving the tip a kiss before starting off. 

Shane moans silently and closes his eyes, Sebastian goes in to finish the food and Elliott comes in to sit beside you, as you slurp Shane down, he smiles at you and moves your hair out of the way, kissing your shoulders and gently rubbing his hands up your body.

"You're doing so good for him." Elliott whispered, "So fucking sweet for everyone, you're our good girl (y/n)."

Elliott looks up at Shane and smirks.

"Let it out Shane," Elliott says, "they like knowing they're' being good, let them hear you."

"Fuck." Shane groans out, "You're so fucking good. (Y/n), fuck (y/n), oh fuck." He chants your name like a prayer. 

You pull your mouth off but continue using your hand as you leave a quick lick with your tongue against his shaft, he curses and tries not to smile at you.

"Little tease."  He buffs out.

"Cum in my mouth." You say softly, "Need you down my throat." 

The two men groan, as you take Shane in, Elliott continues to kiss your body, starting to leave little bite marks just to hear your moans, Shane's breaths are becoming heavier, he's gripping his hair, the other hand off to his side gripping the headboard. He feels like his feet are going to fall from the floor, he's moaning your name his hips soutter and then he cums cursing the entire time.

You pull away, sucking everything you can down.

A few moments  later Shane down at you panting, he leans down and kisses your forehead.

"Thanks for that (y/n).." he says gently "You did so good."

You preen under his praise 

"Foods ready." Sebastian calls.

"I'll bring you a plate." Shane says, "you need to rest."

"I can rest on the couch." You suggest.

"Ok." He says. You walk in on wobbly legs to the couch, Elliott on one side of you, Sebastian on the other and Shane sitting down on the floor, the television blaring the news.

"So." Shane says, "what else are we doing before we all head out."

"Well." Sebastian says, "(y/n) wants me to fuck them and then wants Elliott to stay the night, and by morning Robin will probably have to do repairs."

Shane is quiet for a moment, he looks up and see you cuddled closer to Elliott than Sebastian and nods.

"Ok." 

Once the food is done the three of you go back to the bedroom, Sebastian's laying on the bed, you between his legs putting the condom on with your mouth. All of you are clean but they were sticking to one rule: only one of them gets to cum in your pussy.

Once the condoms in, Sebastian leans forward and kissed you passionately, laying you down on the bed, he coaxed you to your side facing Elliott and Shane, he hooks a leg under the one facing the ceiling and opens you up with his hands, a generous amount of lube already on them.

You lean into him moaning softly, Sebastian kisses the side of your neck before pushing into you. 

"Fuck." He curses "Elliott was right about your pussy."

He pushes his hips forward into you, your eyes closed savoring every burst of pleasure that ore through you.

"Watch them." Sebastian says, 

You open your eyes, they look half lidded and fogged over, your mouth hangs open as your moans fills the room, you see Elliott's cock hardening and you moan, you need him in you it doesn't matter how but you need him and he can see it too, he smirks at you and crosses his arms watching you write in pleasure.

Sebastian's cock is filling you so nicely making wish that the condom was off so he took could fill you but these men had given you every wish had made you so fucked stupid that you wanted to give in to every request they had.

Sebastian pounded into you, each thrust made you feel better than the last your moans echoed freely as he licked the side of your neck.

"Such a good whore." Sebastian groaned, "opening up for all of us to use your pretty holes. Going dumb on our cocks, fucking cockslut."

"Imma cockslut." You slurred out.

"Good fucking slut." Sebastian huffed out.

"Gonna make you stupid in this dick, gonna make you wet enough for Elliott he's gonna slip in easily, give you fucking twins."

You moaned out into him, your body tightening around his dick. Sebastian began to grip you hard enough to leave bruises and you wanted them, you would have begged for them if you could.

His trusts grew faster, making your body limp, then his hand grabbed your throat cutting off some of your air.

"Yes, yes, yes." You slurred out, you felt the knot in your stomach coming undone, as Sebstians pace picked up.

His hips stuttered and he came you whined at the feeling of his warm cum in your pussy but not in your pussy.

Sebastian pulled out, leaving little kisses against your skin as you two parted. 

"If he doesn't give you a baby by the end of this year." Sebastian whispered leaving a trail of kisses up to your ear, "come visit me and I'll give you triplets."

You laughed and shook your head, he gave you a long slow kiss that left you arching up into him before he went to wash up and put his clothes on, Elliott came into bed with you and smiled warmly at you.

"(y/n)," he says softly, "My (y/n)." he kisses your arms and bites and sucks down the middle of your forearm. He pulls away and watches your happy face.

"My Elliott." You smiled, he leaned down and kissed your lips slowly, wanting to worship every inch of your body until he was the only one you thought of, the only one whose scent was left on your body.

When Sebastian came out of the bathroom, he saw you two were lovingly making out, the half of him that wanted to stay left when he decided to go get some food,Shane left with him.

The setting rays of the sun touched your bodies in the bed as you two laid their kissing and touching one another, your hands found his nipples and began to mess with them, the other going to grip his hair, making him moan into the kiss.

"Another day," you say, trying to make it sound coherent. "I wanna peg you."

Elliott answered without a second thought: 

"As you wish."

"But today," he said, gripping your thighs, and flipping you to your back. "I'm going to make sure that when you can walk again, my baby will be in you."

He leans down and kisses you as he inserts himself again, his hands grip your waist and pull them upwards so that the back of your head is on the pillows but he's on his knees with your legs in the air over his shoulders.

His pace grows a little faster than what it was earlier, the love is still there, he's kissing your legs while treating your body like a Fleshlight.

Your minds back to the place where you can think only about Elliott's dick, and those two words are the only thing in your mind.

"Elliott's dick.." you mutter out not realizing you said it, you say it like a mantra as he hits every spot inside of you perfectly, like he was meant to be in there.

"Made my beautiful baby dumb again?" He asks with a chuckle, you blush and cover your mouth, he growls at the action and quickens his pace so your hand sfky from your mouth to the bed sheets where you can grip them, your body arches up into him and you scream out your moans.

After the long day of fucking you two have had, your both close, Elliott reaches down and plays with your clit, quickly it becomes too much and your spasming around him your vision goes white for a moment but you feel him cumming.

"Fuck baby, (y/n), my darling, I'm gonna marry you, I swear it fuck, won't let you have anyone else's babies, need you to have mine, need you to be mine."

You're moaning, your heart wanting to hold onto those promises, but your body releases them with how much you're shaking.

 

Then when you come too again, Elliott's between your legs cleaning you up with a warm cloth, you moan out happily. 

Elliott smiled, putting the cloth in the bathroom he comes back out and helps you up, you see yourself in the mirror, your body littered in his hickeys and bruises most likely from Sebastian. Once you use the restroom, you grab another cloth and wipe down Elliott's thighs and dick.

When you go back out, your body immediately goes to the bed and curls up in the blankets, Elliott comes back with some water and fruit bars.

His arms are warm and you feel completely safe in them, one hand reaching down to your stomach, gently going up to grab one of your hands and bring it up to his lips for a kiss.

"I meant what I said." He whispered, "Every bit of it." 

You look up at him with tired eyes and kiss his lips slowly and full of promise.

As you two eat and drink you look over at him with a smile;

"Maybe take me to dinner first and then I'll let you marry me."

Elliott chuckles and pulls you into his chest.

"I'm glad it was you." You tell him, "I saw you enter and I felt completely safe and I never expected.."

"That I felt the same or that I'd bruise your cervix?" 

"Both." You say sleepily. 

"Go to sleep (y/n)." Elliott says kissing the top of your head, "I'm not leaving you."

"Wanna stay up and talk to you.." you mumble.

"I do as well, but you need your sleep my brilliant lover. Ok?"

You nod and quickly fall asleep, knowing that you're the luckiest person in Stardew Valley, and that the year will be profitable for the whole town.

[letstalktea]

🔞Okay… yeah. I've reached the point where I'm very willing to admit that I want a threesome with Sydney and Sirris (not that it was much of a secret). Daddy can show Syd how to fuck my brains out like a professional and Sydney can prove how fast of a learner he is while Sirris cleans off his cock in my mouth.🔞

[elenthyaolyenths]

"This is Our world, Our side." - [Good Omens, post-S2]

They come to your dreams with allusion

They come to bring shape to your mind

You know how to stop the intrusion

We all have to fight for the line

Faith in your device

So quiet and precise

Just when, not how

You can feel it now

Deep beneath the light

A spark will now ignite

And you will see me now

This is our world now.

Oh, season 3 will be great. Until then, permission to dream. Again and again...

[clits-and-clips]

Is there like.... anywhere or anyone I can talk to about wanting to die without feeling bad or triggering people

[nihilismtrcit]

introducing...eden louise “edie lou” ferraro 

gen 1: aries for the another zodiac legacy challenge by @acuar-io

since childhood, seeking out attention was a constant in eden louise ferraro’s life. her parents didn’t engage with her, rarely made her feel wanted. so she became the type of person who would seek out any attention, positive or negative. she’s a needy girl with an almost pathological desire to be noticed. of course, her hot-headed temper and mean attitude (that especially rears its head when eden feels vulnerable) make it difficult to maintain friendships, let alone romantic relationships. 

after making the move from sandy oasis springs to the spice district of san myshuno, eden decided she’d get the attention she so desperately craved by any means necessary. now an internet personality with aspirations of becoming fabulously wealthy, eden louise - self nicknamed edie lou - spends her days: 

trying to turn her social media career into fortune

cuddling and dressing up her bby chihuahua, clover (bites)

gaming, streaming, vlogging

keeping it tight to flex on social media 

seeking out validation in the form of romantic relationships and/or money

&& generally oscillating between being an overly attached lover and a messy gal ;)

[wow-an-unfunny-joke]

I’m so sad because no one responds to my attempts to reach out. I only have three friends, and I don’t speak to any of them, I’ve managed to self isolate so well that now I only have three friends- even when I had more friends I wasn’t close fk any of them and the friendships lasted less than a year each.

A while ago my friend said “everybody has someone else” and I don’t. I just don’t. I’m a third wheel in my friend server because it’s me, and a couple. And that’s it. They 2 of my 3 friends. I don’t think my third friend even likes me anymore.

I only have three friends and I’m so scared that’ll turn into 0 soon

[radicheart]

(( it's half funny, half frustrating that anons will sometimes lump all of a blog's ship verses into one verse and just completely disregard that the blog is multiverse and don't want those verses mingling together. ))

[midnight-soulless-system]

The alter fronting: chilling, not thinking about our partner

Partner: texts us

The alters fronting: who the fuck is this person??

Partner: confused

The internal handler who made us forget them: I am not involved at all.

[angrelysimpping]

Solitary pt 2

Yes, hello, I continue to be totally normal for 💜@rotting-ink ‘s💜 game, mhm mhm

Continuation of this

AMAB Aguilar (he/him); GN Witch/Reader (you/your); Other Prisoner/Other Origin Character (they/them)

Contents: noncon; past noncon; dubcon; DEAD DOVE, DO NOT EAT; fake consent; oral, reader giving; oral, reader receiving; penetrative sex, reader receiving; fingering, reader receiving; cum eating; demon contracts; power imbalances; group sex; multiple partners; co-dependence; prison sex; talked about: somno, mindbreak, choking; virginity loss

Words: 5124

How long had you been kept in solitary now? At least a few days but surly not a full week yet. 

It helped that you weren't truly alone. Aguilar had thrown you in here with another prisoner. 

Still, it was hell on earth. When you weren't being abused by the prison guard, you were forced to watch him have his way with the other prisoner. Or, worse still, he'd have you to ‘play’ together. Then he’d sit back, eyes burning into your skin as he watched and idly stroked himself until he got bored, grabbing one of you to ‘relieve’ himself.

You'd consider them a friend at this point, even if they refused to tell you their name, or to hear yours. They'd tried to explain it to you, once, how it'd make things too real for them, but they'd stumbled over their words, voice horse from having their throat fucked raw. 

It wasn't getting better. Nothing was. Every time Aguilar visited, he'd find some new way to break you both, and you could see it wearing your friend down. They'd never been a fighter, always meekly submitting to Aguilar's commands in the hopes that doing so would mean they'd earn less of the guard's ‘attentions.’ It never worked. Nothing worked. Not fighting and not submitting. It was truly useless. 

And now, they were somehow…less. Not just their body, thinning day by day on the watery gruel the prison allowed you. But less…themself. Their eyes would go blank as Aguilar manhandled them, yet tears would still streak down their cheeks. 

It…it’s more than disturbing to witness and more than once you've wondered what would have happened if they weren't here. Not only because Aguilar's full attention would have fallen on you, but also because, in a way, they were keeping you together. If it wasn't for trying to keep a strong front for them, you're sure you would've shattered by now. Would have become nothing more than an obedient pet, a broken toy, a shell of the person you were. 

You were being eroded, will ground down into nothingness. You both were. Having each other slowed the process, if ever so slightly. 

It's that thought that gives you the idea. 

He'd said it, once. Unnerving pale eyes piercing you as he'd laughed, talked about breaking you. Said how he wanted you to grind against each other while begging for his cock. The idea still makes your skin crawl, but…

They agree to it. That's all you needed. Besides, you quite like them. They're familiar to you, after this shared nightmare. It even feels…right, almost, when your mouth meets theirs. 

It breaks your heart a little how they kiss now, licking into your mouth with an eagerness. You'd been their first kiss, shared in a stolen moment of comfort. They'd been awkward, hesitant and shy as they tried to mimic how your mouth moved. Now, they kiss you the way he likes it, desperate and messy. 

Yet, they slow down, seeming to relax as you press them back against the thin cot you shared. It made a slow warmth spread through you, their arms lazily draped over your shoulders as you kissed down their jaw. They knew you, knew what they had to do, and they trusted you. They trusted you to help them, to touch them. 

It's all for show. That's it. Aguilar never lets you go too long without his torments. He'll show up soon and if you want to make this work, you have to look like you were both finally giving in. Just a trick, a way to make him let his guard down. 

But, their leg hooks around your waist, pulling you down so your body is pressed to theirs. Hips rolling up, they grind against you, making your breath hitch. 

You want to jerk back, to stop them. Remind them what this is, only an illusion. You don't. You can’t. Pressing a kiss to their throat, you sigh against their skin, “We don't have to actually-”

They cut you off, “But we could.” They grind against you again, sparks of pleasure alighting down your spine. “We could feel good for a little bit, together.”

It's a point they don't need to argue. You're more than willing to have your mind taken off the horrible situation you're in. Instead of answering them, you slot a knee between their thighs and press up against their groin. They groan, a small sound you've never heard from them before. Pleasure. Plain and simple. Not painted around the edges of pain and humiliation. Not buried in self hatred and guilt. No, not a speck of hurt. Just pleasure.  

You want to hear more. 

Hands gliding over their sides, they shiver at the gentle touch, a breathy laugh sliding past their lips. The prison tunic they wear is more a rag than clothing at this point, having had it torn from their body so many times. Still, you hesitate as you finger the hem.

“Is this okay?”

They respond by gripping the collar of their shirt, starting to pull off the tunic themself and you can't help but laugh. It's a light sound, unheard of in these walls. A noise you never thought you’d make again. 

You help them pull the tunic off, pressing a quick kiss to their cheek that travels down. Lips brush over their collar bone, press against their sternum, humming against their skin. They shiver, and you can’t help but remember that, before all of this, they were a virgin. Had they been totally inexperienced? Was this their first time with how these intimate moments could actually be? Gentle and soft? You want to shove the thought out of your head, but you can’t. You don’t want to cause them more pain in any way, not right now. You don’t want to be like him.

Carefully, you find a tender nipple, giving the often bit bud a delicate kiss. “Tell me if anything hurts?”  

They make a small sound in agreement, nodding slightly, their eyes soft as they gaze down at you. 

You take your time, keeping your knee pressed against their groin as you slowly map out their body. Hands travel over their chest, their stomach, their sides. You’ve seen each other stripped of clothing countless times now, but this is different. This is safe. Of course, they’re littered with bruises and bites. You’re sure your body bears the same marks. Aguilar seemed to delight in biting, marking, but he had his favorites. Chests, stomachs. 

Nipples. Even as you try to force him from your mind, you have to stay aware of the ways he’s hurt you both. 

Their nipples look raw, almost. Bruised. You can’t find out if they’d like them touched, if they’d gasp if you sucked one into your mouth. Maybe later, if there ever is a later, you’ll get to find that out. As it is, you give each bud a kiss before making your way down. 

In a way, you want to erase the past. Who wouldn’t, with what you’ve experienced? Each bruise and healing bite you find as you move down their stomach, you kiss. A weak effort to replace the wickedness done to them, yet it’s the only thing you can do. A baptism of sorts, along their ribs, over the curve of hip, the dip of belly button.  

You pause again when you reach the fabric of their trousers. They seem to intuit your hesitancy, quickly shucking off the ripped garment before you can even ask their permission. 

Even as warmth spreads through you, your heart aches. Their thighs are a mess. More bruises and bites, now punctuated with the crescent moons of nails that had dug into their skin, pierced the delicate flesh and drew blood. You don’t hesitate, pressing a kiss to each injury you find while your hand cups their sex. They arch into your touch, small gasps sliding past their lips. 

You’re not trying to heal yourself with these acts, each second of warm skin under your lips feels like a soothing balm to your own nerves. You can only hope it’s the same for them. 

As you kiss, you toy with their sex, movements almost lazy. They squirm against you, breathing getting louder in the small room before their warm, soft hand finds the back of your head. Looking up at them, your heart thuds painfully in your chest. Their face is hot, eyes hazy and lips parted as they pant. 

“Can…can you?” Stumbling over their own words, their nails dig into the back of your scalp as they frown, more of a pout than anything, brows knitting together. They try to find how to articulate their desires before giving up with a low whine, licking their lips before shooting you a pleading look and whispering a soft “Please?” 

