#what in the world is his problem | Dominic tag | Explore Tumblr posts and blogs

elsplayground · 7 months ago

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Goverment Hooker

dbf Joel Miller x f!reader ( Joel is a Security Guard )

Summary: Joel miller, your dad’s best friend is a security guard for celebrities. He takes you to one of his jobs as part of a university homework you need to do, but he let his guard down.

Warnings: 18+ MDNI ! No outbreak, Unprotected p in v, mutual masturbation, explicit smut, a lil dominant Joel, secret relationship, orgasm denial, edging, dirty talk, fingering, semi-public sex, very slight bondage ( hand tied up, can easily be freed if wanted),Age gap, DBF Joel because who doesn't like that tbh, reader is in her 20', No body description except outfit and gender, no outbreak, porn w/plot, fluff, kind of slowburn.

w/c: 6k ( i'm actually proud for a second time )

a/n: Second smut !! i'm so proud of this one it's wayyy longer than the first one i did and like 10 times better (crying). Also theres a fanart on the banner but when i found it on pinterest the artist wasnt tagged :((( so please if you know who it is please feel free to comment !! love you whoever is reading this <3

Thank you for reading <3 notes, comments and reblog are heavily appreciated !!

“I need to do this uh…homework” you chew on your food. Good, delicious, and steamy coming right out of the stove. “I have to go to one of you two’s job and make a report” you stab one of the peas in your plate. “I mean I’d gladly take you but you know how boring my job is, huh? And your mom’s abroad” your dad says, rushing to eat his plate.

Your dad works a night job at an Amazon warehouse, something about packing orders, taking a box, putting wrapping paper and the object inside the box, taping it up, taking another box, putting wrapping paper inside, and bla bla bla… Your mom, she’s an airplane pilot going around the world. She’s barely home but she always make sure to send you some well decorated cards with landscapes on them, or to ship some gifts like magnets, you love magnets, your fridge is full of it by now but you still getting excited every time a small box arrives home. But like your dad said, you can’t possibly go with her. “Maybe you should go with Miller, from across the street, remember him ?” Of course you do, even though your dad and him didn’t meet for a long time like they used to. You kind of miss the nights around the barbecue where they would both laugh their ass off together, but now this barbecue is black and grey with dust of burnt charcoal that hasn’t been cleaned in a while. You haven’t talked to Miller since the last time the three of you met for dinner. The only interaction you’d have with him now would only stop at a little wave from across the street and a “hey how you doing?” every once in a while when leaving the house. “I mean why not…” you think. “What’s his job? We haven’t talked in a long time, wasn’t he in a contracting job or something like that ?” Your plate empty, you get up and pick up your plate along with your dad’s and put them into the dishwasher. “ yeah… think he got some problems with his brother, and they were both fired for some reasons. Now I don’t know what he’s doing but he’s wearing black suits every morning when he leaves so maybe it’s a job interesting enough for you to work on it.” He sighs, like a dad sigh, and gets up from his chair, walking out of the room. “food was good honey” he smile. That same night, your dad left for work while you’re in front of Miller’s door. The lights are on inside, it’s dim and gives a comforting vibe to his house which is quite unexpected for a man as rough and difficult as Mr. Joel Miller. You knock on the hard wood of his door, kind of hesitant because why would you go see your neighbor for a homework based on your parents? You shake your head. Whatever, no one is going to know anyways. The door open in a quick swift with a sudden smell of crackling fire and…roasted potatoes and meat? “Hey Miller,” you greet looking into his eyes, brown and sleepy. “I’m sorry to bother you but I had a question quite important.” He smile and nod “whatcha want kiddo’?”. You forgot his seductive accent, a while back it wouldn’t have the same effects that it has on you right now. You’re still a little hesitant to ask, afraid to bother him this late and during dinner. “I have this homework I’m supposed to do on one of my parent’s job. I have to go with them for like a day and make a report, but my parents are too busy, and dad told me to ask you instead” “Well, I’d gladly help you but uh, it’s quite early in’a mornin” “That’s fine, I can get up early.” You smile at him “Well now that you’re here,” he looks back to his kitchen, then back at you. “I got spare dinner here, wanna eat here so we can talk about this a little and maybe if you want…crash here for the night? The job has flexible hours so if I get a call earlier, I need ya to be ready.” This was kind of unexpected, but you’re surprised, a good surprised. “I’m down but I didn’t take any clothes with me. Honestly, I wasn’t sure you’d agree with this.”

You laugh it off, kind of embarrassed and a bit flustered. “I’ll give you something to sleep in” he smiles.

Spending the night at his house, eating dinner with him. All these emotions, the butterflies in your stomach is all new. You never really thought about it, but hell Mr. Miller is kind of hot. You’ve always dated guys your age. Some were good and some others disappointing, but you never thought of dating someone older and especially not this old or anyone being your dad’s best friend. The forbidden love that is so slowly and so suddenly growing in you. Why now? Why him. You sit down at the end of the table. Joel’s in the kitchen preparing the food. He brings the plates to the table, and he sit at your left, close to you. And you were right, it was potatoes and meat, and it was quite good compared to what you thought Joel was capable of and it’s quite pleasing to be eating this good. After a while talking about your homework, how the day would most likely go and you daydreaming about how hot he is the more you look at him, he offers you to watch a movie before bed. You both sit down and start watching this movie called Curtis and Viper 2, you’d figure it’s his favorite since he can’t stop going “oh look here” or “I love this scene” every once in a while. After what feels like a hour, your eyes are slowly closing and before you realize, your head is on his shoulder. It was slowly falling with time, and by the look on his face he doesn’t seem to be too bothered about you getting so close to him. “Wake up sweetheart” his voice is calm. You lift your head to follow the sound of his voice “I’m so sorry, I didn’t mean to fall asleep on you like that,” you say while standing up. “I think I’m gonna take a shower before bed.” You go upstairs and into the bathroom. It’s quite big and smells like colognes and 3 in 1 shampoo. You always feel weird taking a shower at other people’s house, scared someone might walk in so you cough loudly to let the whole house know someone’s in here. You take a big towel for your body, a small one for your face and hair and hang them both on the dryer to make them warm for when you get out. The water is hot and steamy, droplets hits your face like ashes from a fire and you’re hot but not just from the water. Your core keeps burning for him and it gets worst with time. You can’t stop thinking about him, His face, his body, his shirt showing every detail of his biceps, his veins going down his arm and hands, his calloused fingers from playing guitar touching you, feeling your body. Fuck. Too far. You rinse the soap off your body and step out of the shower. The light is dim and making you even more sleepy than you already are. You put on whatever moisturizer Joel has in his bathroom filled with man products, breaking your skincare for one night won’t affect your skin too much. Suddenly the door open. Maybe you should’ve fucking coughed instead of daydreaming like a teen. Joel stops, his mouth slightly open in an “o” shape.

“Fuck, I’m so sorry sweetheart I should’ve knocked first,” he turns his head around as you quickly grab your towel from the floor and wrap it around you. “ ‘forgot to give you clothes before you got in.” He hands you the clothes, his clothes, considering Sarah has left a long time ago. “It’s okay you can look, I’m covered.” You say shyly. He turns back to you and unconsciously look you up and down without saying a word. You take the stash from his hands. “Thank you, I’ll be out in a minute” you smile. You finish changing in his shirt, a too-big dark brown shirt with his name embroidered on the top right part, must be from his old job as a contractor. You figure you’d be better in your panties rather than the pants he gave you considering the weather and how warm it is in this house. You go back into the living room and start searching for a blanket to sleep in. Luckily one big enough to cover your body but not your feet is folded neatly in a drawer under the TV. “Whatcha doin?” Joel goes down the stairs. “Oh I’m just…getting my bed ready” “There’s no way you’re sleeping here,” he says, in a commanding tone “Sarah’s room is my gym now, so you’ll sleep in my bed.” You let out a muffled laugh “yeah like you’ll sleep on a damn couch with your broken back you old grandpa ?” He looks at you with a crooked smile, a little hurt since you called him a grandpa but your personality makes him smile. “Yeah well what do ya suggest smartass ?” You’re hesitant to even try to suggest it but hell if he doesn’t want you on the couch then you need to try other solutions no matter how embarrassing they can be. “Then let’s both sleep in your bed.” You both end up in his bed. It’s awkward, a lot, but at least it’s comfy. Joel is long fallen asleep while you twist and turn every few minutes trying so hard to sleep but something is keeping you awake, something deep down in your core. Joel turns and end up facing you, still sound asleep. You can’t help but look at him and all his features. His crooked nose, his wrinkles softer than when he’s awake. It makes you realize that he’s almost constantly frowning, giving him a mean gaze that could scare people that don’t know him personally. But here, now, he’s so soft and so different. Oh, and he’s shirtless. It’s distracting but you’re in panties, so it feels a bit more casual. His skin is slightly tanned, just the perfect kind of tanned at this time of the year, and it’s a good tan, a brown one not a tomato kind of tanned. Fuck, you need to sleep. You turn around trying not to think about him and finally sleep, when you suddenly feel something against you. Joel moved closer, and he’s now wrapping his arm around your waist. Your breath stops for a second. It’s probably just a reflex from his body but he’s so warm, a good warm even though it’s hot under the sheets but you don’t want to wake him up. The sensation in your core is growing, like an alien trying to come out of your stomach to eat you out. “Fuck you Miller” you whisper. You hear a phone buzz and it’s waking you up. Joel is still holding you but now he’s closer and you can feel something hard on your lower back. It makes you blush but no matter how hard you try, his arm is holding you tight and you can’t escape. “Joel,” you shake his arm slowly. You hear him grumble. “Your phone is ringing”.

“Shit” he finally wakes up and it takes a few seconds for him to realize the position he’s in, and the way his body reacted to yours. “I’m so sorry, I uh… I have no excuse” he jumps out of the bed and takes his phone. He takes the call and leave the room. You check the clock. 5 a.m., you throw yourself back into the bed. “a C might’ve been better than this” you spit. Joel comes back in the room after a few minutes. “Just got a call, some job for us in a city nearby, you should get dressed” he leaves the room once again.

You put on the same clothes as yesterday, a black tank top with black shorts and some converse. You thought maybe dressing all black just like Joel’s uniform would make you look a bit more professional.

“You look stunning” Joel says, entering the room in a full black costume. It’s neatly ironed, not a single wrinkle in sight.

“Looking good too, Miller,” you walk towards him and tighten his tie a bit more.

He smiles “thanks angel”. Dammit, can’t he stop with the pet names, he’s going to make you blush.

“So, where are we going?” you tie your shoe laces in a tight ribbon

“I told ya’, a city a few minutes away from here. We’re taking my truck.”

You already took a trip in Joel’s truck when you were younger, but it was different, your dad was here to do the conversation and make things less embarrassing but now it’s a whole different situation. You still don’t know what to do with your feelings, should you tell him on the road? during the job? you can’t think straight with the small time of sleep you had.

You both hop into his truck; the weather is still quite hot for an early morning.

“How much time till we get there?” you buckle up and look at your phone.

“We got 20 minutes, you can put on some music if you want”

You connect your phone and put on some Arctic Monkeys on. You’re still debating if you should try to make a move on Joel because honestly, you’re starting to miss getting laid, and trying it out with an older guy would be fun.

But the fact that Miller is your dad’s friend makes it weird. Would he get along with it? Or would he just stop you the moment you put your lips on his?

Giving it a try won’t hurt considering you barely see him anyways so avoiding him won’t be too hard. Just no waving and no “Hi Mr. Miller” from across the street.

After like 5 minutes, Joel finally talks.

“Are you seeing anyone? Some guy from your school?” He lowers the volume of your music.

“No, why?” Here. Make a move. “Would you be jealous if I was?” you open the drawer in front of you and search for some candy, every sane people has some sweets in their car. You find a lollipop and unwrap it.

“ ‘twas just a question” he says as you put the lollipop in your mouth and lay your feet on the dashboard. He side eyes you and sigh.

“Well, no, no one’s interesting enough, I guess. Everyone is so focused on school; I haven’t seen a single person kiss another in the corridors or in some empty classes.”

You lick at your lollipop as you make eye contact with him. “Guess I should try older.” You smirk.