You think you know what they're asking for, and you're more than happy to oblige. 

Your mouth replaces the hand on their groin. 

With all the harshness you've both endured in this cell, you opt to take your time. Each lick slow and pointed, wanting to give them the attention they truly deserved, to taste every part of them at a leisurely pace. Tongue swirling around them, they mewl, a soft, sweet sound that sends a bolt of warmth shooting through you to pool between your thighs. 

Their essence spreads over your tongue like honey, the grip on the back of your head growing tighter as they try to keep from bucking into your mouth. Head growing fuzzy from the intoxicating mixture that was their taste, their voice, their touch, you dip down to lap at their hole. 

You can’t help but smile as they jerk against you. They mutter something under their breath, something that sounds suspiciously like another plea. You lick back up from their hole slowly, tongue trailing along their slit, collecting their precum. Lips seal around their tip, you suck idly and they moan low in the back of their throat, arching off the bed. Then, you delve back down, feasting upon them, licking into their hole as if possessed. 

They squeal. Control snapping, they rut against your face, legs trembling as your tongue twists into them. The only thing that keeps their thighs from clamping around your head, crushing you in a way you’re sure would be beyond bliss, is your gentle, yet firm grip. Even though you can visibly see them losing weight due to this place; plush, warm skin spills between your fingers as you hold them back. You want to smile, to laugh, but you fight the urge. It'd break the spell they're under, you think, if you had to pause now, if you didn't keep lapping at their soft hole. 

Of course, Aguilar doesn't care about any of that as he rips you away from them, off the bed, collar of your shirt digging sharply into your throat and nearly strangling you with his force. 

“Don't think I remember saying you could play without me?” His voice is low, dangerous, pale eyes flashing as he stares you down. 

For a moment, you don't remember your plan. You don't remember that this all started as a way to make this wretched prison guard think he'd succeeded in breaking you, turning you both into nothing but mindless toys, in hopes of getting him to let his guard down. All you can think of is launching yourself at him, ripping at his face, biting at his throat, screaming and tearing and acting like the savage animal that you'd been accused of being when they'd thrown you into this hell on earth, even if it meant getting beat within an inch of your life. 

And you would. You know you're not stronger than him. You'd end up with blood filling your mouth and his cock forced into your dry hole, but it'd be worth it. 

He sees it. He sees the rage in your eyes. Gripping your chin, rough fingers burning where they meet your skin, he squeezes until your bones groan, forcing you to keep eye contact as he growls, “What do you think you're doing?”  Venom drips from his words, sliding over your skin and curling around your spine.

A small sound from the bed drags his attention from you. There they are, your friend. They're propped up on their elbows, legs still splayed open yet the soft look in their eyes is gone, replaced with a hard nervousness. “W-we missed you.” Their voice is small, thin. You almost can't hear it over the adrenaline pumping through you, but you do. And the plan comes back to you. Your own plan that you'd just about thrown away. 

Could the fury in your eyes have been mistaken for lust? The tension in your body interpreted as restrained desire? You can only hope. 

With the way you've already put the plan in jeopardy, you take a risk. You reach out, touching Aguilar. Some part of you thinks that touching him like this, fingers gently splayed along his jaw, should hurt. That his skin against yours should burn and spark and smolder. Yet, it doesn’t. For the monster he acts, he is, somehow, human. For the unaware, it might even look like a lover’s touch as you softly guide the guard to look away from the bed, to face you instead.

“We missed you” you echo, “...Sir.” 

A slow smile spreads across his face. His unnerving eyes bore into yours as you try to keep from giving away your true feelings, steeling yourself for what you have to do next. 

You kiss him. 

His tongue invades your mouth immediately, and you have to fight back the urge to choke, to try to push him or squirm away. You try to picture someone else, anyone else, even as your free hand goes to his deceptively soft, cropped, brown hair, pulling him closer still. 

He’s still kissing you as he sits on the bed. For a moment, panic blares through your body, every nerve alight as he pulls you into his lap. That panic is soothed as your friend joins you, body pressed to yours, their chest to your back, and murmuring encouragement against your skin. 

They’re a breath of fresh air amongst the suffocation that is being held by Aguilar. It’s too much. His tongue down your throat. His hands roaming your body, pulling at your clothes, your shirt up, over your head, your trousers down until you had to squirm out of them lest they were torn to shreds. His cock tenting his trousers and pressing against you. Without them, their mouth on your neck, voice in your ears, you wouldn’t be able to do this. You wouldn’t be able to fake desire, or to undo his trousers. Wouldn’t be able to palm his cock, jerk him off, working him until he was fully erect, grinding yourself against him as if you actually wanted this. 

You would break down, if it wasn’t for their hands over yours and helping you work his thick cock, their free hand sliding over your skin, fingers gently prodding at your hole before sliding inside. Aguilar swallows the gasp that leaves you as you’re fingered open. This isn’t the first time you’ve been fucked in this cell, yet this is different. Even as you wrap your arms around Agular’s broad shoulders, cling to him as he all but tongue fucks your throat, this is different. This is them, your friend. Their fingers curling inside you almost experimentally, touch soft and warm. Affectionate. They dip down, pressing kisses to your shoulder blades, your spine, before you feel the wet muscle of their tongue swipe over your hole. 

Shuddering, you break the kiss. Aguilar lets out a low chuckle, his mouth free to roam, teeth dragging over your skin and nipping at fading bruises. Yet, you don’t regret it. You groan low, deep in the back of your throat. Head lolling forward, you let your brow rest on Aguilar’s shoulder as you shift your weight to your knees, giving them better access to your hole. 

Each lick is slow, cautious. This is the first time they’ve ever really got to take their time when doing something like this. With Aguilar, it was never slow. He’d fuck your throat, your knees on the cold, hard ground and hand on the back of your head, nails digging into your scalp, keeping you from even thinking from moving back. Or, he’d command one of you to lick at the other's hole to get them ready for his cock. He never gave you enough time, and you’d both rush to try to get the other as prepared as possible. This wasn't one of those frenzied, fear fueled moments. 

Despite it all, you’re aroused. You’re actually aroused right now: full of desire and want; tension building inside you, craving a release; precum starting to bead along your slit; and it’s because of them.

Heat flutters in the pit of your stomach, and it can’t be quelled by Aguilar’s presence. Even with his teeth in your skin, with his scent filling your lungs, his cock hot and heavy in your hand: he can’t ruin this. 

Their fingers slide over your sex, collecting precum before slipping back inside your hole. Scissoring their fingers, they stretch you out. Their tongue slips into you, and a tiny whine slips from your lips. You can feel the rumble of Aguilar’s laugh at the pathetic sound, something you’re sure you’ve never made before in this room. It makes you falter, hand pausing in stoking Aguilar’s cock.     

“Getting distracted by your friend, pretty thing?” He coos, voice thick, syrupy and full of rot as you struggle to remain focused. “Finally learned how to use their sweet tongue, huh?” His voice is nearly a purr, one that grates against your bones. “You help them with that? Practicing for me?”

You want to kiss him again, purely so you have the chance to bite his tongue right out of his mouth. As it is, you just nod weakly, feeding into the lie.  Rolling the pad of your thumb over his tip, you collect the thick precum leaking from his slit. You resume moving your hand, now slicked up even more with his own fluids. Even though you want this over with as quickly as possible, it’ll go easier this way. 

Yet, it’s still all too soon before he’s shoving your friend away, guiding his cock to your entrance. You don't let him bully the thing into you, instead sinking down his length yourself even as it forces the air from your lungs in a harsh gasp. The grin he gives you makes your stomach twist, hands on your hips giving you an almost teasing squeeze before you start to move.

In this cell, there are no first. You’ve ridden him before. It’s one of his favorite things to do, force you to fuck yourself on his cock. He seemed to enjoy it more when you struggled. When your friend, inexperienced as they were in sexual matters, ended up collapsing against him, thighs shaking and unable to support their own weight? He’d laughed, grabbed their hips hard enough to bruise before fucking up into them. When your body ached from the abuse he’d just put you through and left you too exhausted to ride him properly? He’d teased that he was just too big, that you’d forgotten how to be a good toy, before lifting you up and dropping you on his cock until you’d made yourself move again to avoid the organ bruising treatment.

With how many times you’ve had to ride him, bounce yourself on his cock until he filled you up and tossed you aside, you still struggle to find a rhythm. Infuriatingly, it was partially because he was right. He was big, pressing against your insides in ways you hated. That is, ways that were pleasurable. You didn’t want him to bring you pleasure, didn’t want to cum on his cock, yet trying to angle yourself so his dick wouldn’t hit those spots inside you seemed impossible. But, also, you were weak. Kept in this cell, fed poor food. It was all designed to keep you from trying to escape but had the added detriment of leaving you sapped of strength. And it was strength you needed to move yourself in any way that would make this horrid situation end.

Aguilar doesn’t mind, though. Smug grin stretched across his face as those eyes you loathed took in your struggles. No, he seems content to watch you. Or, almost content.

His eyes leave you, and he reaches out to the other prisoner, beckoning them closer. “Come here.” It’s a command they could only obey. 

The moment they’re within reach, he grabs them, yanking them into a bruising kiss. You swear you can hear their teeth click against his with the force of his kiss. His hand snakes between their legs, toying with their sex before searching out their hole. They yelp into his mouth as two fingers are thrust into them without warning, and he breaks the kiss with a laugh. “Fuck yourself on my fingers and pretend it’s my cock, sweetheart.” The way he says ‘sweetheart’ makes your skin prickle, bile rising in your throat. 

Without thinking, you cup his face in your hands.

You see the anger flash in his eyes as you turn him towards you, but you try your best to distract him, to keep him from tormenting them.

“P-Please,” you gasp, chagrined by how you stutter when the fat head of his cock hits a particularly sensitive bundle of nerves inside you. But, it helps with what you want, so you let out a breathy sigh, hoping he can’t tell how much of what you’re doing is a performance, a lie. Leaning in closer to his face, you press a small kiss to the corner of his mouth. “Please, Sir. Don’t look a-away.” You feel his lips twitch into a smile under yours. His cock drags against your insides, making the hair on the back of your neck stand on end. With another half faked, low whine, you prepare yourself to have to endure his gaze. You lean back, stomach twisting as you look into pale eyes. “Please?”

“Aw,” he coos, leaning in to recapture the space you'd created, lips brushing against your as he speaks. “Desperate for attention now, pretty?” 

You hate yourself, but you nod. “Y-Yes.”

“Yes,’ what?” There’s a teasing lit in his voice that’s made vile by the mocking light in his eyes.

“Yes, S-Sir.”

He laughs, the same cold, malicious laugh he always gave. 

It's hard, with him watching you. Before ever entering this cell, you would try to keep his eyes from landing on you. A predatory gaze that made every nerve in your body light up, screaming at you to run and hide or bare your teeth and fight. Now, you can do neither. You keep holding his face, humping his cock, hoping to get him off before he loses interest and returns to torturing your friend.

Your friend…who’s riding his fingers right next to you. You can’t help it as your eyes drift towards them. The way their muscles flex as they move, the sounds that escape them as the squirm on thick, cruel fingers. Their hole, stretched open, sloppy and lewd noises created with each cant of their hips. And their mouth. Lips parted, panting, chest heaving. Their eyes meet yours and for a moment, it feels like just the two of you again. 

It’s not a conscious thought. You reach out to them, and they arch into your touch. You don’t even have to guide them to your mouth as they lean in, capturing your lips with theirs. They moan, low and sweet, into your mouth, shuddering on Aguilar’s fingers as they cum. You can just hear the guard swear under his breath as his cock twitches harshly inside you. 

You’re jerked out of your daze as Aguilar fingers your sex, the same fingers that your friend had been humping only moments ago. Hips stuttering, your orgasm crashes over you abruptly. There's no dignity left to throw away, so you press your forehead to his shoulder as your body clenches around him. His fingers keep crudely toying with you, the hand on your hip squeezing hard enough to bruise, as he starts to fuck into your twitching body. 

When he finally cums, you have to fight from breathing a sigh of relief. Yet, the ordeal isn’t over. 

Aguilar rolls from his sitting position on the cot, pinning you underneath him and dragging your friend to lay next to you. Idly, you wonder if the cot could take the weight of three people, how it managed to remain standing though this new round of abuse, as he slides out of you. The thought is chased from your head as a hand swipes down your front, over your sex, and fingers press into your sore hole. You gasp, arching off the bed on instinct as those calloused fingers curl inside you. 

There’s no time to fully process what's happening before the fingers retreat. Aguilar holds his hand out to the other prisoner expectantly, digits glistening with a mixture of your cum and his. Obediently, they lean in, taking his fingers into their mouth. 

Something in your brain fizzles at the sight. Their lips wrapped around his fingers, down to the third knuckle. Their eyes lock on yours before sliding closed and humming as if having a delicious treat. They pull back slow, pink tongue flicking out to lick the tips of his fingers. 

He grips the back of their head, pulling them into a messy, open mouthed kiss. Even if you could look away, you don’t, watching as their tongues intertwined. 

So entranced, you don’t realize the hand swiping back over your body until those achingly probing fingers are delving you again. You’re more prepared for it this time, though, biting your bottom lip and only squirming a little as your abused hole is invaded yet again. 

This time, his hand is offered to you. 

You mirror what your friend did before you, taking his fingers into your mouth. Tongue swirling over the digits, you clean them of the mixed fluids. Once he pulls his fingers from your mouth, you’re treated to the same kiss. It’s nauseating, kissing this man, but you let him, trying to act as if you want him. 

Finally, when he’s done, he stands. You both stay on the cot as he fixes himself. The smile he gives you is almost drunk off your combined submission before he swaggers from his cell.

And now, the moment of truth. If this fails, you might find another way to make the plan work. To maybe move to a better cell, though your loath to leave your friend now. Maybe make him think it’d be okay to keep the key on him, or maybe even lure him into spending the night stretched out between you on the cramped cot.

A shudder wracks your body at the thought, sleeping next to Aguilar. You’re sure you’d wake up with his cock rutting between your thighs, hands gripping your hips, bruises blooming across your skin as he kept your legs pressed together to create pressure on his dick. If he didn’t just wake you up by fucking into your hole, fingers in your mouth to keep you from crying out too loud and an arm around your throat to subdue any half awake urge to fight. 

And what would happen to your fellow prisoner, your friend? You don’t want to think about it, but your brain doesn’t listen. The thought of waking to them getting violated makes your soul ache. Aguilar manhandling them until they were sitting on his face, forcing them to suck him off as they ate them out until they cried. Or worse, making them lay against you, fucking into them as they shuddered and sobbed into your chest. Holding them while having to touch him, having to continue the charade that you both wanted him.

No. No, you can’t wait. Not any more, not any longer. This had to work. If this didn’t work, if there wasn’t some give, you’d crumble. You can feel it, the fringes of your soul fraying, threads ready to unravel at the slightest tug. 

As Aguilar leaves, you hear it.

The cell door latches. 

Heart sinking, you slide from the bed, crawl across the cold floor. Sitting back on your heels, you look up at the handle. The dark of the room feels heavy, oppressive and thick. If you didn't know any better, you'd think there was another person in the small cell with you. Closing your eyes, you lean forward against the worn wood. 

“Please,” you mutter, “let this work. I'll do anything. Give anything. Please.”

“Both of us,” their voice says from the cot. You start, unaware they could hear you. When you look over your shoulder, they're staring at the darkness in front of you. “Both of us will.”

Waiting until you can no longer hear his footsteps, you reach up, trying the handle.

It’s ice cold, burning against your skin. And solid, refusing to unlatch, for Aguilar to have not locked it properly in his overconfident, cocky state. Tears prick at the corners of your eyes as you will it to move. “Anything,” you repeat to the door, to the darkness, to whatever would listen to your despair. “Everything.” You try to open the door again.

The knob turns in your hand.

You don’t dare question it, urging your friend up from the bed. Dressing in a hurry, hands shaking, you almost can’t believe what’s happening. But, you don’t care, either.

It’s happening. Despite the slim probability, the plan worked. Or, something worked. The door was unlocked and you’re able to slip out. Together, you make your way through the prison. It’s almost too easy, as if something is helping you along the way. But, you won’t look too hard at gift like this. 

Out, free from the prison, in the cool night air, you laugh, hugging your friend as they finally, finally, mutter their name in your ear. Spinning them around, you tell them your name in turn, before giving them a quick kiss. 

Everything feels right in the world as they pull you against them, making the kiss last longer, deeper. Right, even if you do think, for a moment, a pair of silver eyes watch you while something that feels like power swelling inside you.

You'll have time to figure everything out. You both will. Together. 

[letstalktea]

Mycorrhiza (Part 2)

Content: Myconid x Reader, Reader has a dick (or tdick, it's not specified) but no mentioned gender, noncon, multiple partners (sort of), anal sex

Word Count: 2.5k

Previous

You could feel your fingers burning as you began to claw at the dirt, scratching away at the grass and soil until it was caked under your nails. But no matter how much you dug, you didn’t seem to get any deeper. The ground was too hard and solid for you to do anything but fruitlessly fail.

Your friend was gone and you could only kneel on the ground and stare at the spot where they vanished. There was no way to explain what happened to the authorities or their family. If you were lucky, they'd be filed as a missing person and people would be sympathetic to your friend suddenly missing when you'd been together just moments earlier. More likely, however, was that you'd be a suspect in their disappearance. They'd use your drunkenness against you and say something asinine about you getting in a fight. They'd claim you killed them and hid the body. You could already see the court drama unfolding before you. Even if you were found not guilty, more people than not would suspect you.

The thoughts kept coming in, only interrupted by a faint rumbling starting beneath your knees. The vibrations below broke your delusions of an unknown, Hollywood-inspired future and shifted your focus back to the ground.

It rumbled and grumbled, until it split at the seams and an arm reached out of the very hole you'd failed to dig. The hand pressed against the ground and dragged an entire body out behind it. Bent knees straightened out so it could stand at full height.

From the hole emerged a creature, humanoid in shape but with no face as it towered over you. It was tall – about two heads taller than you if you had been standing upright – stiff, lanky, the color of beach sand stained with freshly dropped slushies, and lined with squishy jagged edges that reminded you of a piñata's trim if the paper was rigid and unyielding. Its head, or at least the thing that looked like it could be its head, had flat, bulbous growths sticking out of it at uneven angles and asymmetrical lines. Its arms were too long, reaching past its thighs.

You froze in shock as it mindlessly stood in place, not reacting in the least to your presence. If not for the fact that you had seen it crawl out of the ground with your own two eyes not less than a minute ago, you would have suspected it to be a statue. 

You held your breath, waiting anxiously to see what the creature did now that it had pulled itself free of the Earth's embrace. When it didn't move in one way or another, you tested your luck and slowly moved your hand back. It continued to stand in place, so you moved your knee back next. One limb at a time, crawling backwards as you kept your eyes locked on it to ensure you didn't catch its attention.

If you could get through the bushes, you could hide. You could run. You could escape. You didn't have to be this thing's second victim tonight. Maybe, just maybe, if you could get away you could even get help to kill this thing and look for your friend – or, their corpse – later. If anyone believed you, that is.

One agonizing moment after the other, you scuttled further and further away from the creature.

Until you moved your leg back and felt it catch on something. No, not catch. Catch would imply you had hit something and could free yourself with some effort. What stopped you was less of a catch and more of a grab.

You could hear your heartbeat ringing in your ears, taste the sweat dripping down your face and past your lips, and feel the heat searing your nerves just behind your eyes. Slowly, with labored breaths the entire time as you tried not to panic and alert the creature, you turned your head to look behind you.

You could see the bushes. Their leaves swayed gently in the breeze and the fire just behind them gave them a spectral glow. They were bountiful and vibrant, filled with young berries that animals would gladly pick off once they were ripened. They were the boarded that promised you safety.

But they were beyond your reach.

Instead of their protective embrace, your eyes traveled downward toward your caught leg. Wrapped around your ankle, at the ring of mushroom's edge, was an eggshell white hand with yellow painted fingers reaching out of the ground.

To keep from screaming, something you very much wanted to do, you covered your mouth with one of your hands. The other burned from being forced to hold up the entirety of your weight as you lashed out your free leg to try and kick at the inhuman hand holding you.

It was soft and giving to your strikes on the outside, but the layer just beneath the surface was tough and sounded hollow. It didn't appear to react to your kicks in the least, seemingly unbothered by your feeble attempts to free yourself.

Rather than the hand giving in and setting you free, it was you who finally gave in and screamed the moment another hand burst from the circle's edge and grabbed at your other foot to hold it in place. 

Hands burst forth from the ground and clawed at each of your limbs to hold you in place; your ankles, calves, wrists, forearms, one even grabbed at the fabric of your shirt and pants so fiercely that it tore your clothing to shreds, leaving you naked under the pale light if the stars and moon.

"H- HELP!" you screamed out into the night air, desperately seeking any aid you possibly could.

But you already knew that no one could hear you, let alone come to your rescue. Even if they could, there was realistically nothing they could do aside from stare. It made you aware of one terrible truth: you were going to die here.

That's why, when you heard the soft sound of fresh grass being crushed beneath the creature's feet as it walked closer, you could only look up at it with half-dead eyes.

It had no face, but you got the strangest feeling it was staring at you. Or maybe you were attributing logical reactions to an illogical situation to ease your own mind. It wasn't as if any of this made sense in the first place, so the way you tried to comprehend it shouldn't have mattered.

The creature stopped in front of you and you wondered if you would soon discover what it had done to your friend. Perhaps it would show you a worse fate. Maybe you would get lucky and wake up with a start next to the firepit after having drunk so much you passed out. It didn't matter. You were too tired to question what happened next.

The creature again became as still as a statue, but this time, because you had finally given up on escape and were listening to the world around you rather than your own thoughts, you could hear a faint humming. It was a terrible sound, like screaming, but it sounded familiar. Not in the sense that you'd heard it before, but in the same sense that a child remembered how its mother starved while she was pregnant. It was a sound carved into your ancestors' DNA and passed down to you through generations of unspoken trauma.

And it was that same trauma that forced your eyes to look forward at the creature rather than darting your pupils to confirm the movement you were seeing in your periphery. If you didn’t acknowledge that it wasn't the only one here, that others were digging themselves out of the earth around you, maybe you could lie to yourself a little longer and pretend you would be alright.

Or, you could pretend until the hands holding your body in place joined the many clawing their way out of the ground and encircled you. Now it wasn't just the singular creature in front of you but a small herd of them surrounding you on all sides.

The leader – the original one – hummed again and the others hummed in turn. The creatures holding onto you, in perfect unison, went from pinning you in place to picking up your tired body and holding you above the ground for their leader's perusal.

You were too exhausted after fighting for so long to care about how exposed you were. It was just one more short lived humiliation before you were finally killed by these things. If you were lucky, maybe they would tear you apart so that whoever found you would consider you a murder victim rather than some weird pervert who went gallivanting around campsites without your clothing. It would at least be closer to the truth than any random passerby would know.

But as they held you, skillfully flipped you over so that you were seated in their embrace and facing their leader, there was a shocking lack of hostility. If anything, the creatures seemed to be quite gentle as they moved you according to their unknowable whims.

They all hummed, and the creatures holding onto your legs spread them apart. Even with all your efforts to keep your legs together, they were stronger.

The leader stepped forward and stood motionlessly between your legs, only interrupted by a tilt of its head that reminded you of a confused dog. The thought of it delaying whatever its plans were because of confusion made you chuckle quietly. Or maybe you were laughing because there was nothing better to do.

The creature reached for its crotch – or what the equivalent of it was, at least– as smooth and bare as a plastic doll, while it continued to stare at you. As it ran its soft, ridged fingers over the blank surface, you could see something growing just below its touch.

When it moved away its hand, you could see that it was no longer sexless. Nestled between its legs was what you could only compare to a dick, alabaster and long and thick. It was the kind of beast people claimed to want when they were fucking around with their friends, but made them wary to see in real life. Except this creature wasn't human and the thing that looked like a dick was worse than a beast. 

It leaked. Not in the way a pretty cock did when it was excited, but the entire length leaked. It reminded you of the sticky white liquid that seeped out of a plant stem when it was cut, except this was pouring out in thick globs across the entire shaft.

The leader rested its thick cock, cool and sticky and slimy, against your sex, like it was comparing its work against your own.

You tried, and failed, to jerk your limbs away again so you could break free. "Get the fuck off of me!"

None of the creatures reacted to your attempt. Instead, one of them slipped two of their fingers (if you could even call the thick  appendages that) so far into your mouth that they tickled the back of your throat. It tasted of dirt, death, and decay so profusely that it made you gag.

You closed your eyes as pain assaulted you. Tears welled up and spilled over as your jaw was stretched and held open by the thing holding you in place, pain growing and festering in the corners of your mouth where the flesh was pulled taut. 

Then you felt something pinching against the entrance of your ass and your eyes flew open again.

That creature, that bipedal fungus, pressed its faux cock against the ring of muscles fighting to keep it out, forcibly prying you open – with the help of the liquid it leaked that seemed to loosen you up – as it pushed forward without a care or concern. And you screamed. Around the fingers still shoved down your throat, you screamed. You screamed in fear. You screamed in disgust. You screamed in anger. You screamed because of the pain of its cock tearing through your ass. You screamed as it bottomed out inside of you, so deep that you could feel it in your guts. You screamed when its hips pulled back, taking with it globs of that slimy stuff that had leaked into your ass during its assault. And you screamed when it did it all again.

It was fucking you.

The sloppy, brutal pace of its thrusts tore you open, the slick fluid dripping out of its cock only helping it keep its pace without catching or stuttering. It was animalistic on the surface, but there was something pragmatic and mechanical about the way it moved. Like it was mimicking something it had seen once upon a time rather than any real passion.

The group of creatures holding on to you hummed and bent your spine. As your back arched and they leaned you backward, you finally noticed that another creature had been standing behind you, and this one was as well endowed as the one already buried in your ass.

Every muscle in your body tightened as fear rippled through you, especially as the fingers in your mouth somehow stretched even further and left your jaw wide open so the creature could force its dick down your throat as the fingers absconded. The way it violated your mouth was distressingly similar to the way your ass was being fucked, almost like the two were moving in a synchronized rhythm. The taste of the goo dripping from its cock was salty, slightly rich in the same way as meat, and thick on your tongue. It was like you were drowning.

Something inside of you clenched, wound tight like a spring before it snapped, like you were about to come around the foul cocks of these things… but their movement stopped right before you tipped over the edge.

Relief washed over you as you felt the one buried in your ass pulling out. You could feel your hole still gaping and sore from the assault, but you were glad that it was over…

Until you felt another one, one you were sure was different from the other, take its place. 

As both of their rhythms fell into line again, you closed your eyes, trying to will away the pain and attempting to drift off somewhere else. Somewhere you were safe. Somewhere with your friend alive and well. Somewhere else that wasn’t here.

[brainwasheddd]

The more I think back on my reslationship with him the more I realize he was absolutely horrible and borderline abusive

[theresascove]

like animals ₊ ⊹

ellie williams x f!reader

you’re ovulating and your partner—Ellie—is looking a little too good

tw: PURE FILTH, not proofread, farmer!ellie, established relationship (gf or married, I imagined married), ellie can carry reader, e can hold onto r’s hair, needy reader, multiple rounds of sex, strap described as Ellie’s dick, strap sucking (e receiving), strap (r receiving), oral (r&e receiving), fingering (e&r receiving), muscle kink, degrading, making out, grinding, spit kink, this is straight up filth yall im not fucking joking

wc ✎ 2.5k

It seeps into your system, spreading quickly when that time arises. It makes you feel hot, insatiable. The feeling erases most common sense and fills it instead with a need. Essentially you act as if you’re in heat.

The moment you knew that time had crept up on you was when you were washing a few dishes in the sink and caught Ellie talking to your neighbor. The sun, the golden rays had been placed just ever so perfectly to shape out her muscles—her tattoo. The one that was shining with your wetness just a day ago?

She was keeping a conversation going between the two of them whilst picking up and moving these bails of hay. Safe to say the water ran over your still fingers as you eyed her, checking her out.

Started with her arms before it switched over to her back. There were times when she was working in the heat of the day, so she’d remove her top shirt while cooling off. You met her on the porch, handing her a glass of tea and checking in on her. That’s when you noticed her fingers. The length, veins, the way she held onto the glass. Truth be told, you barely heard a thing she said.

Walking down the steps? Your eyes were hooked on her back as she put her shirt back on. The thoughts were getting increasingly intense with each passing minute. Just before her shirt completely slipped over her back—covering it—you noticed the light scars on her skin. The little scars you planted there after a session not too long ago. Fuck you needed her. Ellie had reached the bottom step when you finally found your voice.

“Els—?”

She hums, turning around and getting rightfully spooked at how close you covered the space between you two. You made it to the bottom of the steps, pulling on her jean loop to kiss her. She’s a bit taken aback but ultimately ends up kissing back—bringing a hand to cup your cheek. Your heart skips when you feel her hand slide down your body, holding and gripping onto your waist.

“Mm was that all you needed?”

You should say yes. Yes, you’re done, nothing else, continue working—

“No,” you grip onto her like she’ll leave, “no, Ellie I need more.”

You’re so blessed when you feel her silly grin, it makes you giddy inside. A laugh breaking from you when she holds under your thighs and carries you back inside—pushing you against the wall. Since waking up with a fuzzy mind already, all this making out did was send you into outer space. Something Ellie loves to talk about when you sit out on the porch at night, looking at the stars.

“Please,” you beg, voice whiny, “please Ellie, don’t tease.”

She had her lips on your neck, engaging in your usual foreplay. It was absolutely maddening, you wanted her fingers in you now—not whatever this was. Usually it’s nice, but now it’s frustrating you.

You grip her hand that was placed on your hip, pulling it down to your already dripping cunt.

Usually you’d never do this, but this time it’s different. You’re drunk in your own lust.

Ellie catches on quickly, pulling your garments off and hiking one thigh over her hip—spreading you out for her. She drags her fingers up your heat and chokes on a moan.

“Shit you’re soaked, like—holy shit.”

You loose your mind when she pushes a finger though. Nails dig into her shoulder and your lips are dropped open in a shaky gasp. Her fingers, her lips, her sweaty hair and skin, her arms, her thighs, the way the pants sit on her waist, her ass, her voice—everything about her was turning you on.

You came embarrassingly quick. Might’ve been a new record. The moment your eyes opened this morning you felt as if you were already on edge, rubbing your thighs together to try and get some of the edge off. But you should’ve known nothing would except her.

She laughed a little, drawing her fingers out and wiping them on her pants.

“Love you,” she mumbles, pressing a kiss to your lips and wondering back out onto the porch—leaving you panting against the wall.

Little did she know that didn’t sedate you, it only fueled the fire.

You met her in the barn later, catching her when she was staring to feed the horses. The way she had you this morning had crept up when she came into view and reminded you yet again of how attractive she was.

“Do we need more horse feed soon? Looks like we just have two barrels left.”

She looks back at you, momentarily stopping her scoop of the feed, “yeah sounds good. I can put the order in tonight.”

“I can do it, it’s no problem.”

She stood full height, looking to you with a bit of confusion in her eyes, “why’re you out here?”

To see you.

“Doing an inventory check.”

She hummed, moving along to feed your third horse. You stood there, shoulder leaned against the barn wall—eyeing her move around and do the chores you’re very similar with. She noticed, eyes changing in color after a bit when she realized the intent.

She tossed the scoop back into the barrel before her hands pulled your hips towards hers as she leaned in for a quick kiss. She had an arrogant smile, one that made you feel things. You reached a hand into her hair, pulling her back down for a kiss after a kiss after a kiss.

Next thing you knew you were being pushed back into the small tack room, shoved back against the table. She had you sat up on the table, legs wrapped around her shoulders as she ate you out. Your sounds filled the room, reaching her ears and transforming into a melody so beautiful it made Ellie’s throb. She moaned herself from your sounds and the way you tasted on her tongue.

You could almost cry, it felt amazing. It was like rain on a hot day, cooling you off from the warm that filled you. She’s holding your legs wide, arms wrapped around them so you can’t close them on her head. And fuck it’s driving you crazy, because any jolt of your hips has her muscles flexing.

“Els—“ you gasp, eyes dazed, “please.”

She had her eyes locked onto yours, her pupils blown wide just like yours. Only took another movement and you were coming on her tongue, head falling onto the wall behind you. It feels good, it always feels good—but now, each orgasm has increased tenfold. She stands to her full height, bringing a hand through her hair to brush it back and out of her face before reaching to help you. It was like it was practiced—long fingers gripping your chin, tipping it back so she could kiss you and let her spit (with the taste of you) fall onto your tongue.

You stand on wobbily legs, mind running around from the enactments just before. She had you wrap your arms around her shoulders as she sets your clothes back on straight—sharing kisses in between.

“Mm, my lips are all swollen now—“ you complain, but despite that you’re leaning back in for another kiss.

“You can tell me to stop,” she says, voice rasping near your ear.

You should. It was only noon. The last thing this farm and the both of you needed was the two of you going at it once again. The absolute last thing needed was you finding another way to meet her in the middle of a task to distract her. Nobody needed it, and yet it happened again.

You had met her near the house, seeing her talk to someone she’s introduced you to and yet you’ve forgotten the name. He’s an older man, near his 70s. Faintly you recall Joel, Ellie’s sort of father figure, introducing him to you as well. Due to the missing name, you gave him a polite smile instead and asked how his day was going. He was on his way eventually, hopping back in his truck and driving off.

“What did he need?”

She waves it off, resting her hands on her hips, “nothing, what’d you need?”

It had happened all too quick and before either of you could fully grasp it you had her spread beneath you, hot moans escaping her from the way you had her writing in pleasure. It flowed almost naturally. Just bringing her down with you when you reached the house. It was near her office, just outside the door.

Her leg was hiked up, giving you room to lick her all over and to easily move your fingers into her cunt. She was just as drenched as you were earlier, the sessions you shared only teasing her—so now it was your chance to give back. You needed her. Each time she made you come, she was up and out the door immediately after. Now, you were going to make her stay, she couldn’t wiggle herself out.

A hand was gripping your hair, pulling you into her—while the other was draped over her face. Her skin was flush, hot to the touch and tan from the sun. Some areas were tan, her farmers tan was quite obvious. She felt like she was on cloud nine in many ways. The way you looked beneath her—eyebrows furrowed and moaning against her, red lips, watching you pump your fingers into her—it drove her insane. Her hands gripped you tighter, force put into it this time.

“S-shit, come on,” she says, voice scratchy, “you can do it better, I know you can. Fucking come on.”

You tried, genuinely feeling like you weren’t doing something—but whatever you did, it broke her over the edge. She came with a loud, stretched out cry—hips pushing against your tongue and fingers.

“O-oh, fuck. Fuckfuck, so good.”

It sedated you enough. The post-orgasm would help you feel relief. Any pent up energy, the type that ran through you like molten lava at just the sight of her, would decrease. Not vanish entirely, but a good chunk of it would decrease.

The reason why it didn’t vanish entirely is because just as you were making dinner, Ellie—fresh out of the shower—had come to wrap her hands around you from behind. Kisses were placed down your neck, moving to bite as she then pressed her hips into you.

“Feel that,” she asks with a teasing grin.