You see him adjust in his seat and taking a deep breath. He turns the volume back on to the song.

“How many secrets can you keep ?

‘Cause there’s this tune I found

That makes me think of you

somehow”

This song couldn’t be even more on point than now.

“What about you,” you ask, “You seeing anyone?”

“Not really, not really searchin’ for sum’ serious right now” he leans on the edge of his window, putting his hand into a fist to cover his mouth, he fidgets.

“So like… you just want sex?”

He chokes on his own saliva and coughs “What the fuck are you on about? Jesus “he spits “I mean, maybe, but I’m not actively searching or anythin’”

“You got any age preference?” You take a chance.

“Uh…No, not really” You turn to him, making your belt a bit longer so you can get comfortable.

“Would you fuck me?” You lick on your lollipop; it has become a small pink ball now with all the sucking and licking.

“Jesus girl, you’re my best friend’s daughter” he doesn’t even seem angry or annoyed at the question somehow.

“You didn’t say no though” you smile.

“Doesn’t mean I agree.”

“Okay but, imagine if I wasn’t, would you?” he keeps looking at your lips while you talk.

“You gotta learn how to walk before learning how to run, sweetheart”

“What if I wanna run though?” You say as his grip tightens on the wheel, his knuckles turning white.

You both arrive at a hotel Joel’s company booked before you two arrived. It’s a nice place, a 5 stars hotel. He must stay at the same hotel as the person he has to protect, obviously.

“They booked us…well, me, a single bedroom since it wasn’t really planned for you to come, so we’ll have to share a bed” Joel say

“Again” you smirk. He’s probably already annoyed by you, but he still hasn’t complain, you just assume.

“Come” her orders you, you follow him to the room.

It’s quite big, it has a double bed with dark burgundy sheets and pillows, a big shower along the right side of the room that is basically the size of a whole bathroom, there’s two showerheads and the walls are transparent, so yes, a few meters long shower. What for? No idea.

The toilets are on the other side of the room along with a double sink and a huge light up mirror and fancy soaps you will definitely steal. There’s windows and a balcony in the between with a fancy view on the city.

“We’re gonna have to sleep here tonight if that’s okay with ya’, we might come back home late, and the room is free so we should enjoy instead of going home.”

two nights in a row in the same bed as Joel wasn’t something you’ve planned but you’re not mad about it, to be honest. As long as your assignment is complete…hopefully.

“We got an hour before we have to leave,” he put his bag to the side of the bed. “You can sleep a bit if you want, try to take back the hours of sleep you lost.”

Wait? is he aware that you were awake? Did he grab you on purpose? There’s no way.

“I’m not really tired anymore,” you sit on the bed in front of Joel as he unbuttons his suit jacket. You look up at him and bite your lips. You’re praying inside that he doesn’t reject you, that he follows your movements.

“Well, ion’ know what else you could do besides wait here like a behaved girl” Fuck, was this intentional? If not, it still turned you on.

You have no idea what to do right now, unbuckle his belt, suck him off? Or tease him?

Tease him.

You stand up and start walking towards the huge transparent walls shower, taking off your clothes on the way. Once arrived in the shower, you stand under the showerhead, open the water hose, and turn around searching for Joel.

He’s looking at you with black eyes, devouring you with his hands on his hips.

“Fuck” he spits.

He hurries to unbutton his shirt and take his fancy well ironed pants off along with his boxer.

Oh.My.God.

Your heart has never raced this fast in your life. He’s so big and he’s not even hard yet, you wonder how you never notice it before.

He gets into the shower and stand right in front of you under the shower, the water dripping down his hair and the tip of his nose.

“I don’t know what the fuck ya’ want from me, but you’re tempting me you fucking tease” His word travel down your spine and reaches your core.

His hands slide down your side, reaching your panty line.

“You have an hour to choose if you want to have fun or if you wanna go get a snack and get ready to write your lil’ presentation about me” his face gets closer to yours as your back arches.

“What if I want you to be my snack?” You say, slightly touching the tip of his cock growing bigger the more he looks at you.

He takes your wrists and pin them above your head and hold them up with one of his hands as the other grip one of your breasts. His fingertips are slightly twisting your nipple as he brings his lips to yours, indulging in a dirty, filthy kiss being washed away by the water running down.

Your hand grabs his shaft, stroking it slowly. “You’re so dam’ teasing’, if your father finds out I’m making out with his daughter, I’m a dead man” he growls as your hand twist slightly when reaching the tip of his cock

“We can keep it secret.” You smirk

“You wanna be my dirty little secret, huh?”

You hear a phone ringing on the bed, but Joel turns your head back to him. “Leave it, they’ll call back.”

After a session of teasing and kissing in the too-big shower, the both of you come out of it all wet and steamy. Joel picks up a towel and wrap it around you. He takes another one, smaller, and dries your hair with it. He is so gentle even though you’ve been closed to him for a few hours only, the day before he would only see you as the daughter of your best friend that lives across the street, nothing more.

Joel walks to the bed and pick up his phone, his towel around his hips.

“Fuck!” He screams. “Boss called, the woman I was supposed to work for left earlier, we should’ve been gone by now” He put his clothes back on, muttering shit shit shit while doing so.

A black car with tinted windows comes out of the underground garage of the hotel and stops right in front of you.

“You’re in fucking trouble Miller” The driver guy said. He is big, his black vest almost merging into one with his muscles.

Joel opens the door for you and almost pushes you in.

“We’re ten minutes away from her, you better get yourself ready M” he says, hitting the gas.

You feel something on your thigh, crawling all the way from your knee to the base of your leg, Joel’s warm hands are touching you, slowly going towards your inner thigh.

“What are you doing?” you whisper. He gets closer to your ear while his hand finally touches your clit through your panties.

“You got me in trouble, made me lose my mind just so I could touch you,” He pulls your panties to the side and slide two fingers through your slit, wetting them just before entering your core with thick digits.

You struggle to keep your pleasure to yourself as a few squeals comes out of your mouth. The car is going fast, the sound of the engine covering whatever filthy sounds you make.

His other hand is reaching for the neckline of your top, his finger slightly pulls on it to have a quick peek of your breasts. You keep panting, his finger crooked into you, reaching that soft spongy spot that makes you shiver if it’s played with a little too much.

“ ‘Atta girl” he say, your heart pounding harder, getting closer to your climax and then…

He stops. Fuck

Your walls are clenching around nothing, it’s demanding for more, something bigger. It’s only waiting for him, but how much longer can you hold it?

The car pulls up to a fancy restaurant with a forest green and gold storefront. You see a few paparazzi outside taking pictures from afar, probably of the girl inside.

The driver gets out of the car and pull out his phone, calling to get orders.

“Take them off” Joel says looking at you, then your hips

“What…My panties?” you frown.

“Yeah” He smirk, and he’s so damn hot when he does.

You take your shorts off along with your panties. They’re black with some floral lace at the top, hot but still comfortable and covering.

Joel takes it in his hands and makes a small ball of fabric out of it and put it in the back pocket of his jeans. “Mine” he whispers, kissing you one last time before getting out of the car, holding out his hand for you to follow him.

“We have to secure the perimeter and make sure none of this fuckers get in” the big guy say as you take out your notebook and a pen from your backpack and start taking notes: how things start, Joel’s role, his coworkers, and other thing you couldn’t care less about because right now your mind is focused on Joel and not his work, more like the stuff in his pants.

You follow Joel inside the restaurant as he gives his name to the front desk. He sits you at a table near the outside window.

“Sit here so I can keep an eye on ya’ from outside, take your notes here…look at me and scribble whatever you needa scribble,” he gently caresses your hair as you look up to him “Order anything ya’ want, it’s on me sweetheart” he kisses your forehead and rushes outside, seating at an outside table as a server brings him a cup of coffee. He looks so damn professional for a man who has finger fucking you just a few minutes ago while on your side, you can’t stop thinking about him, your inner thigh still dripping wet.

You order the breakfast menu with some fancy beacon and eggs with toast that cost way too much for little to no change compared to the ones you make at home.

The lady Miller and his big friend are supposed to watch is not far away from you, she’s really pretty, you actually don’t know who she is but considering her style she might be a model, or an actor…or a singer?

Your phone buzzes in your pocket, you see a number pulling up with a text.

Unknown Number: Still wet baby ?

You: Joel ??? howd u get my number?????

You save his number into your contacts.

Joel: Your dad just gave it to me, in case

You put your phone back on the table and keep writing stuff on your notebook, adding more details to the things you’ve already summed up earlier.

Your phone buzzes again.

Joel: what you writing ?

You: Shouldn’t u be watching that girl instead of me ?

Joel: yeah but I’d rather focus on you and ur bare pussy

You: omg shut up and do your work so I can have an A+

After a full day of running around town following that lady no matter where she’d go; Louis Vuitton, Prada, a random grocery store for some Redbull. All this while Joel and the big guy were watching her along with a few paparazzi they had to push away. You? You were standing behind Joel the whole time, trying not to be a menace to his job like this morning. All this time of walking around in no panties with only your shorts for cover, you finally go back to your hotel room, exhausted.

“Fuck it I’m so damn tired” You pant after walking up to your room.

Joel comes from behind, throwing your bag away and grabs you from behind, nestling his nose in your neck.

“You too exhausted to get taken care of angel?” you feel his lips curving into a smile against your skin. “Maybe I have a little energy to play a bit” you smile too.

He spins you around and crashes his lips onto yours, taking your breath away in a second. He starts undoing your shorts, freeing your cunt for good. He immediately slides his hand down to feel the wetness between your legs.

“You’re so damn wet, is it all because a’me baby?” he says, close to your ear.

“You made me wait all day long,” you say, “don’t act so surprised.”

“Stop being such a brat, honey, I’m gonna take good care of you, like no one did before.”

And you know he doesn’t lie, just this morning in the shower and in the car, he treated you way better than any man did before, not that Miller is so damn special but the boys you were with were mostly unexperienced or scared, now at least he knows where your clit and your G spot is.

You’d never thought you’d do this with a person way older than you but now that you think about it, it should’ve been on your bucket list for a while.

He starts kissing you, again and again, not letting a single air particle get through your mouth as he pushes you until the back of your knees touches the table behind you. He grabs your waist, lift you up and sits you on it.

He quickly parts your legs to make space for him as you start to unbutton his plain white shirt.

“You’re so damn hot in that costume Mr. Miller,” you say as he growls for an answer “too bad we need to take it off.”

His bulge is growing bigger with time, his tip pushing onto the zipper. You’re still amazed by how big it is, even though it hurts sometimes it can be exciting.

He finally unzips his pants and take his boxer away while you take your shirt off in a hurry. His cock is throbbing, touching in between your legs almost like its attracted to you like a magnet.

The horniness is high today, the both of you couldn’t stop looking at each other. Him scanning your body up and down when you walk, devouring you with his eyes.

“I hope you touch yourself thinkin’ ‘bout me after that” and he’s right, you might. Touching yourself surely isn’t as good as Joel touching you, or even fucking with him which you’re going to find out, but maybe thinking of him would make it better.

Excitement is pooling in your core, and it’s about to overflow. Your body is heating up as Joel rub himself against your folds, spreading your fluids all over his shaft. Your hips can’t stop moving back and forth almost begging for him to finally get in, to fill you, possess you.

“Please, Joel, please just fuck me already” you keep begging for him.

A slight laugh comes out of his mouth as he finally pushes in and fuck, he’s so big, bigger than you thought it would be inside of you but it’s just perfect. He stretches you just right, almost like he belonged to you, and you belonged to him like a key belongs to one single door.

He starts pushing in, slowly, but your body decided otherwise and started pushing in even more.

“Hey honey, relax,” he takes back the inches you took from him “I wanna go slow, don’t wanna hurt my girl” The stretch did hurt a little bit but it’s like your pussy needs more.

His hips are going back and forth slowly but it still makes you moan, his thick shaft stimulating your inside just right.

“Just like that, baby.” He wet his lips. Your hand goes down and rubs your clit, following his pace.

“That’s it girl, keep touching yourself like that,” he rasps. His head falls back as he feels you tighten around him. “I love seeing you touch yourself like that baby”.