You hum, moving your head so she can kiss you on your neck some more. It’s embarrassing how quickly you get turned on yet again. You’ve come two times from her and leaned down under her to make her come a total of one time as well. You should stop, but yet again she found a way onto you this time—and who were you to stop it. You never wanted the feeling to stop.

The feeling of her skin on yours is intoxicating, and the first time you felt it today. Her tits on yours, her hair brushing your forehead, her thighs brushing yours. Her smell too, brought you to feel all the more bothered. She smelled heavenly, in many ways. The way she smells right out of a shower is the best moments. You genuinely look forward to it as if hinted at the beginning of the soft section of the day.

Usually, anyways.

“Deeper, come on.”

Her fingers, the one you’ve been eyeing all day, were gripping your hair—forcing you to take her strap deeper. You had beautiful unsheathed tears in your eyes, looking like diamonds with how you were looking up at her—the lamp lights reflecting off of them.

You’ve been gagging, nails gripping into her thighs—and she hasn’t let up. Knowing you’re enjoying it if the slick dripping onto the floor wasn’t a sign enough. She lets you lead it for a second, vision dark and full of lust as she watches you bob your head on her length.

“Yeah—yeah, just like that,” she says with a tone that makes you squirm, “suck my dick.”

And you do, until it’s covered in your saliva—enough for her to slam you onto the kitchen table. Your chest is pushed against the cold wood—making your nipples stand to their full attention. She grinds her length over your underwear, slipping it and letting it get caught touching your clit. It was all purposeful, she wanted you to beg for her—act like you’re in heat.

You do, no shock. Hips grind back on hers, tears in your cheeks as you try and hint.

“Shh, no crying, tell me what you want.”

“Fuck me,”you whisper, voice cracking, “please Els.”

She slides your under garnet to the side with her thumb, before pushing through. Your bottom lip drops open in a prolonged silent gasp. It stings so good, spreading you wide and open. It does something to your mind when she leans back and it pulls you back with her. Ellie groans softly from that, just from seeing how tight you are.

“Damn,” she drags her fingers around your entrance, “so fucking tight even though I’ve fucked you senseless just the other night.”

You nod, pushing back, “please Ellie, please fuck me I can’t—I need you, please!”

She finally does, settling a rough pace from the start. It shoves your thighs against the table side, and they act like a barrier. With it keeping your hips steady and set against a line—it makes her thrust all the more powerful. Your nails dig lines into the wood, tearing it up as you cry.

It’s so good. So good you can barely care to try and think about anything. The water bill, the burnt food—nothing. Nothing but her. It was so good.

From her side, you were laid out in front of her like a buffet on the table. Your ass moving with each thrust, it was hypnotic. She couldn’t keep her eyes away. Close to that was your face, half turned and shoved against the table—body sliding with each quick thrust. You practically bawled when you came, her length being grounded against that spongy spot while her fingers worked circles around your clit.

You legitimately thought you saw stars, mind dizzy as you came down from your high. Ellie was panting behind you, a dork look on her face as she stares down at the way you still grind back on her—despite having just come.

“You can tell me to sto—“

“No!”

It was going to be a long night.

taglist — @picklesarenice69

[emcads]

🧑‍🤝‍🧑🧑‍🤝‍🧑how do they feel about having multiple partners at once? have they ever done it?

🫶 what does after care look like for them?

SINDAY HEADCANONS / accepting !

🧑‍🤝‍🧑🧑‍🤝‍🧑 how do they feel about having multiple partners at once? have they ever done it?

she absolutely has fantasies about it but as far as actually participating in real life, it's definitely something she would have to be exposed to and come around to: she tends to think of sex as a one-on-one, intimate affair, and if she has any notions about multiple partners it's something she attaches to multiple women in service of a single man's pleasure, which isn't something she's necessarily interested in. ( i.e. if jack had invited her to participate in a threesome with another woman in shipwreck cove, particularly with a sex worker, he'd get an immediate no. lol. ) i would say in canon she's never done it but she would really enjoy it, so long as she remained the center of attention. hehe :^) but no in all honesty she would be a little self-conscious about being paid less attention to, or even objectified, at least the first time, so whoever her partners were would have to dote on her a little more than usual. once she gave it a shot though she'd very quickly come around to the idea. i would say she's not fussy about the gender makeup of the people involved. she loves the idea of two+ men doting over her but she also loves the idea of doting on another woman so.

🫶 what does after care look like for them?

depends ! typically playing with each other's hair, snuggling, a little giggling. she usually cleans herself up but she really, really likes it when her partner does it: wiping up any fluids with a wet rag, combing out her hair, wiping off any smeared makeup. she doesn't often get intensive ( or god forbid, any ) aftercare simply by dint of the situations she finds herself in when she's having sex, the pirate life and all that, but even when it's just a quick 'taking advantage of the situation' there will usually be something. picking up each other's trinkets off the ground and setting each other to rights.

[smileysuh]

dark protector

🌙 starring. Choi Seungcheol x afab!Reader

🔮 preview. “When I’m balls deep in your pussy, watching you writhe under me, listening to your pretty sounds- that will be the cherry on top of this birthday,” he explains. “Thank you for wanting to make me feel good, but- usually, baby, I like to be the giver.”

tw/cw. mentions of past relationship abuse/trauma/cheating, alcohol, bar fights, Cheol gets grazed with a knife, unprotected sex, dry humping, hand job, blow job, pussy eating, fingering, pleasure dom!Cheol, breast worship, dirty talk, praise, size kink/manhandling, multiple reader orgasms, groping, Cheol is a big muscled tattooed man, creampie, birthday sex, etc… I pet names: (hers) baby.

👹 rating.18+ explicit I wc. 14.2k

🍭 aus. tattoo/motorcycle au, nurse!reader, soulmates, etc…

☀️ mlist + an.  The tarot deck used in the prologue is ‘The Wild Unknown Animal Spirit Guide Deck’ by Kim Krans. I had so much fun exploring a more spiritual-themed plot, the idea of soulmates and spirit guides and such :)

Prologue

It’s been six months since your breakup. Six months of self-work and healing practices. Six months of connecting with your spirit guides, hoping you can work through this dark period of your life and come out the other side.

You’ve just gotten off a long shift at the hospital, where you work as an emergency room nurse. Cleaning up other people’s messes makes you feel a little more whole every day, it shows you that while your wounds might be deeper than the skin, you have the resources to fix things that seem unfixable.

After a shower, you slump onto your couch, your hands reaching for one of your tarot decks. It’s as if you can feel the energy radiating off your spirit animal cards, and you remove them carefully from the box, holding them close to your chest.

“Spirit,” you say softly. “I think I’m finally ready to try dating again. But I’m scared. I’m scared I’ll end up in the same situation as last time, finding a man who needs to be fixed- I know my pattern is finding broken men, and I’m done with that. I need guidance. I need some sort of sign that will show up when I meet the right person.”

Part of your healing journey was writing down what traits you’d want in a partner. You’d made a list that included, ‘kind, smart, patient, stable, loyal, and protective,’ and you’d folded to your own physical tastes by writing ‘tattoos’ as well. You can’t help it, you like the way art looks on skin, and although all the tatted bad boys you’ve dated in the past have been assholes, you’re holding onto a hope that you can find a good man with tattoos. You know they’re out there, you just have to find one.

“Spirit, can you help me pull a card, and whatever animal is on that card could be a tattoo that my future significant other would have?” you ask. “Please don’t choose a lion or a wolf or something super common- I want an animal that is a little more unique, something that couldn’t just be coincidence… but, I mean, if my soulmate is meant to have a wolf then I guess I can make that work.”

You hate questioning your guides, hate putting boundaries on them. If your soulmate has a stupid, overdone tattoo like every other man with ink, then so be it.

Taking a deep breath, you begin to shuffle your spirit animal deck. 

You’re not being too fast with your shuffle, you prefer to sit for a long time and wait for cards to pop out rather than force a reading with erratic motions. Focusing on your breathing, and your ask from the spirit, you wait patiently.

Soon, a card pops out, landing on the coffee table in front of you.

An Elk looks up at you, and you take a moment to assess the card before finding the guide book.

You flip to the Earth section, finding the Elk easily. There are a few keywords at the top of the reading, they say ‘Stable, resilient, headstrong, the father.’

Stable is a word you’d written into your boyfriend manifestation notes, and you consider that for a moment before reading further. 

“The great Elk represents the Earth element in its masculine form. This means it provides underlying support and stability amidst life’s many changes. An Elk personality is fully established in themselves and knows their core values. They become known and respected for acting in ways that uphold those values. Sometimes the Elk’s ego can become inflated, but for the most part, they make damn good fathers, mothers, lovers, and friends. The world needs more elk energy.”

You think about the type of man who could be stable, whether that’s financially or emotionally. You’re hoping to find a man as set and in love with his job as you are- the kind of man you could build a future with. You’d be lying if you said you hadn’t been thinking about kids, and the note that Elk personalities make good fathers and lovers makes the feeling of hope stir within you.

However, the Elk - like the Lion and the Wolf -  is a pretty common tattoo. 

“I’m wondering if I should ask for a second card,” you tell your guides. “This deck has numerous animals connected to zodiac signs. Fish for Pisces, Scorpion for Scorpio… I know not all zodiacs have an animal correlated to them, so I won’t use this as a defining factor, but… maybe to make things even a little more specific, could you help me pull a card to represent the zodiac sign for my future Elk tattooed boyfriend?” 

This feels like a lot. And you’re aware that there are only a few cards in this large deck that will actually connect to the zodiac, so you prepare yourself for a dud card.

You begin to shuffle, and this time, a card pops out even faster than the first. It’s face down on your coffee table, and you take a breath, willing this to be a sign.

When you flip the card, you find a lion staring up at you.

The lion is correlated with the Leo zodiac, and you swallow thickly, thinking about the traits generally connected to Leos. The words that come to mind are ‘confident, loyal, ambitious, and protective,’ two of which are traits you’d manifested.

You find your guidebook again, reading the top line of traits: “Patient, regal, a complete master.”

“The Lion is a master of the fire element and the living mascot of self-transformation. A lion personality dedicates their life to personal and spiritual growth. This dedication inspires some and intimidates others, therefore the Lion is respected by all but known intimately by few. Some mistake the Lion as hard to access or aloof, yet those with a keener eye know better. Lions are observant, stealth, and precise in their words and actions. They do not waste energy or resources. This card reminds us that self-mastery is available to all, no matter where our quest begins.”

You consider your reading as you put your deck away and head to bed. A Leo man with an Elk tattoo, someone who is patient, stable, headstrong, loyal, and maybe a little egotistical, but hopefully not in any ways that would be damaging to you like your narcissist of an ex-boyfriend.

You’re prepared to not find a man who fits this bill, but you feel a little better about narrowing down the traits you’re attracted to. Some people don’t believe in tarot, and while you can understand that, this reading has spoken to you in a way that you can’t quite explain.

There’s no timeline to the reading, and you won’t be restricting yourself waiting for a man with an Elk tattoo to sweep you off your feet, but it feels a little easier having some parameters. 

When you fall asleep, you dream of a large man standing in shadows, Elk-like antlers protruding from his head. 

One:

“Tell me again how you found out about this place?” you sigh, getting out of your best friend’s car to stare at the tattoo studio.

“God, I’ve told you a hundred times,” Sunmin rolls her eyes. “One of my sister’s boyfriend’s cousins’s boyfriends work here.”

“I’m going to need you to say that slower.”

“My sister’s boyfriend, Jeonghan, his cousin is dating one of the artists here, and he says they’re all super hot. And I figured, since your tarot cards told you a few months ago that you’ll find some dude with an elk, a tattoo shop is a good place to look for him.”

“Okay, but please don’t bring up the actual tarot,” you plead. “People judge me for that shit all the time.”

“My lips are sealed but my eyes will be wide open,” she grins.

The two of you enter the tattoo shop, and the air conditioning is a welcome reprieve from the hot summer outside. Your friend chats with the receptionist about her consultation with an artist named Vernon, and soon the two of you are being escorted deeper into the studio.

It’s an open plan layout, with small sections for each artist. Only one man is currently tattooing someone, and you suppose that since it’s the morning, they likely get busier as the day goes on.

There’s a large man who approaches you and your friend as you sit in Vernon’s section. “Hi! You must be Vernon’s ten o’clock consultation! I’m Mingyu. Vernon’s just chatting with our boss in the back, but he’ll be out pretty quick.”

“Hi, I’m Sunmin and this is y/n,” your friend introduces you. “We have no problem waiting.”

“Cool. I don’t have a client for a while, I can keep you guys company while you wait for Vernon if you’d like.”

“We’d love that,” Sunmin beams. 

“How did you guys hear about us?” Mingyu asks, taking a seat on the tattoo artist chair.

“My sister’s boyfriend’s cousin is dating one of the guys who work here,” Sunmin explains.

“Is your sister’s boyfriend Jeonghan?” 

You’re shocked the man was able to follow what Sunmin just said.

“Yup! That’s him!” Sunmin confirms.

“Love that guy,” Mingyu grins. “Yeah, I’m dating his cousin. He told me he’d tell others about the shop but I didn’t think he’d actually follow through with it.”

“Well, here he is, following through,” Sunmin laughs. 

“So is this tattoo consult for you?”

Sunmin nods. “Yup! I’ve always liked ink, got a few small pieces, but I wanted something bigger for my thigh.” 

“How about you?” Mingyu asks. “Any future tattoo plans?”

“Not at the moment,” you respond, gaze shifting to a door that leads to the office in the back. Two men have come out, they’re both quite handsome, dressed in oversized hoodies that obscure any ink on their torsos. 

“I’ve actually been looking at elk tattoos,” Sunmin lies, “know anyone with anything like that?”

Mingyu opens his mouth to respond, but one of the men from the back is already approaching. “Hi, are you Sunmin?” he asks.

“That’s me,” your best friend beams.

“I’m Vernon,” the soft looking man smiles. Mingyu gets out of his seat, bidding a quick farewell before going back to his own section. As Vernon and Sunmin begin to talk about her tattoo plans, you find your eyes shifting to the man who must be the boss as he walks over to inspect the tattoo taking place.

He’s got a nice build, and you can see the outline of strong shoulders even from under his large black hoodie. He rolls up the sleeves, and you can see he’s heavily inked, but from a distance, you can’t make out any elk-like marks. 

Sunmin had done her best to try to ask Mingyu about a tattoo fitting what your tarot had told you to watch out for, but you suppose you shouldn’t be shocked that your soulmate isn’t in the first shop you’ve gone into. 

You relax against your chair, listening to Sunmin and Vernon talk.

You’ll do your best to find your Elk inked Leo, but you suppose you can’t rush the process.

Two: 

You’re at a bar with friends when you hear a commotion just outside. As the designated driver of the night, you haven’t touched any drinks, and although it might not be anything serious, your emergency room nurse instincts kick in, drawing you to the possible danger as you quickly make your way to the front of the bar.

You catch the tail end of what’s happening, one bouncer chasing after some guy who’s booking it down the street, and another man being held back by a second security guard. 

The man being held back looks enraged, and he manages to break out of the bouncers grasp- which is when you see blood on the back of his white shirt.

“Fuck that guy,” the injured man snarles, and when he turns, you catch a glimpse of his profile.

It’s the man from the tattoo parlour, the one you assumed was the boss.

While he looks extremely pissed off, you can’t help but approach. “Excuse me,” you say quietly, grabbing his attention. “You’re bleeding.”

“Am I?” He looks over his shoulder, grabbing at his shirt where the blood is. “Fuck, he must have grazed me.”

Must have grazed him… with a knife?

“I’m uh… I’m an ER nurse, do you mind if I take a look?” you ask.

“I’ll grab the first aid kit,” the bouncer tells you, darting back into the bar.

“I’m fine,” the tattooed man tells you.

“Then there’s no harm in me taking a look to confirm that.” You try to smile softly at him.

The man looks at you, narrowing his eyes. “Don’t I know you from somewhere?”

“I think I was at your parlour last week, my friend had a consult,” you explain. “I’m y/n.”

He looks you up and down. “Seungcheol.”

You can see the anger and tension dissipating from his shoulders. 

“Why don’t you take a seat on the curb and I’ll look at your shoulder?” you suggest.

Seungcheol sighs, but does as he’s told. He sits down, grabbing at the back of his shirt. You catch him wince as he tugs the bloodied fabric off, and you’re shocked at what’s revealed.

It’s not the slight gash that makes you take a step back, it’s the Elk head tattoo on the center of his spine, with large antlers tangling up toward the back of his neck.

“Is it that bad?’ Seungcheol asks, looking over his shoulder at you again.

“No, it’s not that.” You do your best to compose yourself, kneeling down to look at the wound, although your eyes keep going back to the Elk. 

The bouncer returns with the first aid kit, and Seungcheol sits there quietly while you clean the wound. “You’re right that it was a graze, but I still think stitches would be a good idea,” you tell him.

“I’m not going to the hospital,” Seungheol responds while you press gauze to the wound, bandaging him up with medical tape. 

“Why not?”

“I just don’t like hospitals,” the beefy tattooed man says simply.

You release a sigh. “Listen, I’m going to give you my number, and if there’s any sign of infection, call me, okay?”

“You said you're an emergency room nurse, right?” he asks, standing up when you finish with his shoulder.

“Uh huh.” Words evade you as you look at his chiseled chest, and you do your best not to be too obvious at the way you’re gawking at him.

“Aren’t you going to ask me what I did to piss off the dude with the knife?”

“It’s not important,” you respond quickly. “You identified it as a knife wound, and that’s all I needed to know.”

“I was in the emergency room one time, got stabbed by some kid outside a strip club, the nurses kept pestering me about the details. It’s one of the reasons I don’t like hospitals,” Seungcheol explains.

“Well, your business is your business,” you tell him. “All I care about is that your wound doesn’t get infected, and you take care of it if you’re not getting stitches.”

Seungcheol’s gaze feels hot as he stares at you, and then he pulls his phone out of his pocket, handing it to you. “Here. For your number.”

Your fingers are shaky as you type in your digits before handing it back to him, and you can’t help but notice the way your hands briefly touch.

“I need a drink,” Seungcheol says. “You coming back inside? I’ll buy you something, as a thank you for not pestering me.”

“No thanks is necessary,” you try to assure him, but Seungcheol is already reaching for your hand.

“Don’t fight this,” he tells you. “Let me say thank you in the way that I know how.”

You allow the big burly man to guide you back into the bar. He orders himself a shot of tequila, then turns to you expectantly.

“Uh, can I get an iced tea?” you ask.

“Not drinking?”

“I’m the designated driver tonight,” you explain. “My friends are over there-” you turn and catch your whole table of friends staring at you. 

Seungcheol follows your gaze and smirks, offering your friends a small wave. “Okay, so you're a stay in your lane ER nurse, and you’re a designated driver.”

“That sums it up I guess,” you laugh.

“She’ll get an iced tea,” Seungcheol tells the bartender.

You like that he’s not pushing you. Some people pressure you to drink when you’re out, but you like to have your head screwed on straight on your shoulders. You never know when an emergency is going to happen, and your soul calling is helping people. On top of that, it’s nearly midnight, and you’ve got a shift in five hours that you need to be sober for.

“I’m trying to find red flags with you, you know?” Seungcheol says nonchalantly. “But so far, I’m not seeing any.”

“Maybe that’s because I don’t have any?” you suggest.

“I’ve been told I’m a walking red flag,” Seungcheol muses. 

“Tattoos can be deceiving,” you point out, although, studies do show that people with trauma are more likely to be inked- all your ex’s have had tattoos, and they’ve all had dark pasts. You can’t help you type, and staring at the man with the elk on his back, you wonder if this is going to be just another repetition. 

Your drinks are set in front of you and you watch Seungcheol down his tequila shot. He shakes his head out a little at the taste, and you appreciate the way his dark curls look with the motion. 

“Anyways, you’re here with friends, I won’t keep you,” he sighs.

“Thanks for the iced tea,” you smile softly.

“Don’t mention it,” Seungcheol nods.

You mirror the movement, grabbing your drink and heading back to your table.

The moment you’re seated, all your friends erupt into chatter.

“Who was that?!” one asks.

“He was hot!” another friend notes.

“Wasn’t that the dude from the tattoo shop?” Sunmin questions, looking after Seungcheol. “Is he… bleeding?”

“Yeah, it’s the guy from the parlour,” you sigh. “His name is Seungcheol, and yes, someone tried to stab him outside.”

“Jesus!” Sunmin’s eyes widen. “But… he bought you a drink?”

“I just cleaned the wound and bandaged it,” you explain. “He insisted on getting me a drink.”

“Well… that’s nice, isn’t it?” one of your friends says thoughtfully.

“I guess.” It’s clear you don’t want to talk about this further, and your friends quickly go back to discussing something else, but you inch closer to Sunmin. “He has a tattoo.”

“He has a lot of tattoos,” she laughs.

“No, he has like… this big elk head and antlers on his back.”

“What?!” 

“Don’t make a big deal out of it,” you warn her, not wanting her to raise her voice too loud so your other friends hear. You’re quite private about your spiritual leanings. Being a woman of science, and ER nurse no less, sometimes it feels like believing in fate isn’t something that works well with your job.

“We’re talking about this later,” Sunmin tells you.

“Yeah.”

You sit back, thinking about it.

Obviously your interaction with Seungcheol was short. He came off as a bit of a hot head, perhaps you’d even use the word brash- there was certainly a level of ego that radiated off of him as well, but, at the same time, he’s one of the most handsome tattooed men you’ve ever met.

You’d asked your guides for a sign, and tonight, the Elk had bared its antlered head.

Now it’s up to you to decide if you trust in fate, or if this is all just a coincidence. 

Three:

You’re about seven hours into your eight hour shift. Having started at five am, after being a designated driver and getting your friends home at three, you’re quite tired. Things were very busy for a while in the emergency room, but for whatever reason now that it’s noon, things have seemed to calm down a little.

You’re just sitting in the nurse station with your coworker Joshua when your phone buzzes in your pocket. It’s an unknown number, and at first, you’re not sure if you should answer it.

Against your better judgement, you bring your phone to your ear, “Hello?”

“Is this the stay in your lane ER nurse who’s also the designated driver?”

You let out a sigh. “Y/N.”

“Yeah, you.”

“Hi, Seungcheol.”

“Hi. So, I tried to stitch up the wound when I got home, and I’m not sure if I did a good job.”

“You tried to stitch it up?” you ask, already exasperated. “Why didn’t you ask me to do it at the bar?”

“I just didn’t,” he says simply.

“Send me a pic of the stitches,” you instruct.

“One sec.”

You wait patiently, and Joshua catches your eyes. ‘What’s happening?’ he mouths.

You quickly mute your call. “Some guy I helped at the bar last night got grazed by a knife, he didn’t want stitches, but decided to try to stitch himself up this morning.”

“What the fuck?” Joshua laughs.

“Okay, sent.” Seungcheol’s voice makes you hit the unmute button, and you open your messages to see the picture.

Joshua rolls closer, staring at your phone. While Seungcheol’s broad muscular back is a bit of a distraction, the stitch up job on the wound is sloppy, and draws most of your attention.

“Seungcheol,” you sigh. “I’m going to say this in the nicest possible way. You might be a tattoo artist, but your stitching skills are sub par at best.”

The line is quiet for a moment, then you hear a chuckle. “Someone’s in a grouchy mood.”

Joshua’s eyes widen, and he looks at you for your response. 

“You would be too if you spent all yesterday sleeping, woke up to be a designated driver for your friends, got home at three and had to be at work for five.”

“Oh… are you at work now?”

“Uh huh.”

“I shouldn’t bother you then,” Seungcheol says quickly.

“It’s no bother,” you assure him. “Look, I’m off in an hour. I’ll swing by to your shop to check out the stitching. Most stitches should be sewn within six to eight hours, we’re bordering on twelve- I just want to make sure there’s no infection.”

“You should just go home after work.”

“You should listen to your ER nurse and let her help you,” you retort, too tired to argue with him over this.

Seungcheol makes a groaning sound. “Fine.”

“See you in an hour.”

You hang up the phone and Joshua looks you up and down. “What’s his deal?”

“Honestly,” you sigh, “I couldn’t tell ya.”

Four:

You and Joshua often have the same shifts, and you carpool together to feel more green, so it’s Joshua who drives you to the tattoo parlour when you’re done work.

Seungcheol is waiting outside, arms crossed over his broad chest, and he eyes Joshua as the both of you get out of the car. 

“Hey,” Seungcheol says as you approach, “who’s this?”

“My coworker, Joshua,” you introduce them, and Joshua has the decency to hold out a hand.

You hold your breath, releasing it when Seungcheol gives him a customary curt handshake.

“He’s your ride?” Seungcheol asks.

“Uh huh, is that a problem?”

“I just don’t feel comfortable having him around while you check out my shoulder, even if he does work with you” Seungcheol explains. “Listen, I’ve got a motorcycle and an extra helmet in the shop, how about I take you home after this?”

Both men look at you, and for a moment, you feel flustered and put on the spot.

You’ve never been on a bike before- but fuck it, you’re too tired to work through Seungcheol’s weird alpha behavior and territorial mentality about you having a male coworker with you.

“That works,” you agree. “Thanks for the ride, Josh.”

“Text me when you’re home,” he warns, pulling you in for a hug.

You can practically feel Seungcheol staring daggers at the two of you when Joshua pulls away and heads back to his car.

Seungcheol’s demeanor is a bit icy as he leads you into the shop. You notice Vernon and Mingyu. Mingyu even says a loud “Hi, y/n!” and you nod politely as Seungcheol takes you into the back office, closing the door.

“So, is that dude your boyfriend?” he asks, heading to the first aid kit already open on his desk.

“No, I’m not seeing anyone right now. My last ex, uh… he did a number on me.” 

“Yeah?” Seungcheol takes off his shirt while you grab medical gloves to pull on. “Wanna talk about it?”

“I’m not sure what there is to say,” you admit with a sad laugh.

“Then you don’t have to say anything,” he decides.

“How about you?” you ask, softly prompting him to turn away from you on his spinny chair so you can assess the wound, gently removing the gauze. 

“What about me?” he counters.

“Are you seeing anyone?”

“Nope.” He’s quiet for a moment. “My ex was a bit of a shit show too.”

“Well I guess we’re kindred in that at least,” you smile, leaning close to get a better look at his shoulder. 

Seungcheol shivers slightly, and you think your breath on his throat must have set him off a little, but he stays silent. You notice his hands balling into fists on his thighs.

“I think your stitching can stay, but I’m going to clean your wound again and rebandage it.”

“Sounds good,” Seungcheol responds gruffly.

“While I’m doing this, do you mind if I ask about your tattoo? This big Elk?” You gently graze your surgical gloved pinky finger down his spine, and Seungcheol shivers again.

“Jesus, don’t do that,” he snaps.

“Sorry. It’s a pretty tattoo, I couldn’t help myself.” Your skin is heating with embarrassment, and you notice Seungcheol’s ears turning red too.

“I uh,” he swallows thickly. “My grandma was a tarot reader. She was always doing these readings, very connected to the Earth and shit. She used to tell me I had an Elk soul, like her. Something about spiritual guidance, protection, kindred souls or some shit. I’m not super into that stuff, but when she died, I kept having these stupid Elk dreams. Sort of felt like she was trying to communicate with me- if you believe in that sort of thing. Anyways, I figured if I got the tattoo, I’d feel closer to her, like she has my back.”

This is not the tattoo explanation you’d ever considered would come from a man like Seungcheol, and it takes you a few moments to register it and decide on a response.

“It sounds like you were very close with your grandma, I’m sorry that she passed.”

“It’s okay,” Seungcheol shrugs it off. “Shit happens.”

And just like that, he’s closing up again.

You wonder if you should tell him about your tarot connections, but you don’t want to sound like some crazy chick if you mention your spirit guides pointing you toward an Elk. Instead, you bite your tongue as you finish up his wound. 

“All done,” you announce.

Seungcheol doesn’t say anything as he stands up and puts on his shirt. “What’s your address?” he asks, pulling out his phone.

You show him on the maps where you live. “Are you sure you want to give me a ride? Don’t you have… clients?”

“I can get you home and be back in time for my next appointment,” he assures you. “Think of this as another way of saying thank you for fixing me up.”

So far, he’s shown two love languages. He’s bought you a drink, and now he’s doing an act of service. He’d seemed hesitant on touch today, unlike last night when he’d been drinking, and you wonder what his history in relationships is like.

It sounds like you’ve both had shitty past experiences.

You just want to figure him out.

“Have you been on a bike before?” Seungcheol asks, grabbing a small black fullface helmet off a shelf of motorcycle memorabilia. 

“No.”

“Are you scared?”

“More tired than anything else,” you admit with a laugh.

“Well, my Harley has a sissy bar, so you’ll be okay.”

You don’t even know what a sissy bar is, but you follow Seungcheol out to his bike anyways. 

“Here, we can put your stuff in my saddlebag,” he explains, opening a large additional compartment near the back tire of his bike. “I don’t always ride with these, but for whatever reason, I thought it would be a good idea to have them on today.”

He helps you put your work bag in his bike, and then, he helps you with your helmet, his fingers delicately grazing your throat as he tightens the strap there.

“If anything is wrong, just tap my thigh,” he tells you, swinging a leg over his bike and starting the engine.

Even with layers of protection over your ears from the helmet, his Harley is loud. It purrs, like a lion, and you stand in a daze for a moment before he makes a motion for you to hop on. 

You’re careful of his injured shoulder as you slowly get on the bike, adjusting yourself on the seat. 

Seungcheol reaches for your hand, settling it on his hip. He opens his visor. “Ready?”

You nod.

He nods back, and the bike roars to life. He pulls out of the parking spot, and you hold on tighter, thankful for the additional padding of a safety bar behind your back- is this the sissy bar he was talking about? 

You can’t dwell on motorcycle terms as Seungcheol gets onto the street, the bike moving even faster. The feeling of summer air is hot but pleasant on your skin as you ride between cars. You get the sneaking suspicion that Seungcheol is holding back on his driving-

You could imagine him weaving between vehicles and being a general menace on his bike, but with you on the back, he’s trying his best to be a gentleman.

You’re shocked at the trust you already have in this man. A man who a little over twelve hours ago, was a stranger.

You’ve never considered yourself an adrenaline junkie, but on the back of Seungcheol’s bike, everything else slips away.

You’re at your home before you know it, and you almost feel sad when Seungcheol pulls up to the curb. He motions for you to get off, and he joins you on the sidewalk a moment later, quickly helping you with your helmet.

“How was it?” he asks.

“That was super fun,” you tell him, beaming.

Seungcheol grins when he sees the expression on your face. “Glad you enjoyed it.”

“Listen, keep the helmet for now,” Seungcheol says. “I have your number and I know where you live, so I’ll come back for it.”

You feel your expression drop, and Seungcheol cocks his head to the side, concern written on his face.

“You good?”

“I just-” you swallow thickly. “Sorry, my uh- my ex used to say that to me. That he knew where I lived when I broke up with him. It felt like a threat, and it’s one of the reasons I had to move a couple of months ago.”

Seungcheol is quiet for a moment. “Fuck that guy.”

You nod. “Fuck that guy.”

Five:

You’ve had Seungcheol stuck in your head. After he’d dropped you off, it had been hard to sleep, your mind preoccupied with his answer about his tattoo. When you’d finally woken up hours later, you hadn’t been able to help yourself, you’d pulled out your tarot deck.

“Spirit,” you’d breathed. “I think I may have met him. The Elk. And even though you’ve given me the sign with his tattoo, I feel like I need more confirmation. I’m going to shuffle, and if this is meant for me, can you please give me a love card?”

There are numerous cards within the deck that talk about relationships, partnerships and new beginnings, and you’re hoping that one pops out.

You begin to shuffle, closing your eyes and taking it easy.

It’s about a minute before a card pops out. It’s upside down on your coffee table. 

You take a deep breath, slowly reaching out to flip the card.

The Two of Cups stares up at you, and you don’t even have to open your tarot guide book to know what that means. It’s a card of unity, of partnership. Other than the Lovers, it’s one of the most clear relationship cards you can get. 

You stare at it for a long while. The Elk may have been a coincidence. The fact that his own late grandmother had been a tarot reader may have been a coincidence. But pulling the Two of Cups, out of any other card, when seaking confirmation- this feels like fate. 

Part of you wants to be extra sure and ask for the lovers card, but you also think this might be a good time to trust your spirit team. They’ve guided you twice now, and maybe you have to look inward.

Why are you so cautious that Seungcheol might be the one?

Are you ready for a new relationship?

You’d thought you were ready- and here you are, meeting a man who fits your type-

Maybe it’s the fact that he is your type that you’re worried. What if he turns out to be a dickhead like the last ones? You’re still holding onto a lot of fear. You want to protect yourself, which you validate as a legitimate concern.

But… are you going to spend the rest of your life frightened?

Or are you going to try to let go of those fears and learn to trust again, even if it ends up biting you in the ass?

The possible risk is heartbreak, but the possible reward is endless happiness.

Fate can only do so much, this is the part where your own actions will dictate the future.

Six:

“So, how’s that dude with the tattoos doing?” Joshua asks, taking a seat next to you in the nursing station when things have finally calmed down.

“Cheol? I uh… haven’t talked to him since he dropped me off at my place two days ago.”

“Is that good or bad?” 

You shrug. “I’m not sure. We’re both busy people. I work here, and he owns a tattoo shop.”

“I guess that’s true,” Joshua nods. “Maybe you should call him and see how he’s doing?”

You quirk a brow at your friend. “What’s your angle here?”

Now it’s Joshua’s turn to shrug his shoulders. “No angle. I think, as your friend, sometimes it’s important to give you a little push. After all, your tarot said he’s your soulmate.”

Joshua’s one of your only coworkers who you’ve felt comfortable opening up to. He knows about all your spiritual inklings, and you’d filled him in on your whole Elk, Leo, Two of Cups fiasco yesterday. 

“Fine, I’ll give him a quick call,” you sigh. “Strictly as a nurse who wants to see how the wound is doing.”

“Keep telling yourself that,” Joshua grins.

You roll your eyes at him, fishing your phone out of your pocket.

Seungcheol answers on the second ring. “Hey.”

“Hi, how are you doing?” you ask, putting him on speaker phone. Joshua might be encouraging you to do this as a friend, but you know better than anyone that he also loves some good tea.

“Doing okay.”

“And your shoulder?”

“Good as far as I know… why? You worried about me?” You can hear the grin in his voice, the fact that he’s loving the concern you have for him. “I’ve had worse, you know.”

“I’d just hate for it to get infected,” you sigh.

“Look, if you want to do your due diligence as a nurse and everything, how about you get drinks with me and assess it yourself?” he suggests.

Joshua grabs your thigh, eyes widening, waiting on what you’ll say next.

“We could do that,” you respond.

“Sounds good, when are you free?”

“I’m off tomorrow.”

“How do you feel about eight o’clock?” 

“That works,” you nod.

“I’ll pick you up at eight then, and bring your helmet.”

You find yourself smiling. “Will do.”

“It’s a date. See you then.”

“Bye, Cheol.”

Your heart is racing as you hang up the phone, and Joshua immediately repeats Seungcheol’s words, “It’s a date.” 

“It’s a date,” you respond, jittery at the idea.

“Some guys are assholes and say ‘let’s hang out,’ but this one says ‘it’s a date.’”