His hips start to trust faster and deeper, rubbing on your g-spot making you shiver after a few times with your hand stimulating you.

Your nails keep digging into his back, and it hurts him. You know because he keeps frowning. “Fuck baby your nails are sharp as fuck” Getting long black Stiletto nails was a bad idea.

He crashes his lips onto yours as he suddenly lifts you up in his arms, his cock still in you.

“Imma make you pay for those marks” He says as he look in the mirror behind him giving a full view on the mark you imprinted on him.

He throws you onto the bed, making your walls suddenly clench around nothing. You see him grab his tie he left on the bed earlier and brings it around your wrists.

“Oh -- so your form of punishment is to tie me up, huh?” you smile.

“Uh huh” he nods.

He makes a tight knot; you know for sure it’s going to leave marks on your wrists…that’s his way of making you pay for his.

He throws your arms over your head, one of his hands holding you down. Your unable to move, unable to feel his body with your hands, this is the worst punishment you could think of for your first time knowing you probably won’t see each other for a while once you go back home, unless you hide, all this until maybe this goes further and one day you reveal to your dad that you’re fucking his best friend for a while. Damn it, you shouldn’t be thinking about this, right now you should focus on Miller and enjoy the night while it last.

He keeps fucking you deep and rough, your hand still tied up firmly. He pounds into you, changing his pace from time to time until you’re on the edge of cumming, finally.

“Joel please, I’m so close” your brows furrow, your head is spinning with excitement, and it get worse the closer to your climax you get.

“Cum for me baby, I’ll cum after you do” Looks like he put women first, he’s a gentleman.

After more moans, and more trusting, you finally come, your juices spreading all over him.

“Atta’ girl, good job” he praises you, and fuck he’s doing it well. He finally comes too, emptying out on your belly.

“Fuck Joel, I love you”

You didn’t mean to say that – but maybe you do, kind of. Good thing he doesn’t seem to have noticed as he kisses your forehead, gets up and walk to the opened shower. He comes back holding a small towel that he submerged in warm water. “There, baby” he says while cleaning your tummy.

After a whole night fucking with Joel multiple times and discovering more things about your body, and new positions, you finally go back home. Your essay is done and hopefully going through all this will get you an A+.

You’re on your couch with your dad, talking about how your day went while watching TV, obviously skipping the whole fucking your best friend part, when the broadcast is showing pictures of the woman Joel had to cover yesterday.

“Oh, look that’s her !” You say, excited. “That’s the woman we were with yesterday, didn’t talk to her, she seemed nice even though she’s a celebrity and they’re often viewed as self-centered and unaware but she-“

Your dad pauses the TV and looks at you with wide eyes, cutting you off. You look at the image on the wide flat screen and see you and Joel kissing in 4K HD right in front of your dad, furious. Your heart skips a beat, or multiple.

“You got some explaining to do, young girl.”

<3 Hr43s

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going-to-ikea-for-the-fries · 8 months ago

Note

One of your "It's a Match" chapters gave me an idea. LOVE that series btw!

What if Gaz is a virgin so Simon let's him lose his virginity with his gf? Simon is there to guide Gaz and make sure he does it right so you get as much pleasure out of it as needed. Then you give Gaz the ride of his life while Simon controls when and where he gets to cum. The poor man whimpering beneath you from the edging and denial until he finally gets permission to cum.

Sub!Gaz x Dom!Simon x Switch!Reader

(Feel free to ignore this as well.)

Took some creative liberties with the prompt and made Switch!Reader a mean/brat tamer domme even if Gaz isn’t necessarily a brat (just felt more practical for me to do it). Sue me.

Sharing is caring. || Gaz x F!Reader x Ghost

Rating: E Words: 4.7K (this one got away from me sorry) Pairing: virgin!Gaz x gf!Reader x bf!Simon CW: smut, voyeurism, hotwifing, domination/submission, oral sex (m! and f! receiving), unprotected piv, fairly rough/forceful sex (BUT CONSENSUAL), praise, slight verbal degradation?, body mods (piercings). other tags: pre-established couple, loss of virginity, pre-agreed upon conditions, consent checks, no beta we die like soap. a/n: no thoughts, just vibes. NOT PROOFREAD

Simon first brought it up one sleepy Sunday evening, when you two were lying side by side in bed, his arms snaked around you as you read an e-book, his eyes glued to the TV on an episode of some crime show.

“You know,” He had said, Roman nose rubbing the top of your head affectionately. “I’d like to run something by you.”

“Hm?” You cooed as you rolled your head back on his chest to look up at him.

“So Kyle has this problem,” Simon began to explain as he looked down at you, brown eyes peering through his blonde lashes.

That got your senses tingling and you immediately set aside the tablet to dedicate your attention to the topic at hand, turning your body to properly face him, your arm coming to rest on his shoulder.

“What kind of problem?” You questioned, an eyebrow raising in intrigue.

Simon’s eyebrows twitched lightly, a tell-tale sign he was about to bring up something ‘embarrassing’, some good gossip. “Go on!” You immediately insisted, catching the little microexpressions on his face.

“He’s a virgin.” Simon revealed, causing you to gasp, pulling your head back and shaking it in confusion.

“NO?!” You said in shock. “With that pretty face of his?” You blinked.

“I know.” Simon says and then cocks a brow upward. “So what do you say?”

You didn’t need clarification, you simply smirked and shot him a look.

That’s how you ended up here.

Simon made all the arrangements, established rules with Kyle, and finally brought him over the that following Friday.

“You sure about this, sir?” Kyle asks, ever respectfully, sat on your living room couch, with you by his side, Simon sitting across from you on the arm chair by the chandelier.

“As sure as anyt’in’.” Your boyfriend replies and casts a glance at you. “You sure, da’lin’?”

“100% sure.” You answer, before glancing at Kyle. “Are you sure about it?”

“I… I am. But… It’s… It’s your relationship, I don’t want to cause an issue.” Kyle tells you, looking at you sheepishly, dark lashes fluttering anxiously over those stunning brown eyes of his.

“It’s not our first time doing this, I’m sure Simon’s told you all about it.” You reply in a reassuring tone.

“I know but…” Kyle says as he looks at you, your hand on his knee, finger drawing light circles on the denim of his pants.

“We’ll start off slow, at your pace. If ever there’s anything you don’t like, we’ll stop.” You assure him. “Simon’s here for that, after all… Not just for my sake, but yours too.” You add.

Kyle nods and gulps down a deep breath, casting one last glance at the form of his lieutenant, sat imposingly on the arm chair, legs spread open, lounging without a car in the world. One of his legs is bent near the seat, the other stretched across, foot resting on the edge of the coffee table, and arms resting comfortably on the rests, one of his hands holding a tumbler of Bourbon. His head is cocked to the side with interest.

The young sergeant nods again and slowly leans toward you. One of his hand tentatively wraps around your hip, fingers grazing the expanse of your ass in the shorts you’re wearing, while the other grabs you around the back of the neck, his lips connecting to yours.

Your warm, wet tongue swirling with his, soft breaths and gasps coming from your mouth as you let him take the lead for a moment... it’s all making his confidence grow. Sure, he’ll need guidance eventually, but for now he’s got this.

His hand slides to cup your ass, grabbing it with a greedy grasp, squeezing his fingers into the thickness, the other sinking into your hair, fingers gently clutching your scalp as they tug into the hairs.

He’s kissed plenty of people before, this isn’t new for him, and yet, it still feels completely different, in the way you’re not ‘his’ to kiss. But, somehow, that makes it all the better.

Slowly, your lips separate and you glance up at him a single look to check on his state and he nods imperceptibly, which causes your hands to slide down his chest and begin feeling him up.

His arms wrap around your waist, pulling you atop of him, hands sliding under the fabric of your top to feel up your back as your own find the hem of his t-shirt and tug it up to expose his chest.

Your fingers trace his pecs, his abs, nails softly drawing down atop him, making him shiver. He’s younger than Simon, his skin infinitely smoother, his body fat percentage definitely lower, not a trace of hair on him. It’s so different from your boyfriend�� And you welcome the change.

You help him take off his t-shirt, throwing it haphazardly to the side and then lower your mouth onto his jaw, neck, shoulders, collarbones… You’ve barely started and the poor kid looks like he’s already seeing the universe and all its stars, his cock having sprung to attention so quickly that the bulge in his pants keeps rubbing against your inner thigh.

Slowly, you slip down from atop of him, your hands sliding down his body as you kneel before him on the floor, hands tracing over his thighs in the jeans he’s wearing, fingers squeezing his strong muscles through the fabric.

“You’ve never gotten a bj before, have you?” You ask him, eyebrows cocked and eyes locked onto his face. He shakes his head immediately, muttering something about ‘getting a handy’ back in secondary but that was the extent of it.

“Poor thing.” You coo at him. “Never got to feel a pretty mouth wrapped around that cock, hm?” Yo teased him playfully, watching how his eyes widened, eyebrows scrunching pitifully, as you undid his belt and tugged down his jeans.

“You’re in good hands, Garrick. She’ll take good care of you. Has a very talented throat.” Simon pipes up behind you. You don’t even have to look behind you to spot the smirk on his lips, the way the dulcet of his voice comes just short of a boast and a brag of how lucky he himself is, and how lucky Kyle is that Simon was willing to share you.

You help Kyle out of his sneakers and jeans before beginnin to palm him through the black cotton of his boxer briefs, his cock already peeking up from behind the waistband, leaking precum in anticipation. “Someone’s eager, hm? Are you excited, Kyle?” You quip to him.

“Mhm. Very. Very!” Kyle nods, his eyes glued to every single movement of yours, from the way your hands palm at his bulge, to how your fingers caress his smooth skin, to how they hook onto the waistband and roll down his underwear, peeling it off his body.

He’s big, bigger than Simon, even, though not as thick… He’s circumcised and he’s perfectly shaven. You wonder if he did that for your sake, or his own preference. There’s a thick vein running down the underside of him, one you can’t wait to feel pulse against your tongue.

Taking his cock in your hand, you stroke it slowly before allowing your tongue to run atop of it, base to tip, your tongue gently grazing the leaky tip, spreading the precum over the head before slowly parting your lips and guiding him inside.

The moan that escapes the boy in front of you makes you smirk, he twitches below you, fingers clenching on either side of his thighs, as if resisting squeezing into tight fists as you slowly allow his cock to slide deeper into your mouth. Then, you start bobbing it, up and down, cheeks hollowed out and lips grazing the warm skin leaving a mess of saliva around him.

Kyle’s quick to react this time, his hand grabbing you by your hair, legs trembling on either side of you. Your eyes shoot up to find his, only to find that his head is falling back onto the back of the couch, eyes screwed closed, mouth hanging open like he’s experiencing an out of body experience.

“He’s certainly enjoying himself, isn’t he?” Simon remarks behind you, receiving a finger signal from you, a sign of agreement, a preestablished way of communicating, since your mouth was busy. “That feel good, Kyle?”

“Y-Yeah… Yeah… I-It… God…” Kyle groans in between swallowed breaths. Poor thing, you want to coo at him, already too lost in the pleasure to even speak… Oh, how beautiful he’ll look soon, fucked out under you, drunk on your pussy…

You don’t notice Simon coming up from behind you until you feel his hand grip your head, atop of Kyle’s, calloused fingers digging into your scalp. His other hand shoots out to grab Kyle’s head from the back, pulling it forward so he’s forced to stare at you.

Then, your head is shoved forward, Kyle’s cock sliding down your throat with no warning Simon’s hand holding you in place, while Kyle’s eyes widen and an obscene moan escapes his mouth. Simon controls your head, pulling and pushing you onto Kyle’s hip.

It’s no wonder that Kyle’s whole body starts to tremble, eyes widened and having trouble staying focused, or open, mouth left wide open as Simon makes him fuck the back of your throat, experienced eyes keeping watch of your reactions and signals and of Kyle’s…

He’s controlling the speed at which you go, how deep you take his cock down his throat, how much of a mess you make with your spit, and how long you get to breathe whenever he pulls you off before pushing you back on. A reminder. He’s always in control.

“Come down her pretty throat, go on, Garrick.” Simon demands. Kyle, poor thing, has already been holding on with teeth and nails to keep himself from climaxing too soon, wanting to prove himself as more than just inexperienced… But Simon’s order is so severe, he can’t keep it up… And he lets go, twitching in your mouth and shooting his come down your throat.

Simon lets go of you both, giving you a moment to catch your breaths, brown eyes staring at the result of what you just did, you, out of breath, a mess of drool down your chin, and eyes welled up with tears, and Kyle, out of breath, a mess of drool around the base of his cock, and eyes glazed over.

“Good job, da’lin’...” Simon tells you, pulling you up ever so slightly, kissing you sweetly, his tongue piercing flicking across your tongue, as if he’s looking for a taste of Kyle in your throat.

After a moment, he pulls back and looks at Kyle. “Now, you’re gonna thank her for the favour she made ya, hm?” He warns. “Let’s take this to the bed. C’mon.” He demands, taking you by the hand and leading you to the bedroom, leaving Kyle to have to keep up.

Simon, unlike you, is a practical man. He doesn’t waste time. By the time Kyle has made it to the bedroom after barely 20 seconds, he’s already got you naked and splayed atop the mattress, a pillow placed under your hips.

He’s on his knees in front of you and beckons Kyle closer with two fingers, before he uses those same two fingers to rub over your folds and spread them open, revealing just how wet you’ve gotten from merely giving Kyle head. “You see that?” Simon coos at him while you stare at them both, holding yourself up on your elbows.

“Y-Yes, sir.” Kyle replies with a nod, his own hand reaching to touch you, carefully sliding between your puffy lips, gliding across easily through the slick.

Simon grabs Kyle’s wrist and carefully guides it across to your clit, finding it with the speed of a man that’s been fucking you often since you two started dating. He knows your body, knows you better than anyone, and he’s about to show Kyle exactly how to touch you to get you to fall apart like he does…

You immediately stiffen up when you feel the pads of Kyle’s fingers against your clit, the pressure behind them coming from Simon’s hand as he rolls his fingers in light circles. It’s familiar and it immediately causes you to hum in pleasure and hiss, lying yourself back on the mattress.

“Ideally, you always keep something touch that needy little clit there.” Simon explains, more like he’s giving an anatomy lesson than having a threesome. “Be it a tongue, a finger, what have you.”

Simon’s hand then slides Kyle’s fingers away, making you whimper from the loss of contact. “Be patient, da’lin’, you’ll get more soon.” He quips. “Needy girl… Thought you were going to be all bossy with Kyle, now look at you…” He coos.

Simon turns Kyle’s hand over and, using his own hand, parts your puffy cunny before helping Kyle push two digits into your slick warmth. Kyle’s fingers are no biggy, not thick and calloused like Simon’s, and they’re surprisingly easy to take on. You moan softly at them, before becoming just a bit more vocal when Kyle’s fingers pad over your G-spot when Simon curls them just so.

“Right there, you see that?” Simon beckons, Kyle responding with mild agreement that you don’t even register because, soon, his fingers start moving, fucking in and out you per Simon’s instruction, while your boyfriend’s tongue quickly finds your clit, the cold piercing rubbing and flicking at your most sensitive spot, causing your back to arch on the bed.

“Oh, fuck, Simon…” You whine, legs already shaking, more so per the stimulation, which causes your boyfriend to use both of his free hands to keep your knees spread open as far as he could comfortably get them, tongue still lapping up at you with purposeful strokes.

The shaggy blond hair of your boyfriend vanishes for a moment, as does the experienced tongue touching you, before it gets replaced with Kyle’s slightly messier and uncoordinated attempts, Simon observing Kyle and noting your reactions and how much weaker they are, upset at the lack of proper stimulation.

“C’mon, Garrick…” Simon croons. “Your tongue’s sharp enough to roast Johnny, but you get here and it gets shy?” He taunts, before using his hand on the back of the sergeant’s neck to guide him a bit.

“I’m trying…” Kyle remarks, his face feeling warm against your skin, showing he’s likely blushing despite his darker complexion hiding it, his fingers still moving in the way Simon taught him, his only saving grace.

“Scoot.” Simon remarks and pushes his head aside, ever so slightly, causing him to rest against your thigh. Simon’s head pushes in near Kyle’s, resting against your other thigh, and his tongue catches your clit again, though the angle at he’s at now, slightly at an angle, allows Kyle to spot the way Simon moves his tongue: soft circles, zigzagging side to side, lips also rubbing against you.

Kyle watches closely, eyes widened, pupils blown with lust at the sight of Simon’s face so close and going down on you so eagerly, his eyes glued to your face up top, as if checking every single reaction you have to your boyfriend’s mouth. And react you do. Your moans are louder, jumpy, desperate, your hands grabbing the bed covers and squeezing tight, your cunt seeking Simon’s mouth as you fuck yourself onto it.

Kyle wasn’t the type to watch porn often, having little time and little interest in it, more so because he knew it wasn’t a good habit or realistic to expect it to be realistic… But the sight of Simon’s lips sucking and rubbing into your slick like it was the most delicious meal he’s ever gotten to eat was better than any of the porn he’s actually seen.

Simon’s able to make you come undone in a matter of minutes, the whimpers and needy moans, the shallow breaths, the way your head was left spinning, lolling to the side as Simon eased you down from your peak and then dropped a chaste kiss to your thigh before standing up again.

“You saw that?” He teases Kyle, who nods eagerly, no words coming to his lips after the display he just got. “You’ll get there eventually. With practise.” He assures him before patting him lightly on the shoulder. “Up you go.”

“How are you doing, da’lin’?” Simon asks, checking on you as you nod and show him a thumbs up, causing a chuckle to come from his chest before he takes a seat in another armchair in the corner, a spot he usually uses when having insomnia, right by the windows, to work on his laptop while you sleep near him… Except this time being used for something else.

“Go on, then, continue.” He demands as he sprawls out on the armchair, legs spread and already undoing his belt and fly, seeking relief from the tight feeling in his own jeans.

You nod eagerly and quickly shift to be sat on the bed, pulling Kyle toward you. “You still want this?” You ask him as you look him in the eyes… As if Kyle, needy the way he is now, after the sight of you coming undone on Simon’s tongue, would ever be able to answer anything other than a resounding ‘YES!’.

“Mhm… I do.” Kyle assures you with another nod… So, you kiss again, hands sliding over each other’s bodies just like they had on the couch before, exploring the free skin, allowing Kyle to grope you more easily. He seems fixated on your ass and thighs, fingers kneading the extra meat in them and holding you close.

His cock has long recovered from his first orgasm, now rubbing against your tummy as he kneels in front of you on the mattress. But not for long. Soon, you’ve laid Kyle on his back, and you’re straddling him, one leg on either side, slowly rubbing your folds over the length of his veiny cock.

“You’re gonna take ‘im for a right, da’lin’?” Simon asks, your eyes seeking him out in his armchair. The way you’re positioned, he can see all of you. Your pretty tits, the way your lips spread to rub against Kyle’s shaft, your legs parted open and knees digging into the mattress.

“Mhm…” You reply, your expression having shifted once again from the needy, submissive mess he had made of you, to a more dominant, playful one as you look down at the sergeant below you, looking up at you like he knows he’s in for a wild one.

“Go on then… But try not to break him, yeah?” Simon teases and winks at you, his hand already palming his cock through his own black boxer briefs.

“No promises…” You quip in return and wink back, before, carefully reaching a hand forward to lift Kyle’s cock from its resting spot against his hip.

Slowly, you sink yourself into it, his narrower build a lot easier to accommodate than Simon’s girth… But you soon regret how eagerly you did it, when you feel Kyle’s sheer size slip inside easily, his tip striking your cervix forcefully with that one swft motion.

“Bloody hell…” You grunt and bounce back a bit to relieve the pressure. “You’re big, aren’t you?” You tease Kyle who’s already unresponsive, poor little thing, eyes twice as wide as they had been when you gave him head, barely nodding in response.

Shifting your weight around, you plant your feet on either side of Kyle’s hip. “I’m gonna move, okay?” You warn him, setting your open palms on his thighs, behind your back, earning another nod from Kyle.

Slowly, you start to ride him, each bounce of your hips drawing the most delicious moans out of Kyle, his head lolling back over the foot of the bed, eyelids fluttering and his back arching.

“Gah- Fuck-” Kyle grunts, his breath already ragged before you’ve had time to do anything, just slowly moving, feeling his lengthy size rub against your walls as you force him to bottom out every time.

Kyle’s voice gets higher, whinier, his forehead dribbling with sweat with each thrust you force his cock to deliver into your slick cunny. “Feels… so… sososo so good…” He whimpers, his tone almost pathetic.

“Yeah… does it feel good?” You croon at him, a mischievous smirk on your lips, his cock drawing soft moans off your mouth as well.

“Yeah… yeah… yeah…” Kyle nods needily, his breath staggered and swallowing excess saliva.

“Yeah? Was it all you were expecting, pretty boy?” You tease him some more, earning another handful of needy ‘Yeah’s, his mind too overwhelmed with pleasure to consider saying anything else. “You don’t want me to go faster then, do you?”

“No… no… faster…” He replies, his head shooting forward, clearly eager to experience what ‘faster’ would feel like.

“Oh? Then you were lying? It doesn’t feel good, you need it faster?” You croon at him as if he was behaving like a brat and not like the good boy he really was.

“No… nO… it’s- it’s-!” Kyle tries to reply, desperate to clear the misunderstanding. Not that you give him time for it, as you speed up the speed of your bouncing, taking him in harder with each strike of your hips coming down onto his.

“GOD- YES!” Kyle shouts, eyes shot open and back curling upward, his head snapping forward to look at you and watch the way your pussy swallows every inch of his veiny cock, before letting out a huff and falling back on the bed again, desperate for more.

His hands grab onto your thighs and hips, fingers digging in hard, as you ride him, sweat beginning to slide down your forehead, down your cheeks and neck. Your eyes flitter over to Simon in the corner.

The smug fucker is watching everything with a nasty little half-grin on his lips, brown eyes darkened with lust as he watches you play with Kyle, making him squirm and whimper below you.

“Play with your clit for me, da’lin’.” His voice rings out amidst the frequent and whiney moans coming from Kyle. One of your hands slips away from Kyle’s thigh behind you, finding your clit and rubbing it slowly as you keep bouncing atop of Kyle, hips stuttering lightly as the pleasure becomes more intense.

“That’s it…” Simon says with a chuckle from his armchair, fisting his cock leisurely, as if the sight in front of him wasn’t worth any more from him. “How’s his cock feel, da’lin’?” Your boyfriend asks you.

He’s playing with your head, much like you’re playing with Kyle’s… making you go back and forth between a submissive and dominant mind frame, deriving pleasure from the mind games he’s forcing you to take on.

“It’s big…” You whimper in reply. “So big…” You murmur, your eyes soft and needy as you look at your boyfriend, watching the wicked look in his face..

“Don’t look at me, look at him…” Simon tells you. “Fuck ‘im right, he deserves it.” Simon adds. “Poor lad, been so long without experiencing a pussy…” He teases. “ow’s it feel, Garrick?” He turns his attention, and yours, to the sergeant below you.

Kyle nods pathetically. “Y-Yeah… It’s- Ah-” He whimpers, eyes glazed over with pleasure, too far gone in it, too overwhelmed with the feeling of a warm, wet pussy sheathing his virgin cock.

He’s too fucked out to think… And you’re bound to join him soon enough, with the way he looks below you, your fingers playing with your clit, and his cock swiftly hitting a spot inside you that no man’s ever reached before…

Your hips stutter atop of Kyle’s, your legs straining and tired, sore from the rhythm and position. You shift positions, leaning forward, hands coming to rest on his hard pecs, your head hanging atop of Kyle’s, facing him better.

You grind back and forth, trying to regain strength to continue, feeling Kyle’s tip rubbing deep inside of you, so deep and hard… You can’t help but whine.

“She’s getting tired, Kyle. Go on, it’s your turn.” Your boyfriend quips, his voice dripping with power and command over the two of you.

Kyle didn’t need to be told twice, his arms wrapped around your lower back and he bucked up like a bull, tossing you both aside, the bed creaking with the movement. Whatever insecurity he had is gone.