“That’s a good sign,” you insist.

“A very good sign,” Joshua agrees. “If this dude ends up being the one, I might just have to get into tarot.”

Seven:

You’re surprised to find yourself playing nighttime mini golf with Seungcheol on your date. “What happened to drinks?” you ask as he pays for your tickets and grabs your clubs from the attendant.

He shrugs. “Figured you’re a nurse so you might not wanna get on my motorcycle after I had a few drinks, also the fact that you were designated driver last time I saw you at a bar- I thought this might be more your style. But, I’ll warn you, I’m not going to go easy on ya.”

You laugh, pleasantly surprised at how astute this man can be. “I think this will be fun.”

“Me too.”

Seungcheol’s wearing black jeans and a charcoal v-neck that shows off his strong shoulders. He’s the epitome of your type: a bad boy with tattoos. Yet, when you begin to play, he’s shockingly patient.

“Let me show you how to hold the club,” he suggests on the second hole, waiting for you to nod before he steps behind you and wraps his body around your own. “Feet positioning is key.” He also gently adjusts your hands, and your heart leaps in your chest when he breathes against your throat. “It might take some time to get used to,” Seungcheol warns, “so don’t beat yourself up if it doesn’t come naturally.”

You hit the golf ball, and it goes a lot closer to the hole than your first shot had.

“Did it take a while for you to get into mini golf?” you ask.

“Nah, I was always a natural,” he teases, flashing you a wink before he takes his own shot.

You admire the way his shoulders look with his back to you. “So what got you into being a tattoo artist? Into having your own place?” 

“Well, my grandma passed, and she left me a pretty big inheritance. She always thought I could succeed as a tattoo artist, but before that I was stuck doing blue collar type shit. I think, the money was her final way of telling me to follow my dreams. I’m kind of obsessed with ink, if you haven’t noticed.” He holds out his arms, which are littered with patchwork. “How about you? How does someone get into being an emergency room nurse?”

“I just like helping people,” you explain. “When I was a kid, I broke my arm falling off the monkey bars. I’d always been scared of hospitals, but the nurse who helped me in emergency was an angel. She made it less scary, and when it was over, I realized I wanted to be just like her. When people come into the emergency room, it’s never fun. It’s frightening, and cold- and I want to be there for people who are going through that, to be a warm, friendly face.”

“My grandma had a light worker's soul too,” Seungcheol nods. “That’s what she always called it anyways. She wasn’t ever officially trained, but in her later years she got into herbal medicine. Anytime I was sick it was lemon and garlic chicken noodle soup with bone broths and the works- always made me feel a lot better.”

“She sounds like she was an amazing woman.”

“She was,” Seungcheol agrees. “I don’t know you that well yet, but I think she would have liked you.”

You grin. “Is that an important trait you look for when taking girls to mini golf?” 

Seungcheol lets out a laugh. “It should be. My last ex wouldn’t have fit the bill, and at the time, I thought that was okay, but it didn’t end well.”

“Do you wanna talk about it?”

“I’ll talk about mine if you talk about yours,” he suggests. “You said your last boyfriend was a creep when you broke up, threatened to come to your place and shit, he sounds like a piece of work.”

“He was,” you sigh. “I’ve got this thing for big tattooed men, bad boy types. It always leads to me getting my heart broken. He would tell me I was the one and everything, but I found out he was cheating on me with some waitress at the bar he used to go to all the time.”

“So what I’m hearing is… I’m your type.” Seungcheol flashes you a wink and you roll your eyes at him. “I’m just fucking with you. I’m sorry to hear that. Cheaters are the fucking worst.”

“Sounds like you’ve experienced something like that too.” 

“Looks like both of our ex’s were cheating fucks,” Seungcheol says. “I know it’s a red flag to talk shit about your ex or whatever, but some ex’s deserved to be talked bad about.”

You nod. “A hundred percent.”

“Did you think you were going to be with your last one forever?” Seungcheol asks after a moment.

“I thought so.”

“Me too with mine, I was just about ready to get her a ring.” He frowns, looking down at his golf ball. With a sigh, he easily knocks it into the hole. “Well, this is just the way life happens I guess.”

It’s clear you both have very similar wounds. You’re shocked at how easy it is to talk about this with Seungcheol. Some people say not to talk about ex’s on dates with new people, but this almost feels therapeutic. You understand Seungcheol better, and you’re sure he understands you too.

It’s promising to know he thinks about the future, that he’s ready to settle down, not all men are.

Maybe you’re both in the same boat with all of this, and that’s a hopeful thought.

Eight: 

Seungcheol can’t seem to get you out of his head. 

He’d never thought of himself as a particularly superstitious man. His grandma had been spiritual, and he’d always loved that aspect of her. He’d enjoyed doing tarot readings and making all sorts of elixirs with her in the garden. She’d told him he’d be a successful tattoo artist, she’d seen it in the stars, and while she’d been a big part of making that premonition come true, he wonders what else she might be right about.

Seungcheol’s grandma had always told him he’d end up with a healer like her. A doctor, a psychiatrist, a nurse- she wasn’t very specific, but she’d said his soul would call in a light worker when the time was right.

He feels drawn to you, his little emergency room nurse, designated driver, light worker. 

It’s been such a short amount of time, but there’s something unexplainable about the way he feels.

“You look distracted,” Mingyu muses, coming to join Seungcheol outside the tattoo parlour where he’s puffing on his vape.

“Just thinking.”

“About your birthday party tonight, or that girl you brought through the other day?” Mingyu presses, grinning as he bumps his shoulder against Seungcheol’s. 

Seungcheol can’t help but sigh at his friend’s prying ways. 

“Look you don’t have to tell me anything, but summer is almost over and you need a backpack. My angel has been surrounded by testosterone motorcycle rides for months, and we’d all love another girl to be part of the group. You should invite her out tonight.”

Of course Mingyu’s coming at this from an angle of having a girlfriend. He and Wonwoo are obsessed with their ‘little angel,’ and Mingyu’s always talking about the joys of being in a relationship. It can get somewhat tedious for Seungcheol.

“Don’t you have a client soon?” Seungcheol sighs.

“Point taken, I’ll leave you be,” Mingyu says, patting him on the shoulder. 

As soon as his friend is inside, Seungcheol pulls out his phone. He thinks about what he’s going to say to you, before typing out an easy, “Up to anything tonight?”

He’s shocked by how quick your response is. “It’s Sunmi’s birthday this week so we’re celebrating tonight since it’s Saturday.”

Seungcheol’s mood drops, and a moment later, you’re calling him.

“Hi,” he says.

“Hi,” you respond. “How are you doing?”

“Not so bad.” He wants to tell you that it’s his birthday tonight, wants to try to convince you to come, but at the same time, he doesn’t want to guilt you, doesn’t want to mess up your plans. “What’s up?”

“I just… I know we’ve only gone on one actual date, and I only met you a week ago, but… I just want you to know, when I go out tonight, I’m not going to be hitting on anyone or anything.”

He’s taken aback for a moment. “I wasn’t really worried about that.”

“Okay! Good! I just- I know with your ex and everything- and I just, I figured I’d clarify, even though we’ve only been on one date, I’m a one guy at a time kind of girl.”

He respects that you’re so direct about this, and he appreciates your loyalty. You really are a good person. 

“I’m a one girl at a time kind of guy,” Seungcheol says finally. “Glad we’re on the same page about that.”

“Me too.” He can hear your smile, and it makes his heart swell. 

“Anyways, I’ll let you go. Have fun tonight.”

“I will, bye, Cheol.”

Nine:

You’re having a great night. The drinks have been flowing, and you’re having a fun time celebrating Sunmi’s birthday. Things are fuzzy in the best way- until you hear a familiar voice say your name.

You turn to find your ex standing close to you at the bar, and your heart sinks in your chest.

“It’s been a while,” your ex states.

You can’t even find the words to speak, suddenly getting drunk seems like a horrible idea.

You’ve just started to feel safe again, to feel stable- you’d thought being out with your friends, you could let loose, but now your ex is here and your heart is beginning to race.

“Have you been drinking?” your ex asks, coming to stand closer to you at the bar top, where you’d been sipping a gin and tonic. 

“I, uh-” your words catch in your throat, and you swallow thickly. “It’s Sunmin’s birthday.”

Your ex nods, and when you look toward your table, you see Sunmin gaping at you.

Turning away from Sunmi, your ex addresses you. “Is she still a huge bitch?”

“I-” you want to defend your friend, but you feel frozen. You can’t think- you’re completely overwhelmed, and you can hear the blood rushing in your ears, your heart like thunder in your chest.

“We need to talk,” your ex says next. “Come outside with me.”

He grabs your arm, and then a hand wraps around yours. You turn to see Sunmi standing there, glaring at your ex. “What do you think you’re doing?!” she asks.

“Y/N and I need to have a chat outside,” your ex sighs, being very dismissive.

“She doesn’t have to go anywhere with you,” Sunmi insists. “Honey, do you want to go with him?”

You quickly shake your head, moving closer to your friend for safety.

“She doesn’t know what she wants,” your ex rolls his eyes, tightening his grip on your arm to the point where it almost hurts.

“We’re going to the bathroom,” Sunmi insists, somehow successfully tugging you away from your ex. 

“Run away, but I’ll be right here to talk to her when you’re done.”

It feels like a blur as Sunmi races you to the woman’s washroom. “Y/N,” she helps you to the sink, looking at your face. “Are you okay?”

“I-”

Sunmi pulls you to her chest, hugging you deeply. “We’re going to sort this out,” she promises.

“How?” You feel like crying. All the emotions come flooding back, the fear, the helplessness-

“We’re going to call Seungcheol.”

“What?” You’re in shock. “We can’t do that!”

“We can, and we will. Men like your ex only respond to other men. We’re calling him. Give me your phone.”

Reluctantly, you hand Sunmi your cell, turning on the sink to splash your arms with cold water.

“Hi, Seungcheol?” There’s a pause. “No, this is Sunmi. I’m out with y/n, we’re at a bar on Elm and fifth street, her ex just showed up- okay, okay, yeah, we’re in the bathroom in the back.”

She hangs up and you look to her for an explanation.

Your friend lets out a sigh. “As soon as I said your ex was here, Seungcheol said to give him five minutes. I’m going to keep you here and he’ll come get us, okay?”

You nod. “I’m sorry to ruin your birthday.”

“Honey, you’re not ruining anything,” she assures you, pulling you in for another hug. 

You hold back tears while you wait with Sunmi, and in no time at all, there’s a knock on the bathroom door. Seungcheol pokes his head in, and you see his expression drop when he sees you.

“What happened?” he growls, coming to join you.

“Her ex was trying to drag her outside-” Sunmi tries to explain.

“He touched you?” Seungcheol asks, anger laced in his words.

You nod, pointing to your forearm. 

“Grabbed is more like it,” Sunmi breathes.

“Okay,” Seungcheol nods. “Okay, I’ll get you out of here. Just hold onto me and we’ll get out of here.”

You nod again, allowing Seungcheol to gently take your hand. He guides you out of the bathroom, and you huddle close to his side as he walks you through the bar- you almost think things will go smoothly when your ex steps in front of you.

“Who’s this, you’re new boyfriend?” he asks, venom dripping from his words.

Seungcheol stops in his tracks. “So you must be the dip shit ex.”

“Say that again, asshole,” your ex growls, eyes narrowing.

“You must be-” Seungcheol broadens his shoulders, “the dip shit ex.”

Your ex releases a laugh, and then he’s taking a swing. It feels slow and fast at the same time, Sunmi tears you away from Seungcheol, who dodges the punch easily, only to land a blow to your ex’s stomach-

“Y/N! Sunmi!” Mingyu’s voice appears out of nowhere, and suddenly two strong arms are wrapping around you and your friend. “Outside!”

Mingyu keeps you close as he gets you and Sunmi out of the bar while a commotion ensues in your wake. Four motorcycles are pulled up on the curb. You recognize Vernon, and there’s another man you’ve never seen before.

“Cheol’s starting shit,” Mingyu tells his friends quickly.

“We heard your ex was here?” Vernon offers, giving you a sympathetic look.

“He threw a swing at Cheol when I got inside,” Mingyu tries to explain. “Y/N, we’re going to get you out of here, Wonwoo pass me the spare helmet from the saddlebag.”

“What about Seungcheol?” you ask, watching the men fuss.

“He can take care of himself,” Mingyu assures you, helping you put on the helmet.

“Cheol will meet us at our place,” the new man, Wonwoo, says. “When he gets hot like this, he doesn’t drive very safely.”

“Trust us,” Mingyu pleads. “We just gotta get you out of here, your ex made the first swing, and nothing good can come from this now.”

You turn to Sunmi and she squeezes your hand. “It’s okay, get out of here. I’ll text you what happens.”

You can’t even think as Mingyu gets onto his bike and you awkwardly take the seat behind him. You can’t comprehend how things happened the way they did- how fast the altercation had been before your ex had taken a go at Seungcheol.

As you leave the bar, heart thundering in your chest, it’s the most you can do to try to slow your breathing, your body still carrying the trauma that you’d endured with your ex, the wound you’d thought was healed now torn open.

Ten:

“Are you sure this is okay?” you ask as Mingyu covers you with a large fluffy blanket on his couch. “I mean- you just said your girlfriend is four months pregnant and sleeping in the other room-”

“It’s fine,” Mingyu assures you.

“I’m sorry if I ruined your night.” You’d found your ability to speak again once you felt safe and in Mingyu’s apartment, and now, you can’t help the anxiety bubbling inside of you. You feel like a burden- and it’s an all too familiar feeling from your time with your ex.

“You didn’t ruin it, we were almost done anyways,” Wonwoo notes. 

“Are you sure?” 

“Y/N, deep breaths,” Mingyu tells you, sitting on the couch next to you, offering your calf a reassuring squeeze.

“Is Cheol going to be okay?” you ask.

“He’s going to be fine, that man has never lost a fight,” Mingyu explains, smiling softly.

In the distance, you hear an engine revving, and Wonwoo sighs. “There he is.”

Not even five minutes later, Seungcheol is practically bursting through the door. His eyes find you on the couch, and you’re quick to stand, allowing him to envelop you in a hug. His heart is racing in his chest, he’s clearly panicked, and when he pulls away, he looks down at you with wide eyes.

“Are you okay?” he questions, cupping your face as if checking you for injury.

“I’m okay, are you okay?” you retort.

“Just a few bruised knuckles,” he assures you. 

You find yourself laughing, and as you laugh, your eyes well up with tears. Now that he’s here, you finally feel like you can take a deep breath, and he’s quick to tug you back to his chest as you cry.

“I’m going to give you a moment, then I’m going to take you home,” he tells you, hand smoothing up and down your back.

You stay in his arms until you feel a bit better, and when you pull away, Mingyu is offering you a tissue. You clean yourself up, say your goodbyes, then Seungcheol walks you out with the spare helmet in hand.

He doesn’t say anything on the way down, but at the bike, he hands you his fullface. “Want you protected,” he tells you, grabbing the bucket helmet from your grasp.

You nod, putting on the helmet and allowing him to help you fasten it up. 

You’re quiet as you both get onto the bike, and Seungcheol adjusts your hand to his hip, squeezing gently. 

The bike roars to life and you take off.

It’s a different feeling to be on a motorcycle while still a little drunk, and you find yourself throwing your head back to look up at the night sky. 

You’ve seen the stars before, but on the back of Seungcheol’s bike, it feels like you're experiencing them for the first time. 

You lose track of time doing this, and the ride is done sooner than you’d like when he pulls up to your building. “Come on, baby,” he says softly, helping you take off your helmet. “Let’s get you upstairs.”

He holds your hand, helping you with your keys to get into the apartment complex. The elevator ride is quiet, but his hand is a reassuring constant, warm and large wrapped around your own.

He’s never been to your place, and you feel a little self conscious as you open up your door. It’s a modest apartment, one bedroom- there’s really nothing to be insecure about, but you think maybe your anxiety from the bar incident is just making you a little crazy.

“How about you sit down, and I’ll get you some water?” he suggests, helping you to the couch.

You kick off your high heels, curling up on the cushions while Seungcheol putters around your kitchen. He already looks like he belongs here, and for a brief moment, you can forget about your ex.

Seungcheol rejoins you on the couch, handing you the cup. “Here.” 

“Thank you.”

You sip on your water, trying to breathe properly again.

Seungcheol gives you the space to unwind. He doesn’t pester you with questions about the altercation with your ex at the bar, and you’re grateful for it.

“You’re not hurt, are you?” he asks finally.

You shake your head, your eyes dropping to his hands. “You’re hurt though.”

“Just bruised knuckles,” he assures you. 

“There’s blood,” you insist. “I’ll-”

“Tell me where your first aid kit is and I’ll grab it.” 

You direct him to the cupboard in your bathroom, and he returns with it, setting the case onto your coffee table. 

“How’s your shoulder?” you ask as you take out the tools you’ll need.

“Almost better, I heal fast,” he says softly.

It feels good to focus on his wounds rather than your own, and you gently clean the scrapes on his hand. His right fist is pretty badly bruised, and you do your best to treat it. Then you begin to slowly wrap his knuckles, taking your time. Two wraps around his wrist, diagonal across the top to his pinky, under the hand, to the pointer, diagonal- 

It’s a nice repetition of motions, and when you’re all done, you lift his hand to your lips, gently pressing a kiss to his knuckles. “All better.”

You look up at Seungcheol, and he stares back.

Then, he slowly moves in, carefully watching your expression. He stops just an inch from your lips, and you can feel his breath on your face. He’s waiting for you to make the final move, for you to be the one with control.

With one last look at your beautiful, dark protector, you close the distance.

It’s a soft kiss, not the kind of first kiss you’ve ever had before. Seungcheol doesn’t immediately try to dominate you like men in the past have, he lets you set the pace. You lean in closer, grabbing his shoulders to stabilize yourself as you deepen the kiss. 

Seungcheol’s arms wrap around you, and it’s a somewhat awkward position on the couch like this, so he simply pulls you onto his lap. 

You lose yourself in the kiss, allowing all your anxiety to dissipate while you enjoy the safety Seungcheol provides. 

After a while, Seungcheol pulls away, and you’re both breathing heavily. 

“How… how do your knuckles feel?” you ask.

He laughs, looking down at his hands. “I might black out my fingers when this is all healed,” he admits. “I get into too many barfights. My grandma used to say it was the Leo in me.”

“The Leo in you?” you repeat, heard thumping wildly in your chest.

“Yeah, I uh…” he lets out a soft chuckle, “I didn’t wanna pressure you to come out or anything after I heard you were at a friend’s birthday party, but it’s sort of my birthday today.”

You’re frozen for a moment. “Happy birthday.”

“Thanks.”

“You’re a Leo,” you say again.

“Uh huh. You’re not about to tell me some weird zodiac rule about our signs not being compatible, are you?”

“No, it’s not that.” You take a deep breath. Just a short time ago, you’d decided not to tell him about the Elk tattoo meaning, and now here you are, about to tell him everything. 

You’re not sure if it’s the adrenaline from the bar situation, or the slight tipsyness, but you think fuck it, if he could tell you about his tarot loving grandmother, you can tell him about this.

“A few months ago, I did a reading,” you begin to explain.

“A tarot reading,” he clarifies.

“Yeah. And I asked my guides to show me a spirit animal card that would be a tattoo on the person I’m supposed to be with. The card came up as an Elk- and before you tell me it’s a very common tattoo, I know it is, which is why I asked for further clarification with them telling me the zodiac of this person too-”

“And they said Leo,” he breathes.

You nod. “Then, when I met you, the Elk lined up, but I still wasn’t sure, so I did another reading on us, and the Two of Cups came out, it’s a love card. So with those two cards, and now the fact that you’re a Leo-”

“Is this your way of telling me you think I’m your soulmate?” Seungcheol grins.

“God, I should have guessed you’re a fucking Leo,” you roll your eyes.

“Don’t be rude,” he tuts, gently pinching your hip. “If it’s any consolation, my grandmother always told me I’d end up with someone in the medical field, and you’re an ER nurse.”

“She really said that?” you ask.

“Uh huh.” Seungcheol’s gaze dips to your lips then back up again. “I wonder if she saw this future.”

Your heart melts. After your last relationship, where the lovebombing came on fast, you’d promised yourself not to get burned by that sort of thing again- but here you are, falling for Seungcheol way quicker than you ever have with anyone else in the past.

Even so, something about this feels so right.

You let out a breath. “One time with the Elk may have been coincidence. Two times with the Two of Cups card was a little odd. But three times with your Leo Zodiac-”

“I guess the question is, do you believe in fate?” Seungcheol moves closer.

“I think you know that I do,” you laugh.

Seungcheol’s hands squeeze your hips, and he doesn’t say anything else as he brings his mouth to yours.

You kiss him eagerly, wrapping your arms around him, pressing your chests together. His tongue glides against your own and it feels like magic- there’s a bulge growing in his pants, and you can’t help but begin to grind down against him.

Seungcheol releases a small groan and it’s music to your ears, prompting you to apply more pressure to his cock when you wriggle against him.

With a sigh, Seungcheol pulls away. “Baby,” he says softly, “you’ve been drinking and I don’t want to take advantage tonight-”

“I swear that whole situation with my ex sobered me up,” you admit. “Besides, maybe I want to give you a birthday present.” 

“A birthday present?” he repeats with a chuckle.

You nod. “Cheol, I haven’t even kissed anyone in months- I’m already practically drenched from making out, you won’t make me wait even longer, will you?”

He studies your face, and you can see the moment he folds. “We can do this, but at any point if I think you look drunk, we have to stop. I don’t want you to regret this being our first time.”

“I could never regret this,” you promise, leaning in to press your lips to his throat.

Seungcheol throws his head back, his fingers digging into your hips again. The low moan he releases tells you that he has a sensitive neck, and you enjoy simply teasing him for a minute while you mentally prep yourself for what’s to come next.

You do want to move on, and this is one of those steps.

You’re not afraid of it. You had been frightened about intimacy with someone new, but Seungcheol makes you feel more safe than you’ve ever felt in your life.

You want this. 

You shift a little on Seungcheol’s lap, reaching down to cup his cock with your palm. 

Seungcheol swallows thickly, his hands smoothing up and down your hips. “Are you sure?” he asks. “You don’t want me to take care of you?”

“It’s your birthday,” you point out. “And you took care of me at the bar, I think it’s my turn to show some appreciation.”

He doesn’t argue with you, and you can feel the tension leaving his shoulders. He lets out a deep breath. “I know it’s early,” he says, “but… if we do this, I don’t want any confusion. I want you to know that you’re mine, and I’m yours.”

“Honestly? I’ve been yours since practically the moment I saw you take your shirt off so I could clean your shoulder wound.”

Seungcheol releases a chuckle. “Really?”

“Uh huh, you make me fucking feral.”

He lets out a groan of appreciation. “It’s been hard to control myself too. That day at the studio, when you touched my back tattoo- I was so close to breaking. Wanted to throw you onto my desk and make you feel good.”

You imagine what that would have been like, and it makes you moan. “Why didn’t you?”

“I could tell you had a past, and I didn’t want to scare you off,” he admits. “I’ve been… trying to be a good boy.”

Your bad boy trying to be good to make you comfortable. You really hit the jackpot with Seungcheol.

“Cheol, I’ve told you I have a thing for bad boys,” you tease.

“So maybe I should take control right now,” he suggests with a grin.

“Let me suck you off, and then you can take control,” you tell him, pulling away. “I’m going to get on my knees now.”

Seungcheol watches you slip onto the floor infront of him, and your hands find his belt. You try to focus on your task of getting his pants off, but you enjoy sneaking glances at him, seeing his pretty face as he tries to keep composure.

He lifts his hips to help you tug his jeans down, and his cock slaps up against his lower abdomen, hard and already leaking.

He’s a decent size, somewhere between six and seven inches, and his cock is as girthy as the rest of him. You lick your lips, grabbing the base so you can adjust him toward your mouth as you lean in.

“No teasing,” Seungcheol warns, voice softening when he says, “please.” 

“Wouldn’t dream of it.”

“Liar,” he laughs, reaching out to stroke your head.

You slip the tip of his cock into your mouth, swirling your tongue. 

“And that’s the teasing I was talking about,” Seungcheol muses. “Feels good though.”

You sink further down onto him, beginning to suck as you move up and down.

“Fuck, that feels even better,” he groans.

When you were with your ex, blow jobs were an expectation, and because of that, you never really enjoyed them. There’s something powerful about doing this of your own volition, about making the conscious choice to pleasure Seungcheol.

You close your eyes, getting lost in the motion of providing this for him. Hallowing your cheeks, you suck hard when you’re near the tip, and Seungcheol groans loudly, shifting further down on the couch so you’re not bent over him in such an awkward position.

“You’re good at that, baby,” Seungcheol says. “But there’s only one birthday present I’d enjoy more than this.”

You let out a “hmm?” sound, an inquiry.

“When I’m balls deep in your pussy, watching you writhe under me, listening to your pretty sounds- that will be the cherry on top of this birthday,” he explains. “Thank you for wanting to make me feel good, but- usually, baby, I like to be the giver.”

Your pussy throbs at his words, and you increase your speed on his cock, letting out a moan of appreciation. 

“Yeah? You like that?” he asks. “Say the word, baby, and I’ll make it happen.”

You pull off of him, your hand smoothing up from base to tip to pump him while you address your beautiful dark protector. “I just want to make you feel good a little while longer.”

His expression softens. “Making me feel really good.”

You grin, returning to your task. 

Seungcheol’s hand is gentle in your hair. He caresses you while you suck him off, never applying pressure or trying to get you to deep throat him. It’s an ever constant, soft touch, and you’re shocked at how much of a gentleman this heavily tattooed, bar fighting, Leo can be. 

“Baby?” His voice draws you from your thoughts. “I know I said you could say the word and be done, but- this feels too good, and I don’t wanna bust the moment I begin to fuck you.”

You pull off of his cock with a pop, smiling up at him. “Okay.”

“Okay?” He lets out a shaky breath and grins. “Where’s your bedroom, gorgeous?”

“Right there.” You point at the door adjacent to the living room.

“Come on, baby, it’s my turn to take care of you.” He helps you to your feet, pulling his pants back up, and you’re shocked when he throws you over his uninjured shoulder, carrying you to your bedroom while you erupt in a fit of butterfly fueled giggles.

Seungcheol lays you softly onto your bed, staring down at you. He takes in your silky shirt and your dress pants, you like to be more classy when you go out, to keep up with your reputation as a nurse.

The two of you are very different people. He’s black ripped jeans, plain tshirts and tattoos. And you’re classy outfits, scrubs, and a healer’s touch. Somehow, even with these differences, the two of you work. Like Yin and Yang, complementary forces, light and dark.

“Can I take these off for you?” he asks, tugging at your pant leg.

You nod, watching the way he begins to undo your button and zipper. He’s slow with his motions, precise. It’s not a rush to get you naked, it’s an enjoyed exploration, and you love the way his eyes glow when you lift your hips to allow him to pull the fabric off your lower half.

“You’re so pretty,” Seungcheol muses.

“Yeah?”

“That day you were in my shop with your friend, doing a consult with Vernon- I was trying to act like I was watching my newest apprentice work, but… I kept looking at you. And then, outside the bar, when you showed up again-” Seungcheol shakes his head, his hand smoothing along your leg gently. “Baby, you’re going to turn me into a believer.”

“Invisible string theory, perhaps,” you grin.

Seungcheol chuckles. “If that’s what you want to call it.”

He takes off his own shirt, and you watch the way his muscles move under his skin. He’s littered in tattoos, patchwork on his arms and chest. There must be a hundred small to medium sized tattoos, and you want to know the story behind each and every one.

But there’s a time and a place for that, and right now, you’re eager for something else.

Seungcheol gets on top of you, and you immediately thread your fingers through his soft dark hair, pulling his lips to your own.

Your free hand explores his muscular shoulders, careful of the bandage still on his bar wound, and you’re practically tingling with how attracted you are to this man.

He kisses you deeply, cupping your face while his other hand braces him to the bed over top of you.

Your legs wrap around his hips, pulling him closer, and he grinds against your panty clad core.

The pressure on your clit has you moaning, and Seungcheol responds by kissing down your throat. He licks at your collarbone, and then his hand moves from your cheek to your shirt. “Can I take this off?” he asks.

“Uh huh, there’s a tie at the back.”

Seungcheol pulls off of you, and in one motion, he flips you onto your stomach. His warm hand smooths over your shoulder, toying with the tie there.

You hold your breath in anticipation as he begins to undo the corset style back of your slinky top. He leans over you, pressing a kiss to the nape of your neck that makes your body erupt in goosebumps. 

You enjoy the way he takes his time with your shirt, and he slowly helps you slip it off. You’re laying flat on his bed, your tits pressed to the comforter, while Seungcheol explores your back with his hands. He traces the curvature of your sides, pressing kisses along your spine. Soft curls tickle your skin, and you’re grinning like the Cheshire Cat at how good this feels.

Seungcheol flips you over again, and his gaze dips to your exposed breasts. “You’re so pretty,” he muses, gently groping your chest, his thumb grazing over your nipple. You watch him swallow thickly, and then he’s leaning over, taking the sensitive bud in his mouth while you tangle your fingers in his curls again.

With his mouth on your breast, his free hand slips down your body, and he tugs your panties down just enough for him to access your core.

Two digits rub between your pussy lips and you feel him smile against your nipple. “You weren’t lying about being wet, baby.”

“Would never lie to you,” you breathe out shakily.

“No?” He circles your clit and you moan loudly. 

“Never,” you repeat, pushing your hips up toward his hand, needing more friction.

Seungcheol rewards you by slipping both of his digits into your wet core, pressing his palm to your clit as he begins to finger fuck you. He sucks on your breast while he does this, and you’re lost in the sensations he provides.

“Fuck, Cheol-” you whimper when his teeth graze your nipple, your pussy clenching tight around his fingers.

“Wanna make you cum,” Seungcheol says, pulling away from your breast to look down at you.

“Then make me cum,” you respond, nodding at him.

Seungcheol presses one last kiss to your lips and then he shifts down the bed, pulling his fingers from your core. He gets onto his knees at the foot of the mattress, dragging you toward himself and pulling your panties off.

He spreads your thighs. “So pretty,” he muses. “Everything about you is so fucking pretty.”

Your skin heats, it can be hard to take a compliment, but something tells you that Seungcheol will get you used to this kind of praise.

He leans forward, eyes meeting yours as he presses a kiss to your clit. You jolt at the small contact, releasing a shaky breath.

No one has eaten you out in months, and your core is already throbbing with anticipation. 

“Gonna take care of you,” Seungcheol promises, and you know that this promise extends far past the sexual setting you’re in right now.

He moves forward again, capturing your clit in his mouth while his digits easily slip into your pussy again.

You throw your head back, enjoying the sensation of him worshiping your cunt. He’s gentle with his motions at first, kitten licking your sensitive bud. You know he’s getting used to your sounds, figuring out what pressure works, what you enjoy, whether thats sucking, or more gentle stimulus.

“Feels good,” you tell him. “Like the way you crook your fingers.”

He responds by applying more pressure to the ‘come hither’ motion he’s making, and you release a whine at how good it feels.

“Just like that,” you whimper.

He sucks your clit harder too, and you moan louder, hips bucking toward his face.

Seungcheol’s free hand finds your lower abdomen and he pins you to his bed, keeping you still while he works on your pussy.

You can feel your walls clenching around him, and Seungcheol releases a groan of pleasure. It adds to your own feeling of euphoria that clearly he’s enjoying this. He hadn’t been lying when he said he’s usually a giver, and the fact that he doesn’t see this as a chore has you able to enjoy it fully, unlike certain past experiences where men had to be begged into eating you out.

Sex with Seungcheol - even foreplay like this - feels so natural. You’re not as in your head as you usually are, with his nonverbal communications and moans, you can be certain he’s enjoying this as much as you are, and it gives you the confidence to give yourself over completely to the pleasure.

Sex should always be like this, you realize.

There’s no pressure, no worrisome thoughts, it’s just two souls connecting physically in a way that’s mutually beneficial. 

Having not been eaten out in a long time, it’s not surprising that you’re extremely sensitive, and Seungcheol works you all the way to the edge before you can even comprehend what’s happening.

“Cheol-” you whimper, threading your fingers in his hair, “I’m gonna-”

You don’t get to finish your sentence, he sucks harshly on your clit, and your words become moans as your orgasm surges through you.

His hand on your abdomen keeps you steady as he works you through your high, sucking on your clit until your legs are shaking on his broad shoulders.

Seungcheol pulls away, and you open your eyes to watch him wipe the back of his mouth, licking his fingers clean. 

“Still want this?” he asks, hooking his fingers in the waistband of his jeans.

“More than anything,” you smile.

A moment later, Seungcheol is as naked as you are, and he gets between your thighs again, lips returning to your own. He doesn’t immediately slip his cock into you, instead, he grinds against your core, teasing your sensitive clit and driving you wild.

You kiss him eagerly, threading your fingers through his hair and groping his muscular shoulders, enjoying the feeling of him despite the need growing inside of you.

You’re reminded again that there’s no rush.

You can take pleasure in this without feeling like you need to be getting fucked to be worth something.

You’re a hundred percent sure that if you’d told Seungcheol you’re not ready for sex, he would have stopped, cuddled you, and not taken it personally. There’s this feeling that Seungcheol is going to be around for a long time- and as crazy as it is with how short of a time you’ve known him, you know that your connection runs deeper than your physical attraction.

Seungcheol shifts slightly, grabbing at his cock. You bite at your lip while you wait for him to line it up with your core, and you break your kiss, panting. Your eyes meet as he slips the head of his length into your wet hole, and you both groan at the feeling.

“Fuck,” Seungcheol moans, sinking in inch by inch. “You feel so fucking good.” 

“You feel better,” you retort, kissing his cheek and nuzzling his nose.

“Impossible,” he grins, burying his face in your throat as he begins to fuck you.

You claw at his shoulders, crying out with each thrust. He fills you so well- he has probably one of the biggest cocks you’ve ever taken, and the way he stretches you out is like heaven, like he was made to be in your pussy.

The sounds he’s making are unlike any other pleasured noises you’ve ever heard.

Nothing has ever felt this right.

Seungcheol’s uninjured hand finds your own, and he laces your fingers, squeezing you reassuringly as he fucks you harder, his speed increasing.

His lips are hot on your neck, and it feels delightful. You love just laying back and taking everything he’s giving you. He’s so big, like a warm, weighted blanket covering your form.

Your toes are already curling at how deep he’s hitting, and your thighs shake desperately around his hips.

“Cheol-”

“Yes, baby?” he asks.

“You just- fuck, this feels so good-”

“You deserve to feel good,” Seungcheol tells you. “You work so hard for others, I’m lucky I get to be the guy working for you.”

Your heart swells at his words. Past boyfriends’ haven't ever truly appreciated how hard it is to be an emergency room nurse. You spend your whole shift taking care of others, and that high pressure, intense mentality bleeds into your personal life. It's a sweet relief to be the one on the receiving end, to relax and know that you can fully give yourself up to the pleasure and desire you feel, without feeling obligated to return this favour with future sexual gratifications.

Seungcheol’s lips meet your own, and you get lost in him, moaning desperately as he works your pussy open.

His thrusts slow, and he stays completely still inside of you for a moment, then pulls away.