He pushes your thighs apart with his hip and starts pistoning into you with barely any regard for rhythm or how deep he’s going, his face buried into your neck as he plows into you, grunting and whining like an animal in rut. Not that you mind.

You’re used to Simon (and sometimes a few other mutual ‘friends’ of yours), men who are experienced, who know what to do, how to do it, who aren’t sloppy or erratic, who’s hips don’t jerk with each plunge into your warm cunny… It’s completely different with a bloke like Kyle. Inexperienced, green, but eager and desperate and…

You’re moaning loud and often, nails clawing at his smooth scarless back, eyes rolling as each snap of his hips claps against you like a whip, his cock burying into you to the hilt and back out before plunging back in.

Once more, Simon’s quick to come to your side, quick to crouch by the side of the bed, eyes admiring the way you both act and move, to keep a keen eye on your reactions and his, ready to pull him off you like a mutt that’ll hurt his mate if the owner doesn’t make him dismount…

But he doesn’t intervene. Not when you’re moaning like a whore, with Kyle sweating and grunting atop you, his eyes screwed shut and looking like he’ll lose every and any ounce of restraint he has in the next 3 seconds, somehow pulling the will to go on from sheer fucking air.

“You gonna flood ‘er little cunt with your come, aren’t you, Kyle?” Simon coos as he rests his forearms on the mattress, a perch to watch better.

“Y-Yeah! Yeah!” Kyle replies with an eager nod, eyes opening for a moment to look at Simon who’s so close to him.

“Yeah? Are you?” Simon continues egging him on. “You gonna fill my girl with your load?” He adds, his voice dropping to a more authoritative tone.

“Y-YEAH!” Kyle raises his voice, a bit more determined, but still deep in his natural state… obedient, ready to die for his superior, for his lieutenant.

“Go on, then,” Simon demands. “I wanna see. I wanna see you fill ‘er up.” He adds. “Tell ‘er you’re gonna do it.”

Kyle’s head turns a bit to look at you, his warm brown eyes blown wide with lust and desperation, his skin slick with sweat, his plump lips parted to let in desperate gulps of air.

“‘m gonna…” Kyle grunts as he shifts his weight lightly, his nose leaning against yours. “Gonna put my come so… deep inside you…” He warns you.

The look in his eyes, the desperation in his tone, the warning tone of his that does not at all fit his personality… Somehow it all comes together to rip the filthiest orgasm out of you, your head rolling back, eyes squeezing shut and a loud whine slipping from your parted lips as you squeeze and contract around Kyle’s cock.

Kyle can’t last not even a second longer the moment you start to come around him. His eyes fall shut, his back arches and he digs his fingers into the bed, toes curling and legs shaking as he fucks his come inside of you, drool slipping down his parted mouth.

“Good job.” Simon’s voice remarks next to you, satisfied and almost… proud, while you’re both too lost in the high of pleasure to even recognize his existence in the room or that you’re… alive, really.

#ikea writes 💚#asks #cod smut #simon ghost riley #kyle gaz garrick #kyle gaz garrick x reader #simon ghost riley x reader #simon ghost riley has piercings change my mind #reqs #gazghost #ghostgaz #ghaz #cod fanfic #simon ghost riley smut #kyle gaz garrick smut #gaz smut #ghost smut

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chocodile · 10 days ago

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Some new OCs with cars to complete the set I made in 2019!

Explanations under the cut.

Young Hyden - 1975 Lamborghini Countach

He would want some sort of luxury sports car. I mean, he'd have to have one. What else could he possibly drive but something loud, flashy, expensive, and oozing with ego and sex appeal?

He couldn't decide between "Cocaine Binge" orange or "Satanic Panic" black so he bought one of each. He alternates between them while the other is in the shop due to either the consequences of his own bad driving or general luxury car malaise.

Unfortunately, the Countach is three and a half feet tall while Hyden is just over seven feet tall. Even with custom seats to accommodate his height, it's not a comfortable driving experience. Luckily for him, the choice to give up his stupid sports cars to spare his aching knees is made for him when he totals one of them in a particularly bad accident and gets his license suspended.

Old Hyden - 1994 Bentley Dominator

It's now the mid 90s and Hyden is older, fatter, and more arthritic. Pickings are pretty slim for a rich man who simply does not fit in a small vehicle. I mean, there are options, but not a lot among the luxury brands, which means those options might as well not exist at all. The SUV boom was still in its infancy and the Bentley Bentayga and Rolls-Royce Cullinan, two other cars I considered for him, would not exist for another decade or a few.

In 1994, in the real world, Bentley made six huge gas-guzzling bricks for the Sultan of Brunei. These luxury car-slabs cost £3,000,000 a pop. In my fictional OC world, Hyden has #7. Or at least would have a similar custom luxury SUV with a similar price tag.

He no longer drives, citing his growing list of illnesses as the reason (No mention of his suspended license). Other drivers on the road breathe a sigh of relief. Of course, that's what chauffeurs are for.

Alternate car: This funny little bunny car toy I bought. Isn't it great?

Alex & Ridge - 1996 Ural Tourist

Instead of a car, Alex gets a motorcycle to symbolize her death wish… and also for other reasons, but that's the main reason.

A practical old thing. It's broken down a million times but she and Ridge always manage to revive it. She appreciates its ability to determinedly haul ass through rugged terrain and the fact that she can carry stuff using the sidecar. Ridge appreciates that sometimes he is the thing that gets carried around in the side car. He is also responsible for the shark face on it. :o)

…He drives it too, of course. He's a perfectly good, reasonable driver. Alex is just kind of a control freak about it. She is one of those people who grits her teeth and presses her foot into the passenger seat floor any time she's riding shotgun. It's easier to just let her be the driver.

They bought it together and drive it all over Europe doing whatever odd shady jobs they do in a modern setting. Alex craves one of those snazzy hyper-durable Japanese motorcycles, but cannot afford one. Maybe someday… Ridge isn't so sure about that kind of change. The bike still works as long as you fix it constantly, so what’s the problem? Plus, he'd be sad to see the shark face go.

#cars #cartoon art #oc art #my ocs #young hyden #hyden #alex #ridge #human #again these are for fun/practice and heavy reffed from photos #I do not know if anyone cares about that in 2024 but the part of me that was raised in the aughts feels the need to mention that

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syoddeye · 9 months ago

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the dinner

ceo!price x reader / ~4.4k words

Parts 1, 2, 3, 4 Very special thank you to @sleepyeugene @greatstormcat and @mortuarywriting for beta-ing ♥️ Tagging: @sweetspicynoodles

CW: alcohol, oral sex

Straw. Actual straw. Collected, cut, snipped, and arranged by careful hands to ring a porcelain plate to resemble a bird's nest. A piece pokes the chicken egg in the center, and a thin drizzle of black truffle sluices from the puncture and soaks into the dry, flat bed of mushrooms.

You would do unspeakable things for a lamb samosa.

The drinks are delicious, though the service, along with everything else, proves an adjustment. Two sips into a kir, savoring, the waiter clears the glasses, moving you into the second dish without a word. Each course you pick through transitions the same: with a person clad in a fancy little vest ferrying away three-quarter full glasses and disassembled plates you ruined in search of flavor.

Baffling. Pompous. Wasteful.

Your work anniversary dinner. Your date with John Price.

Across the table, he dines in his own world. He methodically pierces the egg on his nest-plate-thing, peppery black truffle oozing more neatly than your own onto the mushrooms. He prepares a bite, and you trail it to his mouth. His eyes close briefly, and your lip twitches.

Holding back a sigh, you mirror him as you have the whole dinner, a plebeian to his patrician.

The conversation lulled when a former business associate of John's, wife in tow, briefly stopped at the table. You don't remember either of their names, only that their intrusion was the killing blow. Although introduced, the conversation remained limited to the three. By the time they departed for their table, the plates had changed.

John did not help the silence, seemingly content with it. While generous in material ways, the Moynat proof of that, he was stingy when it came to speaking about himself. He masterfully keeps the focus on you, with a special interest in your time at The 141 Group.

But as you reluctantly dominated the earlier conversation, you were not keen to restart it. You let the quiet continue to hold you hostage.

The server takes the remains of the cheese course, the most palatable and normal by far, and he finally speaks.

"Not a fan of French food?"

Your eyes flick up from the napkin in your lap. Unfazed, the server arranges another clean set of flatware. John's elbows rest on the table, poor etiquette for a man of his station, leaning forward until his breath makes the candle flame flicker. He doesn't move to make the server's job easier, forcing them to work around him.

You glance to the waiter, mildly comforted they seem unperturbed, then return to John's question. "I don't mind it."

"You hardly ate."

"I don't think my palate is refined enough for this," You carefully explain. This is a free dinner. This is the head of your company. You're neither impolite nor stupid to accidentally insult the man's taste.

"I doubt your tongue's the problem," He smirks, then lowers an arm to the table and extends a hand, palm up, expectant. Grins when you take it, thumb dragging over the skin. "I'll let you pick dessert."

The profiterole is an olive branch. A delicious one, vanilla cream and chocolate exploding over your taste buds, erasing the earthiness and grit of the earlier courses. Fingers pinching the dessert's accompanying demitasse, you find John studying you. His choux untouched.

"Not a fan of sweets?" You ask, echoing him.

"Not particularly," He pushes the saucer around the candlestick.

You take the pastry. With so much food wasted already, it'd be a shame to let the taste of paradise slip past.

The server never returns to the table. The meal ends when John informs you the car is waiting out front, and he herds you to the coat check with his hand on the small of your back. He helps you into your wool coat, murmuring, "Pity it's cold out."

You know what he means. It took hours and a FaceTime call with Jordan to pick a dress. Your friend wasn't so much of a consultant as she was a soundboard, reassuring you looked good over and over again.

"He said he liked the green," you explained.

"Told you, big sexy pine tree," Jordan teased, voice crackling through the phone speaker.

You wore the dark emerald dress to a wedding years ago with good results. It's formal enough the maître d' didn't stop you at the door, yet simple enough in its construction that you don't feel like a peacock or a tryhard. The silky material clung comfortably to your frame but wasn't too snug and fell to your mid-calf. The slit that cut a generous distance to your thigh invited John's eyes when you slid into the car upon pick-up, followed by his hand. The dress dipped beneath your scapulae in the back, the scoop neckline traveled straight across your cleavage, and the thin straps exposed your shoulders. You feel sexy, and you know you look it, too.

The coat's lining is cool on your skin, contrasting with the heat of John's breath on the back of your neck. Your things back in your possession, he steers you to the exit.

John pulls Alex aside when you duck into the car, and the bodyguard glances over his employer's shoulder. His attention returns within the second, but a smile forms under his neatly trimmed mustache.

With that furtive look, it occurs to you you don't know what's next on the agenda. Given the lack of edible food and stilted conversation, you'd prefer to head home and tuck into the samosas you've dreamt of all evening. Bid adieu to this alternate universe where you kind of date CEOs and own expensive purses. Yet, from your limited experience with John, leaving the man's company is easier said than done.

It's as if he reads your mind.

"Night's young. Thought we might have a drink, if I haven't completely mucked this up."

You frown. "You haven't," It's unfair he gets to self-deprecate, and your immediate inclination is to comfort and dissuade him. Knowing the man could buy your building with pocket change grates against the simmering frustration in your chest. You want to go home and ditch the date, as you have others, but instead, you are agreeable. "I could use a drink."

If he registers a hint of your inner turmoil, he does not show it. The corner of his mouth lifts in a half-smile. "Good. Somewhere we need to stop first."

He looks out the window and settles a hand above your knee again. You should break the habit, even if his palm is warm and the gesture scratches an itch you don't want to acknowledge.

You observe him in the periphery. Since this situation began in the copier room, you look up John Price online every few days. He's constantly in the news, whether by mention or for a quote. Each story uses one of three photos, all from the same batch of headshots. Interestingly, he seems to avoid video interviews, though there are three or four soundbites where he's been invited to chime in by a network.

His Wikipedia page contains more information on The 141 Group than his personal life. The section itself is a measly three sentences covering his birthplace, heritage, and when he founded the company. And although you knew it was a long shot, you searched high and low across every social media platform you could think of, reactivated your Facebook, and everything. Nothing. His control over his public image seems as ironclad as his control over the company. You count yourself lucky his command extends only to work. If you wanted to exit the car at the next traffic light, you're sure he'd let you out and wish you a good night.