“Can you shift onto your side for me?” he asks. “One leg straight on the bed, the other thigh pulled closer to your chest.”

It’s a position you’ve never tried before, but you trust Seungcheol, and you’re quick to adjust. You lay half on your side, one leg stretched between his knees while you bring your other toward your breasts. 

Seungcheol’s warm hand finds your thigh, and he helps bend you, his free hand guiding his cock to your pussy again.

When he pushes in this time, it feels even deeper, and you let out a squeak at the stimulation.

“You like that?” he asks, hand moving from your thigh to your breast, where he gently pinches your nipple.

“So deep- I feel so full-” you whimper.

Seungcheol only grins, and he’s an absolute vision in this position. He’s practically on his knees, and his chest is all exposed and gorgeous. His tattoos are beautiful as he massages your breast with one hand, the other on your thigh, anchoring you while he fucks you.

You’re not sure if it’s the sideways angle or what, but he’s hitting a spot that has your toes curling tight, your pussy clenching.

“Fuck-” you moan.

“Shit, I should have asked this before-” Seungcheol says, voice shaky, “do I need to pull out or-”

“I’m on birth control,” you assure him. “You can cum inside.”

“Fuck,” Seungcheol groans, rutting into you even harder. 

“Kinda want you to fill me up,” you admit.

“You’re way too sexy, baby, holy shit-”

You can tell your words are doing a number on him, and it makes your core throb with pleasure.

“Can you rub your clit?” he asks. “Want you to cum with me. I hate cumming alone.”

“Yeah.” Your hand slips between your thighs awkwardly, and Seungcheol decreases his pace  to give you a chance to catch up to his pleasure.

His movements are slower now, more precise, his cock hitting that spot deep inside that has you crying out again.

“You look so good like this,” Seungcheol tells you. “My pretty little nurse.”

For some reason, his words just do something to you, and your core throbs even harder. “Cheol, I’m close-” you warn him,

“Tell me when you’re almost there and I’ll go fast again.”

You focus on the sight of him, on the tattoos and muscles, his strong features and the pretty dark curls. His small groans egg you on, and you’re at the edge in no time, giving him a nod. “Okay-”

He releases your breast, using both hands on your leg now to steady himself as he fucks you stupid, your whole body jolting with each motion. You let out a desperate whine, rubbing your clit even harder-

“Fuck, fuck-” Seungcheol groans. “Feels so fucking good- fuck, cum with me, baby, cum with me-”

You moan in response, your core clenching down desperately on his cock as your orgasm explodes through you. Your whole body shivers with endorphins, heart racing in your chest.

Seungcheol throws his head back, releasing an extremely sexy groan as he cums with you, fingers digging into your skin as he thrusts slowly and deeply, working you through your orgasms.

You rub your clit until you can’t take it anymore, tearing your hand away.

Seungcheol slumps forward, stilling completely, and you greedily grab at his shoulders. He collapses half on top of you, and you thread your fingers through his hair, panting hard.

His forehead rests against your own, and you both just try to catch your breath.

You’ve never felt connected to someone the way you feel connected to Seungcheol in this moment. It’s all consuming, and it makes you emotional as you come down from your high.

Seungcheol must notice your shaky breathing because he opens his eyes and looks at you. “You okay, baby?”

“I’m just-” you swallow thickly. “I don’t know-”

You can’t voice it, can’t voice the way you’re feeling. There are so many thoughts swirling around in your head, so many past traumas rearing their ugly faces and making you second guess yourself-

“I’m yours, and you’re mine,” Seungcheol breathes, pressing a kiss to your lips. “I’m not going anywhere.”

And just like that, he can clear all of your anxieties, as if he was able to read your mind and see your fears. 

You’ve always been drawn to bad boys, to men who you envision as some kind of dark protector- and now, you think you’ve finally found the right one. 

☀️ mlist + an. Thank you so much for reading! this fic is written in conjunction to my other story 'crossroads,' read more about Mingyu, Wonwoo, and their y/n here

🍭 support me by. sending a tip here or here - or become a patron to access monthly bonus content and extensions for fics like this one :) find the Patreon teaser below! 

🔮 preview. Seungcheol’s thrusts get faster, and he rests his forehead against your spine while he rails you into the blow up mattress at a campsite where anyone could walk by. His baby fever is at an all time high, and he’s fucking you like a man who means every word he’s saying.

cw/ tw.  Unprotected sex, sex in a campsite, exhibitionism, staying quiet during sex, pussy eating, fingering, large/muscled/tattooed Cheol, quickie, baby fever, dirty talk, breeding kink, praise, breast worship, etc…

👹 rating. 18+ explicit I wc. 2.6k I teaser wc. 180

🌙 starring. Choi Seungcheol x afab!Reader

 bonus

It’s been just under a year since you started dating Seungcheol, and through him, you’ve found a family. Many trivia nights, and bowling excursions have been spent with Seungcheol, his friends, Sunmi, her sister, and her sister’s boyfriend Jeonghan. Once you’d met everyone face to face, it had been much easier to track Sunmi’s convoluted explanation of her connection to the tattoo parlour, and it’s been a joy to become so close with so many wonderful people.

Sunmi’s sister’s boyfriend, Jeonghan, is cousins with Mingyu and Wonwoo’s girlfriend, who’d had a beautiful baby girl this past January, and now, it’s the baby’s first summer. You don’t mind the shift of hang outs to be more baby inclusive, and now, you find yourself at a campsite with the whole gang.

While everyone is quite enamored with the little baby girl, Haesoo, no one is more obsessed than your boyfriend Seungcheol. You always get to see him coddling her while out and about as a group, but in the past three days at this campsite, you’ve contracted a serious case of baby fever.

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[angrelysimpping]

Can I request a full thing with m!Whitney and m!Kylar actually working together because that ask just 👀👀👀

Hhhhhhh i know what this ask was referencing but I cannot for the life of me find the post. If I find it at some point, I'll add the link but until then, sorry! ><"

Contents: AMAB Whintey (he/him); AMAB Kylar (he/him); GN Reader (you/you, they/them); drugging; noncon; abduction; penetrative sex, reader receiving; oral sex, reader giving; multiple partners

Words: ~2.4K

"Fancy meeting you here, slut.”

You nearly drop your bag at Whitney’s voice. It was nearing six, birds chirping away, morning fog creeping across the ground, yet to get burned away. The bully didn’t really strike you as a morning person, one of the reasons you had decided to slip out of town before noon. In theory, you wouldn’t run into anyone you knew. 

Your theory was incorrect, apparently.

You try to collect yourself, plastering on a smile as you look at the bully. “Wh-Whitney! Didn’t think you were an early bird.” 

Mentally, you kick yourself for the stutter, but he doesn’t seem to catch it as he slings a strong arm around your shoulders, pulling you in close to his side.

“C’mon,” he grunts, not even bothering to wait for you to agree with him, starting to drag you along. "We've got somewhere to be."

Your heart sinks. "Somewhere" with Whitney probably meant you on your knees in some dark alley so Whitney could make a quick buck. You didn't have that kinda time. The bus you needed to catch out of town would leave, with or without you on it. You'd waited too long, made too many plans, to let that fall through now. 

You duck out from under Whitney's arm, holding onto your bag tightly as the bully swipes at you. 

“Sorry, but I have to-”

“Skip town. Yeah, yeah. We know already.”

You freeze, body going cold. Skip town? How did Whitney-?

His arm wraps back around your shoulders, tight around your neck, as he starts walking again. You’re too stunned to do much but walk with him. 

You hadn't told anyone. Not a single soul. It’d hurt keeping a secret like this to yourself, never sharing it with anyone. Not even Robin, whispering with them late into the night, knowing you had plans to leave. It had burned, behind your eyes and the back of your throat, as the other orphan clung to you and talked softly into the night about the future. A future where the two of you had taken the orphanage from Bailey, made things better.

A future you knew you’d never see, bus routes shining bright in your mind's eye as Robin talked of renovating the old orphanage. 

Hell, you hadn’t even said it out loud, afraid of somehow jinxing it. The closest you’d ever got to writing it down were scribbled equations, trying to work out how much you needed to make and how fast you could make it. A single slip of paper that you then shredded. 

Bailey may have done a shit job in raising you, but the paranoia they’d instilled in you had come in handy from time to time.

As Whitney starts to take you down an alley, you try to wiggle out of his hold. You don’t really succeed, the bully snarling as he shoves you into the cold alley wall. 

“Behave,” he growls, caging you against the wall with his arms, body pressing against yours. Eyes going wide, you shrink in on yourself. Whitney has done a lot of fucked up things to you, and you’ve never taken it laying down. You’d fight him off in the halls, throw shit back at him in class. Sure, you might have fooled around with him a few times, sucked him off in the bathroom or rode him in the park, but that was something else — your own self-destruction and giving into impulse.

This wasn’t that. No matter how Whitney hurt you, he never seemed so…serious. Not like now, expression dark and eyes intense. 

“You can do this easy way or the hard way,” the bully continues, “I really don’t care.”

When you don’t move, don’t try to push him away, he smiles, shoulders relaxing a bit. 

“Good slut,” he murmurs, and you hate how heat rushes to your face, pools in your gut. You hate this stupid fucking town, hate the person it’s made you into, a person who gets turned on by one of their biggest harassers praising them. 

You duck under Whitney’s arm, sprinting to the closest end of the alley.

You don’t make it far, Whitney’s arms around your middle and lifting you into the air. 

“Let go!” Your shout comes out as a hiss, air forced from your lungs as he squeezes you. Writing in his grip gets you nowhere, nails digging into his strong arms lost on the bully as he staggers back, taking you with him. 

“Fuck, he was right ‘bout you not coming quietly.”

Him? It only strikes you now Whitney’s earlier use of the term ‘We’, but you don’t get a chance to think about it. Whitney pins you face first to the alley wall, cheek pressing against the rough surface as you keep squirming, making him struggle to get something from his pocket.

The prick in your neck is almost unnoticeable, but the effects are near instantaneous, your world spinning around you as your body goes slack.

The last thing you see is Whitney pulling out his phone, swearing under his breath as he makes a call. 

-

Your head hurts. 

That's the only thing you can think about — the pain in your head. 

A steady, dull pounding. You can feel it in your teeth, in the back of your eyes. It feels a little like when you took stimulants to help focus on solving the maths competition except worse. At least then you could stumble to bed and curl up. Your limbs feel like lead, unable to move even a single finger no matter how hard you will it. Then there’s your mouth, unbearably dry. Almost like someone had stuffed it full of cotton. 

Some tiny part of you knows that you should worry, that you should panic over how you’re cold and in pain. That part of yourself is small, though, muted and made fuzzy  

"...can't just leave th-them like that!"

Is that Kylar? You try to open your eyes but struggle. Your eyelids feel so heavy. Maybe you should just go back to sleep. Then the pain would be gone, too. 

"Oh, what, you think they should just be able to do whatever? Walk right out the door?"

Whitney was here too? Strange. 

"W-what if they need to use the toilet."

"They can piss themself for all I care, serves 'em right."

"You can't-"

There's a thud and you try again to open your eyes. 

"Don't tell me what I can and can't do."

It takes what feels like a monumental effort, but you finally manage to open your eyes.

It takes even more of an effort not to close them immediately, the world fuzzy and spinning around you. Not the orphanage, you think dimly. Even with your mind muffled, you’d know the orphanage ceiling anywhere and you’re not there. 

“-won’t hurt them.” Kylar’s voice catches your attention, grounds you slightly, the world settling somewhat, if still too bright. Trying to turn your head makes the blood pound in your ears, but you manage it. 

Whitney. Whitney pressing Kylar against an unfamiliar basement wall, sneering, towering over the loner. Saying, snarling really, something, something you can’t hear to Kylar. Something that makes Kylar's expression darken.

The pounding in your ears lessens and you can make out the last of Whtiney’s words.”-not too bad, anyway. Would have left otherwise, jumped on the first bus outta town.”

Kylar’s eyes flick from Whiteny’s face to where you lay, eyes locking onto yours and making your stomach flip. His eyes are bright, hazy. You know that look, the same one that had taken over Kylar’s expression when he’d first declared you as his, pressing a knife to your classmate’s throat in the middle of English class. 

You try to speak but everything is muddled, whatever Whitney had drugged you with still lingering in your system. 

You blink but it must have been longer than just a moment. 

How else would Kylar get on top of you so fast? Nuzzling into your neck, the soft words that pour past Kylar’s lips tinged with a hard edge as he keeps mumbling for you never to leave him. 

Something warm and wet coats your thighs. His cum? You’re not sure. You’re not even sure where your clothes have gone. You’d been wearing them, hadn’t you? Now it’s just the soft fabric of a bed underneath you and the weight of Kylar on top of you. And…something else, something between your legs. 

Whitney. You know it’s Whitney’s doing, know the ache of his cock forcing you open over and over again. You can hear him, swearing under his breath as your body shakes with each of his thrusts, but you can’t see him, Kylar cupping your face so you can’t look away from him. 

Gasping as a calloused hand roughly strokes over your sex, the sound is quickly muffled as Kylar takes it as an invitation to press his mouth to yours, tongue sliding past your lips. It’s now you become aware of the hard cock pressing against your thigh, Kylar rutting against your naked body while Whitney fucks you. With a tiny, high-pitched whine into your mouth, Kylar cums, and something in you knows this is your fate now. Stuck as these two boys plaything.

The low moan of despair that leaves you is mistaken as lust, Kylar giggling as he comes down from his high. “Love you,” he mutters into your neck, arms wrapping around your middle. “Don’t leave me.”

“Us,” Whitney grunts, another harsh thrust making you gasp and shudder in Kylar’s arms. The loner’s eyes narrow, glaring at Whitney, but the bully doesn’t care. He grips your chin, pulling your face away from Kylar’s making you look him in the eyes for the first time since you saw him in that alley.

“You won’t leave. Remember your fucking place.”

There’s something in his eyes that scares you. A similar look to the one you’ve seen in Kylar’s before. You can’t really think about it as Whitney’s cock hits something deep inside you that makes pleasure wash over you, back arching as you moan.

Whitney smirks, “Told you they’d like it.”

It takes you a moment to realize he’s talking to Kylar, dots connecting only as the loner’s breathing hitches at your side. It’s with growing dread that you can feel Kylar’s cock twitching against your thigh, taking an interest again. 

You try to distance yourself, to put space between you and your body. Maybe this was all some kind of sick dream, a far too real feeling dream. You can almost do it, with drugs still lingering in your system. You can tune out Kylar’s mumbled words, Whitney’s sneered comments. You can almost phase out the ache between your legs as Whitney’s cock carves out your insides. 

That semi-blissful state comes to an end as Kylar straddles your chest, cum smeared cock resting against your lips.

“L-love?”

“Responds better to slut.”

Kylar shoots a dark look over his shoulder, making Whitney laugh, before turning back to you. With a trembling hand, Kylar strokes the side of your face, pausing as he feels small cuts from where Whitney had pressed your face into the wall of the alley. “H-he hurt you?”

You want to scream. Whitney was hurting you now, his cock bruising your insides, nails digging into your thighs, but Kylar was focusing on a few scrapes and bruises? “Kylar…” you try to say something, anything, but your tongue feels too thick for your mouth. 

His eyes light up, a wild grin stretching across his face as his thumb glides over your lips. “I-I’ll take care of those,” he says, thin fingers ghosting over the curve of your cheek again before brushing over your mouth again. “J-just, just, p-please?” His cock presses against your lips once more, and you don’t have it in you to refuse. Begrudgingly, you open your mouth as much as you can with your body still feeling unreal, letting Kylar slide his cock into your mouth. 

“You don’t have to ask ‘em shit, idiot,” Whitney grunts from between your legs, but Kylar doesn’t seem to hear him, too entranced by the sight of your lips around his cock. 

Maybe it was because Kylar ignore him, maybe it was because he was just a dick, but Whitney reaches out, cupping Kylar’s balls from behind and giving them a squeeze. 

Kylar squeals, bucking forward into your mouth. You try to relax your throat as best you can but it still hurts, tears welling up in the corners of your eyes.

“D-don’t-!”

“They like it,” Whitney cuts him off. “Tighten up real good when you fucked their throat. Do it some more and they’ll cum in no time. Then we can switch. That’s what you want, right freak?”

Kylar’s eyes seem to glaze over at the thought of being the one in between your legs, the one fucking into your sore hole. “D-don’t,” Kylar repeated, all venom gone from his voice as he idly rocks his hips forward. “Don’t c-call me th-that.” Whitney doesn’t respond, only breathlessly laughing again as he continues to fuck you. 

The worse part is, Whitney is right. Your body has been trained to crave pain with your pleasure at this point. Between Kylar slowly fucking your mouth and Whitney rearranging your insides, you’re actually starting to feel good. You know it’s a natural reaction, but that doesn’t stop your face from burning when you do cum on Whitney’s cock, moaning on Kylar’s dick as the loaner pants above you. 

“F-fuck.” Kylar presses his hips flush to your face, cum hitting the back of your throat,  and leaving you no choice but to swallow.

Whitney’s not far after, his pace picking up, swearing under his breath as he chases his own end. With a soft sigh, Kylar rolls off you, curling back around you, pressing soft, almost sweet, kisses to your clammy skin as Whitney finally spends himself inside you. 

Whitney says something to Kylar but you can’t hear them, your ears ringing and mind drifting as you try to process your new lot in life. You’re not even sure when they move away from you, bickering amongst themselves. It’s only when Kylar scurries over, holding bandages and a warm washcloth, that you realize Whitney’s left the room. 

“Don’t w-worry, love,” Kylar coos, running the warm cloth between your thighs. “I’ll get you c-cleaned up and b-bring you some f-food, okay?”

You don’t respond, letting your eyes shut as Kylar starts to take care of you.