An idle flex of his fingers on your leg, as if he really is a mind reader, extinguishes the thought.

Neon light punctures the tinted windows of the car. Your head swivels, and you scrunch your nose in recognition. John's brought you to a popular row of nightclubs, and fuzzy memories surge to the forefront of your mind. The taste of cheap tequila on your tongue and playing drunken therapy in crowded bathrooms. It's beyond you why John needs to stop here, but you're not opening that can of worms.

John reaches for the door handle, and your arm shoots out without thinking, curling over his forearm.

"John, wait."

He stops immediately. "Something wrong?"

"Can I stay in the car?" You ask, eyes moving past his furrowed brow to the few clubgoers outside. "I'd prefer to stay here."

John's face slackens, and then he turns away, his shoulders heaving with a short laugh. He shakes his head and pats your thigh. "Alright, but I'll need your order."

Confusion finds its home on your face this time until John gestures with a thumb over his shoulder out the car's rear window. A bright red food truck sits behind the private car, warm light spilling onto the sidewalk. You watch a woman claim a paper tray cradling a doner kebab. The sight sinks claws into your belly.

The want must be plain on your face as John chuckles and cracks the car door open.

"C'mon. Two tiny pastries is a poor meal. I cannot, in good conscience, take you for a drink on an empty stomach."

When you order, and he reaches for his billfold, you quickly tap your phone to the register. Thanking the truck owner, you delight in the cross expression on John's face.

"You covered dinner, I assume, unless you've made an accomplice of me," You joke as you step to the side of the line with the man, your souring mood remedied with the promise of Turkish food.

John's eyes pinch as if trying to sort you out, and then his face drops into a feigned solemnity. "'Fraid so. We'll never be able to return."

"I'm gutted."

"I can tell."

The two of you stand out of the way of the groups loitering outside of the clubs. Alex hovers nearby.

You watch the short lines with a mixture of admiration and worry. It wasn't too long ago you were one of the giggling young women forgoing proper attire to stand in lines to dance and drink. Arms linked with friends, buzzing from the pre-drink, and making eyes at whoever caught your fancy. It's surreal to be back here with John, of all people. He'd look like an ordinary man if he wasn't in a bespoke suit.

A booming voice calls your number, and you retrieve the food. His serving is massive, tricky to transfer.

"I'm starvin'," He mutters, tucking in like a dog gets after a bone.

You, no better, are two big bites into your kebab. You swallow, shielding your mouth with a palm. "I thought you liked dinner. Our first dinner."

John considers you a moment, cheek bulging slightly with a bite. Before he takes another, he smiles sheepishly. "I hate that restaurant."

The admission poleaxes, and you nearly drop the kebab back into its flimsy tray. "But…I saw you absolutely relish that egg dish. With the truffle?"

"I was keeping the sea urchin down."

"That's what that was?" Your stomach twists, suddenly persnickety, recalling the slimy, coral-pink dish preceding the egg and mushrooms. It tasted salty, but you assumed it was another type of shellfish. Mildly scandalized, a bite finds its way to your mouth, but you pause, shy of the target. "If you hate the place, why did you take me there?"

"Thought you might like it."

You snort, wiping the corner of your lips with a disposable napkin. "Well, I didn't," Despite the lightheartedness, a sliver of asperity threads through your tone, and you swipe your tongue over your teeth. "You didn't ask what I like to eat, or where I might want to go for my anniversary date."

"So this is a date."

You glare, thinking how fast Alex might react to you taking a plastic fork to your employer, shelve the twinge in your chest and settle for pointing the prongs accusingly. "You have some nerve, Mr. Price. Taking a young woman, an employee, to dinner without consulting them."

The glint in his eye sharpens in the kaleidoscopic light. "You didn't complain earlier. You didn't ask."

You rapidly lose patience. "Should I ask next time?"

His mouth curls beneath his beard. "Next time?"

That’s it. You pitch the scraps of your food, dab your mouth again, and head for the car. With a huff, you bypass a hesitating Alex and wrench the car door open, your face flaming with embarrassment and irritation. Head of the company or not, he's an ass, deliberately riling you up. When you turn around, mapping the route home in your head, John's broad form cages you between the open door and the car. A quick glance at the American, and Alex turns away, forcing you to focus on the man before you.

"John." You state simply, hoping his name's magic enough a word to compel him to step aside.

"Didn't mean any harm, doll," He rasps lowly, a hair above a whisper. "Thought the place would impress you. I should've asked, I know, but I've made up for it, haven't I?" This close, his eyes appear darker, overcast with how he's backlit.

Lump in your throat, you exhale through your nose and lick your lip, tasting paprika. "I don't appreciate being teased."

John hums. "No?" His eyes switch between yours before giving a nod of understanding. "Noted. Then I'll be direct. I'd like to take you back to mine for a drink, so we can have some privacy," His hand lifts, palm cupping your face, thumb sweeping a cheek. "Get to know each other. Talk."

Talk. Uh-huh.

It's another precipice that every bit of reason in your bones tells you to step back from. Abort, abandon ship – this man is your boss's boss. No, higher than that. A man whose net worth is a question mark in every record you find. A fragmented exasperation comes out in a sigh, more surrender than defeat. As you mused earlier, leaving the man's company is easier said than done.

It's terribly stereotypical – the sleek high rise, the terse doorman, the private lift, all down to the echo of your heels clicking on dark parquet floors leading to his door, the penthouse, naturally.

However, John's home is warmer than you thought it would be for the owner of a company. A mixture of contemporary artwork hangs throughout the foyer, living, and dining area. Designer fixtures and hardware, clean lines melding with traditional pieces, and a color palette trending darker yet somehow rustic. Despite the company's technological bent, you have yet to spot a single smart home device. Whoever he paid to design and furnish his place, you figure they made out like a bandit.

Eyes cast out of floor-to-ceiling windows, you hold a glass of a Grand Cru, a Bordeaux whose name you immediately forget when you clap eyes on the year. The taste of dark cherry and smoke feels like silk and velvet on your tongue, and you savor it. The view's not too bad, either.

"Like it?"

"It'll do."

It's maddening. Going from barely looking the man in the eye in the line for a themed cocktail at a company party to standing in his home, drinking his expensive wine after he's paid for dinner and the purse currently on his dining table. As you take in the skyline, you hold on to that thought. The umpteenth time, you ask yourself, what the shit are you doing here? This is bad. There is no rationalization. The facts are laid bare in your mind: You are younger than him, not indecently so, but enough that your parents and friends would raise a brow. You are his employee and well on the way to breaking half a dozen more rules. You are an average person with bills and debt and stand to benefit from his generosity. You see it coming, the belated realization that hits like a pile of bricks.

The words slip out. Part declaration, part self-reassurance, wholly unformed. "I'm not going to be your…sugar baby, or whatever." You take a swig, fighting a wave of embarrassment.

In the window's reflection, John rocks on his heels. "I didn't think you were. I don't want you to be."

You turn, meeting his gaze when he mirrors you, squinting at the amusement written clearly on his face. "Then why the drinks? The dinner? The purse?"

"You deserve to be rewarded."

"No, no," You insist, shaking your head and lifting a finger. "You don't do this for other employees."

"Who says I haven't?"

"Have you?"

"'Course not."

You snort into the glass and drink deep. "You're impossible. How do you run a company with that attitude?"

John grins wryly in his own glass and ignores the jab. "Mm. Is this you askin' what we're doing here?"

Usually, eye contact is easy. Now, it's a challenge. "I suppose so, yes."

"We're two people enjoying each other's company," John's eyes drag down you shamelessly, ending back on your face with a polite smile as if he didn't blatantly ogle you. "One of whom happens to be in a position to give presents, and possesses the inclination."

It's an intentionally obtuse answer. "You know what that sounds like."

"It bothers you that much? To leave things as they are?"

"'As they are'," You repeat, then venture, "Casual, then?"

John faces you completely, looming. "I prefer to call it friendly."

Your chin lifts. "And you know what human resources would call it?"

"I might have some sway there."

"You'd abuse your power for me?" You scoff.

"I'd do worse, if you asked, sweetheart."

There’s a pause, an opening, and to your surprising delight, John takes it. He leans down for a kiss.

It's a mix of restraint and fervor. John's hand cradles your jaw, deepening the kiss when he realizes you're not running for the exit. His mouth's clearly the dominant player when yours opens without prompting. Any trace of stiffness in your posture melts, and it's a good thing you're holding a half-full glass of wine because you don't know what else it would reach for or where else it would head.

"Get to know each other. Talk," John said. If this is how he wants to get to know you, you accept it, and let him take you to his bedroom.

"This'll wrinkle," John rucks the sheath of your dress up to your waist, fingers appreciatively trailing down your hips until they curve beneath your knees. His eyes follow a similar path, albeit starting from your face.

"I'll bill you for the dry cleaning." You murmur, biting your lip, watching him take in the view. It's intoxicating, the shift in his breathing, the narrowing of his eyes when it reaches the pale gold silk of your thong. It's as sheer as gossamer and carefully stitched with a pretty floral design, the gusset the only solid strip of fabric apart from the band.

The look on his face makes the bit of debt it put you in worth it.

Your smug grin collapses under the crawl of a knuckle down your covered seam, featherlight.

He hums, hands sliding beneath the band. His eyes flick to yours, the blue cloudy with want. His turn to smirk. "This too?"

"John," You warn half-heartedly, knowing what he's actually asking, lift your hips a little, and plant your hands on the bed.

Slowly, John pulls the garment down your legs. A sharp, audible inhale escapes him when his eyes snap to the apex of your thighs, and he tosses the piece of lingerie aside.

John sinks to his knees at the edge of his bed, unhurried, clearly content to observe your sex like it's one of the expensive pieces of art in his living room. His hands return, gliding up your legs to draw circles into the patches of skin on either side of your pussy, smirking again when he hears you gasp. He remains fixated. "Look at you," he purrs, a thumb brushing through the wetness, spreading it deliberately over your clit.

His thumb continues its lazy swipes while his mouth starts kissing a trail up your thighs. You tremble head to toe, anticipation painting everything in a lush haze.

"Fuck," The curse slips out in an aborted hiss you bite back. It's annoying how easily John works you up, his nettling at the food truck to this – he's barely touched you, and speech is suddenly a weakness. Has it been so long since you last saw some action? The brief, scalding memory of your last romp in the sheets plays in your mind. Freshly broken up with, it was a half-baked rebound with a man from a bar you went to alone, stupidly, and took in like a stray dog. Rutted like one, anyway. Come morning, he'd gone, having apparently found the cash in your wallet but not your clit.

A nip brings you back to the present.

"Still with me?"

How many times could you make a rich man doubt himself in one night? Quite the undiscovered talent to discover. "Sorry, yes," You breathe, words working their way out through a shudder, "It's been awhile."

His stroking slows, eyes narrowing at your admission, mouth tracking to its north star.

For a moment, it seems like he might stop or, worse, ask about it. You reach a hand toward him and stop short. "Can you, just–please?"

Without another word, John parts your thighs further apart, fingers digging gently into the sensitive skin. He dips his head lower, warm breath fanning over your pussy. His broad tongue flattens and drags one long lick from your hole to your clit, circling the sensitive bud. He groans, lapping up the first droplets of arousal, huffing your scent with his nose pressing to your curls. One of his hands makes for your ass, holding you in place when you inevitably jerk from the sensation.

His tongue is a wicked thing. Fitting, given his predilection for banter.

You involuntarily cant your hips up to his mouth, his beard scraping. "John!"

His smirk stretches across his lips, and he chuckles. For a second, he pauses. It's deliciously agonizing, the sight of him licking his lip before he returns back between your legs. The delay is long enough to make the next touch of his tongue a pleasant shock.

But he stops again. "Yeah? You want more?" The question is punctuated by a swipe.

You clench at the sheer arrogance in his voice. Maybe you did like being–

"What was that earlier?" His teeth gently, gently rake over your clit. "Something about you not appreciating being teased?" His laugh is downright mean when you practically squeal.

Your face burns, leaning back on an elbow, unable to remain seated with how you shake. "John, please."

Every word laces together with amusement. "Impatient, aren't you? Just want to make this last, sweetheart."

He delves back in, and in the process, he hauls one of your legs over his shoulder. You drop the other arm back to hold yourself up. His hand on your thigh leaves its post to join his efforts, and his middle fingers slide in without preamble - no need, judging by the obscene squelch.

Your head is the next to fall back at an angle, eyes squeezing shut at the slight stretch, hips bucking when he thrusts them shallowly. Gradually pushing deeper, stroking you from the inside out. His tongue makes a slow pass over your seam, licking over where his fingers disappear, and his mouth seals over your clit.

Again, language fails. The incoherent, shattered pleas and curses erupt out of you seem to spur John on. He groans when your cunt tightens its grip on his fingers, the heat in your belly skyrocketing to the peak at a dizzying speed. You know the orgasm will hit hard if it really has been over a year since someone assisted you in reaching one.

"John, please, John," you hurtle towards oblivion, leaving human resources in the dust. You fist his bedding, knuckles flexing, and force yourself to look at him.

John's eyes are open, pupils blown, zeroed in on your face with an intensity that makes you clench once more. He grunts something in response, vaguely encouraging with his big palm on your ass, squeezing and keeping you in place.

When it crests, your back meets the mattress with a cry. John rises slightly to follow your body's momentum, tongue still working fervently, though his fingers stop. He pulls out the digits to grab the ankle of your leg over his shoulder, your own wetness painting over the joint like a brushstroke. He gently removes the limb from its perch, and his mouth slows.

The first hints of overstimulation make you whimper and clumsily reach for the crown of his head, fingers threading through short hair to pull him off.

John detaches himself from your pussy, but not without a few parting kisses.

While you try to gather the pieces of your consciousness flung about, John retracts and stands, rubbing one of your calves. You nearly short-circuit when you meet eyes at last. He's sucking his fingers with the same care he showed at dinner. The first one. He grins.

"My dessert."

You consider chucking his own pillow at his face. The crime of a rich man using a cheap line. It's annoying you still want his cock. You reach for him, fingers hooking around his belt to pull him forward and down, a knee landing between your legs. He ducks his head to meet you halfway for a kiss, your tongue licking over the seam of his mouth, tasting yourself. You kiss and kiss and kiss until your lungs hurt. Now that he's broken your dry spell, it's open season.

Only, he puts a stop to it, pulling back when you unfasten his belt buckle. He cups your face. "I'd rather focus on you right now, sweetheart."

Your eyebrows shoot up to your hairline. "That's not–You don't have to…"

"Hm, I want to see how many times I can make you come tonight." His other hand toys with the thin strap of your dress. "Should get this off you, before I ruin it."

The dress is a lost cause, as with any intention you had of sneaking out in the middle of the night. The dress joins your underwear, and you spend the rest of the evening learning just how generous John Price can be.

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mutable-manifestation · 10 months ago

Text

Actual Scientists Jack & Maddie AU Part 4

Part 1 & 2

Part 3

Explaining The Papers (™) to Frostbite takes a While (also ™).

Though with no more imminent threat of “Vlad maybe finding out he’s the ghost king and becoming Insufferable (also also ™) about it” Danny was feeling a lot less stressed - Sam and Tucker, too, if the fact that they were actually drinking their tea now instead of just barely sipping at it was any indication - or they could’ve only just cooled enough to actually drink, the FF did tend to overestimate the level of heat they could tolerate just a tad.

Not to say that he wasn’t still stressed, given the whole “the Justice League is trying to summon ME” thing. But like. They were reaching out hoping for peace, not hoping to skin/dissect/exterminate him.

Plus they don’t know how to summon him; he figures he has time. Hopefully enough to get Frostbite’s advice.

And mostly to cool his own nerves, because now that he knows they did try to help and are helping the Justice League is Cool again! And they want to meet him!

Well, they want to meet the ghost king, but they already watched him! They thought he was a capable hero!

Danny isn’t really used to getting positive feedback, so being called “good hands” by Superman - Superman! The hero! The Alien hero! (well, one of them. Martian Manhunter is also amazing but he hasn’t complimented Danny in person yet so he doesn’t have any expectations for Danny to live up to. Maybe. Hypothetically).

The JL is so cool and they think he’s cool! Or at least capable! Except now he has to impress them not just as a hero but as a king?

Yeah.

Suffice to say, Danny is now a little nervous.

(And also maybe redirecting his nerves intentionally to be about the JL so he doesn’t have to breathe into a bag about being probably the only thing between the Zone and eventual total dimensional collapse because Frostbite was very ‘this is normal and okay’ about it but it’s eventual total dimensional collapse [ALL OF THEM] and it is Danny’s problem. But no, he’s just nervous about meeting the JL. Totally.)

Reciting pretty much his whole life story - well, the basics of his parents’ work and then pretty much everything from the portal onward - gives him time to untense, and honestly, getting it all out to a mostly uninvolved third party - one he likes and trusts - really is a weight off his shoulders.

He’ll never tell Jazz; the amount of I-told-you-so-energy she’d leech into the air would be unbearable.

Sam and Tucker tag in here and there too, and mostly take over when they get to the part where the GIW bought Fenton Works for a short while to try and destroy the zone. Danny winces at the memory of his behavior back then.

The explanation runs for longer than it could have, given the aside they make when they get to his parents’ theories.

Frostbite is quick to confirm the combat-as-a-positive-social-behavior thing, and it turns out Sam is right about how to tell the difference.

Of course, Danny thinks they were all trying to kill him the rest of the way, but then that’s not a concern most ghosts have, so Frostbite offers his own perspective.

Skulker wants to hang his pelt on a wall: clearly unfriendly.

Technus is just having fun - enjoying playing with new technology in the living realm and throwing Danny around/being thrown around. He’s a friend. The whole world domination idea isn’t malicious as far as he’s concerned, because damage to the living realm doesn’t mean much to ghosts. What do they care about the living? What is the value of a single world as collateral when weighed against the games of ghosts?

If Danny wants him to stop that, Frostbite tells him, he can just propose a new game.

Ember genuinely just wanted a powerboost from the Earth that first time, but her returns since are a gesture of friendship.

Spectra definitely hates him though. Which is good. He wouldn’t know how to feel if Frostbite had said that that whole mess was an attempt at friendship.

As for the thing with his parents, Frostbite compares it to winning a tournament only to find out the other participants lost intentionally. You haven’t really won a competition if the competitors were not competing.

Like going in for a handshake only to get a “too slow” - even more insulting if it’s the first “too slow” you’ve ever gotten - Tucker suggests.

Or like asking a parent to a hug and only getting a wave. Not even a high-five.

They each go through another three cups of tea before the story winds down, Frostbite doing adding little more than the occasional nod or noise of acknowledgement - barring the social combat explanation, of course.

It’s nice, Danny thinks, to have an adult that actually listens. Even if said adult is a dead yeti.

“You have given me much to think on Great One, Friends Sam and Tucker,” he says after the three of them finally run out of words, giving each of them a nod. “And soon, we shall have much more to discuss. First, however, it seems that I have a meeting to call. And you have living needs that require attending to yet. Eat, rest, and, if you would, return here… let’s say the day after tomorrow? Then we can begin to discuss the…issues. At hand.”

Back in the Specter Speeder, Tucker wonders aloud if “call a meeting” is code for yelling at the Observants.

Then he looks at his PDA and realizes how late it’s gotten - namely, past all of their curfews - and they promptly turn the conversation to getting their story straight (and three backups because they’re all feeling paranoid with how high-stakes everything suddenly became. Not that the occasional ghost looking to wreck earth wasn't already high-stakes, but the whole political aspect made it feel... different).

***

Danny is thankful it’s summer vacation at the moment, because the next morning is a Monday.

He doesn’t know how he’d manage school with his mind miles away wondering about things like “how to king” and “how to maintain the fabric of reality” and other totally normal, non-stressful topics.

Just normal high schooler things.

His parents are gone before he’s even up, leaving a note for him and Jazz on the kitchen table.

They eat a quiet breakfast together.

The whole house is quiet. It’s unnatural, he thinks, and the small frown on Jazz’ face tells him she feels the same.

They normally enjoy the brief lulls of quiet that their parents leave behind, but this is perhaps the first time they’ve ever missed breakfast - well, the first time they haven’t been in the house during breakfast at least. A welding torch, clanging metal, clinking glass, minor explosions, and excited shouting is the usual background noise of their morning meal - whether from the basement door or at the table itself.

This time, the silence is disquieting.

Even more so since it means that Danny could, at any time, be teleported somewhere. He really should have asked Frostbite about how that works before they left - they’d already missed curfew anyway.

After they’ve both finished eating, he takes the opportunity to fill Jazz in on the whole… everything.

She is, to put it lightly, Not Impressed.

“-s bad enough they let you fight Pariah Dark in the first place! You should never have been in that position! I know that you’re a capable fighter Danny, but you’re fourteen-”

“I’m almost fifteen,” he grumbles.

“You’re not yet fifteen,” she says, glaring into the distance, expression practically snarling. Danny thinks she might be imagining strangling an Observant, based on the… choice words she’d had for them earlier. “And they want you to be a king!”

Tucker chooses that moment to arrive, walking right into the path of where Jazz is glaring and freezing until Sam shoves him out of her way to close the door and drag him into the kitchen.

“Who spat in your cereal?” she asks, moving to sit and kicking the fourth chair out for Tucker.

“Whoever or whatever is responsible for deciding that a fourteen year old child should be king when there are no doubt numerous thousand-plus year old candidates who don’t have human lives they still need to attend to!” She bellows, throwing her hands up in frustration.

The trio exchange a glance while she takes a few calming breaths.

Danny kind of wants to point out that he isn’t a child, he’s a teenager. And she’s barely older than him.

But he does have some sense of self-preservation, even if there’s only so much self left to preserve. Heh.

Then she gasps.

“Danny! You’re still half alive!”

“Er, yes?”

“Maybe that’s why the Watching Wraiths didn’t say anything! Maybe you can’t be the Ghost King if you’re still partly alive!”

“But Frostbite said-” Tucker starts, only to be cut off by Jazz.

“Frostbite could be wrong.” She sniffs. “And even if he isn’t you there are millenia before it becomes a problem. The Zone can wait for you to graduate high school before it goes demanding things of you. Or longer.”

The words are decisive.

Still….

“The Justice League-”

“Can cope. They’ll be a little paranoid about retaliation, but a little paranoia won’t kill them. And maybe letting them stew a bit will teach them to be more active about taking down genocidal organizations before they hurt so many people.”

“That’s a great idea,” Sam says, tone saying the opposite, “except the part where they’re actively working on figuring out how to summon the ghost king - who is Danny - and are probably also going to try and make contact with Phantom at some point - who is also Danny.”

Jazz frowns.

“Well. You don’t have to be a king to talk to the Justice League. Just tell them you’re still too young - which is true - or that the coronation is going to take a long time to plan - which, according to Frostbite, would be a reasonable claim. And also true since you will not be taking the throne until you are at least 18 if the Fenton Peeler and I have anything to say about it.”

“Uh. I don’t know if the Peeler is the best idea. With your…aim.” Tucker cringes, shrinking back in his seat when her unhappy frown snaps to him.

Then she looks thoughtful.

“You know what. I’ll just use a specter deflector. You mentioned before how humans are ghosts in the ghosts zone; see if they still feel like making a child a king when they’ve got an unstrikable target punching their lights out about it.”

“Please don’t antagonize a bunch of ghosts who could try and attack you while you're sleeping,” Danny pleads.

“It’s bad enough that all this has impacted your sleep and grades and attendance records so much; I’m not going to let a bunch of ghost nobles - or whatever they’re called - mess things up for you even more. If they don’t like my proposals they can un-friendly fight me about it, and if you’re worried about retribution I can turn on the house defenses in my room when I sleep. But I am not letting this go.”

She stands.

“Since he didn’t give you a time, we’ll leave to visit Frostbite after breakfast tomorrow-”

“We?” the trio ask hesitantly.

“Of course. But for now, there’s something else we need to do, little brother.”

That said, she turns and heads for the basement.

Danny and Tucker blink at the abrupt departure, while Sam just frowns thoughtfully.

The three exchange one more meaningful glance, before sharing a shrug and moving to follow her.

They arrive in the basement to Fenton Fighting Ring rising out of the floor.

“Uh, Jazz?” Danny tries.

“We’re going to fight!”

In stark contrast to both her words and her furious demeanor upstairs, her tone and expression are bright and eager.

“Um. That’s. Nice, but you know that’s a ghost thing, right?” he offers hesitantly.

“I mean, I still fight with Dora,” Sam adds, the traitor.

“Thank you Sam,” Jazz starts. “But even without that example; you are part ghost, brother mine. That means fighting loved ones is a you thing. I love you, so of course I’m going to fight you.”

“Mom and Dad theorized - and Frostbite confirmed - that the fighting is a social behavior. Many social behaviors are also needs. Members of social species that are not allowed to socialize become stressed and their health worsens. Humans who don’t communicate with other humans for too long experience negative side effects, too little physical contact can lead to depressed mood and so forth,” she monologues as she moves into the ring.

“As you’re still half human, neglecting the social needs of your ghost half could negatively impact your wellbeing. Also. I’m your sister and I love you. If I could never hug you I’d be bummed. This is like the ghost equivalent of that. So. Square up, little brother.”

Danny is kind of touched, actually.

Still.

“...Don’t you at least want an anti-creep stick?” he asks, gesturing at her general lack of ghost gear as he slips intangibly through the ropes around the ring.

“Nope!” She says cheerfully. “For this match we’ll be doing no powers and no weapons - just basic human strength and skill. We can try other kinds of fights later.”

Danny pales.

“No way! You’re a 4th degree black belt!”

“9th!” she corrects, still cheerfully - and she clearly means well, but for Danny that smile is beginning to look like an omen of ill fortune.

“That’s even worse!” he cries. “I’m only a blue belt! Barely!”

“I ~told~ you you should’ve stuck with mom’s training,” she sing-songs teasingly.

He cringes, but takes a stance.

“Now let's see how much you remember.”

That’s the only warning he gets before she’s in his face.

His strength, speed, stamina, endurance, and durability are all completely back to baseline in human form unless he actively uses his flight to compensate, but one thing he notes as the fight draws on is that his reaction speed is still the same.

Even so, it’s painfully obvious just how beyond him she is in terms of skill.

Without any powers to fall back on, Jazz runs circles around him like it’s nothing.

His reaction speed means that he sees everything she’s doing and that he has time to bring his arms up, but he keeps lagging trying to recall forms and getting shoved around for it, the defenses he manages too poor to be of any use.

Other times he lags because he’s suppressing instinctual power usage.

And multiple times he accidentally, instinctively abandons proper stance all together, habitually falling into the stance of his usual “feral racoon” style of fighting - as Jazz had one called it - which isn’t much of a stance at all in a fight with no powers. Especially given how it's not made for someone fighting on the ground. She takes brutal advantage of every opening.

He’s on the back foot from the first second of the fight, and it’s obvious that it only lasted for longer than one because Jazz allowed it to, testing him.

It’s frustrating that he’s doing so poorly - he knows he’s doing poorly - but despite that, he really is having fun.

It reminds him of the training spars at the Far Frozen - restrained skill set, fight with defined boundaries and win conditions-

Aaaaand evidently he let his mind wander too much.

And Jazz noticed.

And flipped him.

He’s thoroughly pinned in short order and he cannot for the life of him remember how to escape the hold short of cheating with intangibility.

“Uncle,” he calls.

Jazz pulls him to his feet and ruffles his hair.

He squawks indignantly, but she just chuckles.

"Good fight little brother," she calls as she slips between the ropes out of the ring.

"Our hero," Sam drawls as he follows.

Danny just pouts.

"That was just sad, man," Tucker ribs. "And I thought your early ghost fights were bad."

"I'd like to you do better against the 9th degree blackbelt," he grumbles.

"Don't fret, little brother. You'll improve with time," Jazz says as she rejoins them. "Though we'll have to do refreshers of all the previous levels first, given the amount of skill degradation I just saw. But with regular practice you'll back to your previous level and more in no time!"

"Uh. Refreshers?"

"Of course!"

"That seems a bit overkill just for sparring. Couldn't you just...wear a specter deflector or something? Then I can just not use karate."

Jazz, for the first time in a long time, levels him with a very serious look.

"You said that the reason Frostbite can't be the king instead is because he can't beat you in an all out fight. You told me the alternative."

She grabs him by the shoulders and stares into his eyes.

"Danny, Vlad already made a way to shut you away from your ghost powers. Frostbite may be unwilling to end you, and I don't think Vlad would. But you and I both know there are ghosts out there who would destroy you in a heartbeat for that power. And if Vlad has that kind of device, someone else could get one too. Ecto-weapons can give you a leg up if you get sealed away from your ghost powers, but you'll also need the skill to use them successfuly."

She lets go and steps back, tilting her head thoughtfully.

"Even with the ghost powers it's probably a good idea; the crown and ring might power you up but so did the exoskeleton. Clearly they aren’t the only power-ups out there so you can’t rely on strength alone. Skill could be the determining factor one day. And you already said you had fun," she smiles. "Come on little brother, give in to the karate side."

He grimaces.

"Didn't you say you were gonna make the royalty thing a non-issue for like three more years at least," he whines, slumping dramatically.

She raises a brow.

"A blackbelt isn't made in a day."

"Ugh, fine."

He's actually looking forward to it, but Jazz doesn't need to know that. He's duty-bound as a brother to be as annoyingly contrary about sibling bonding as possible, after all.

When Sam asks if they'll teach her and Tucker as well, Jazz is all too happy to include them - best not to have only one sparring partner, avoid forming bad habits and all that.

Both girls dutifully ignore Tucker's protests while they hash out a schedule. Danny pats his shoulder consolingly.

#dpxdc

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starillusion13 · 1 year ago

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Imagine your friends!NCT are secretly mafias, falling in love with you…

[I’m doing with my bias line so if your bias is missing means they are my bias wreckers and as am being ot23(I will always be their supporter so don’t expect I love any of the members less) please read the end note.]

Remember this is my top bias line:

Lee Taeyong

Being the leader of the biggest mafia gang, NCT he is very passionate about his life. Never for once he thought of getting you in his life. An innocent but suicidal girl but also a very daring girl. He is attracted to you because of your multiple personalities and this is the reason he finds you different from other girls. He is good at pretending that he is not getting attracted to you day by day or simply he is deeply in love with you. But what about you? No one knows as you are just friends with him, a very close one. It’s a very simple story. But the problem is that you are only familiar with mafias in story book but you don’t know the dark secrets of your cute and handsome friend, Lee Taeyong.

Kim Doyoung

Your most caring friend who literally takes care of you like an older brother but he has made it clear not to call him your brother. He treats you more than you ever need. He takes you on luxury friendly dates when Taeyong(his bestfriend) is busy or that man would not leave his chance to tag along( you are afterall spending his money even with Doyoung). His gummy smile is everything you need before going to work. Those gummy smiles hide the devilish smirk when he is torturing his victim brutally and his sharp eyes watching the helpless condition of them. But to you, he can heal your every pain as a true friend.

Jung Jaehyun

the most charming guy you have ever met. Anyone would want him as their boyfriend including you but you bet he has girlfriend as you feel he hides things from you and that can be possible if it’s his gf. Once late at night you came across him on the streets and you thought him as any celebrity and that’s how your friendship began. He has the show-off attitude and would always buy you costly dresses, jewelry and other accessories and urge you to wear them on friendly dates and workplace. He has this possessiveness in his every move and words as if he owns you. He is a loyal NCT mafia member who has swear not to get distract by anything but why he is losing his mind for you.

Lee Mark

the sweetest and the most innocent guy. You feel this urge to protect this silly boy from this cruel world. Cruel world? He is a walking devil with a facade of innocence. His silly speech, his innocent heartily laughs and his securing embrace is like alluring you to trust him with your whole. But it’s a trap to keep you close. You don’t know how his awkward behaviors in front of you are just the opposite when he plants bullets in his enemy’s head and throat. His soft big and innocent eyes are the dangerous hell-hole for his victims.

Lee Jeno

well, you doubt him as a gangster sometimes because of his physique and personality. But He can’t be because next moment he is giving off his eye smile melting your heart along with his sweet gestures. A perfect soft boyfriend with some dominating aura. He likes to order you around like those are simple and sweet but somehow he has that controlling attitude. His helpless and worried expression if you are hurt for some reason is just the opposite from the one when he makes sure to burn the victim or bury it 6-feet under and his eyes burning with the rage of revenge, nowhere to be seen those cute eyes looking at you in awe and adoration.

Lee Haechan

a playful menace. You question sometimes why you are being friends with him in first place. His teasings are out of hand and loses your mind but the next moment he is the dearest friend to you. But you have fun with him in sleepovers, sneaking out for late night long drives playing ‘Highway to Heaven’ and he sings along the song’s bridge, his fav part ‘oh she’s so bad, I’ll make it last’ and looks at you in your eyes. Even behind his mischievousness, there is a lover boy. He cuddles you to comfort and a perfect bestfriend and you are thankful for such a nice friend. But you don’t know that the annoying boy with heavenly vocals is a hacker of the ruthless mafia gang, NCT.

Na Jaemin

a total cat person. He even has an insta account for his cats and mentioned himself as their father and you as their mother. A boy with heart on his sleeves and he doesn’t let a moment to fall in vain without making you blush. A family man and not gonna lie you have a little crush on him. His endearments and sweet gestures always make you feel like that you are a couple and sometimes some people even assume it. Even if you deny it, he proudly smiles and agrees with them. But this sweet Angel boy is the devil who can shoot someone and bury them in a stance and then act like he tugged his cats in bed to sleep.

I’m writing such above things just casually because even if it’s late at night yet am not feeling sleepy😭 actually I was preparing a NCT! Mafia draft so felt like sharing some imagines. If you guys need any particular member imagine then you can send me asks(also Yuta Lucas Renjun Ten Yangyang and Kun are also in my bias list tho🥹)

Should I make a NCT! Mafia series with my bias line x reader? Of course after finishing ‘Like We Just Met’?

Perma Taglist: @mymoodwriting @justhere4kpop @anyamaris @yeoobin @icchyi @jwnghyuns @piratequeen-queenofgames @dinonuguaegi @oreharuuu @hwanring @sanwifesstuff @kiwiisnthereoops @kiwiraccoon [open!]

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cressidagrey · 4 months ago

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Romance is not dead if you keep it just yours- Chapter 5: Hyacinth, Florist

Summary:

5 Times Cassian thought that Azriel had feelings for somebody and then 1 time he finally met the girl his brother was in love with.

Warnings:

Rhys Bashing

Notes:

I put a lot of world building into this. If you don't recognise it from canon, I probably invented. Or I forgot that canon existed.

(thanks to @firefly-graphics for the super pretty dividers!)

Azriel showed up bright and early the day after his break ended. For a week Cassian had heard not even a peep from Azriel.

And then Azriel walked into the House of Wind, looking none the worse for wear.

“How was your break?” Cassian asked him, taking him in. Looking no different than he ever had before. Though not relaxed. The exact opposite to be honest.

“Can we spar?” Azriel asked in response and Cassian’s brows rose.

Ouch. That break had seemingly not gone that well.

“That bad, hm?” he asked, though just nodded towards the sparring ring. “How’s your Ma?” he asked and Azriel just stared at him.

“She’s as good as she can get,” he snapped back. Right.

His expression must have shown his shock, because Azriel held still for a moment, seemingly forcing himself to take a deep breath, closing his eyes for just a moment...

“ I am in a mood,” Azriel warned him, finally. “Don’t go easy on me.”

“I wasn’t aware that I ever did,” Cassian quipped.

He should have probably taken that warning more seriously.

He didn’t.

Azriel nearly had him tapping out within the first few minutes.

There was an aggression behind his fighting that Cassian had only seen very rarely. An aggression that belied Azriel just “being in a mood”.

This wasn’t just being in a mood.

This was feral levels of aggression. This was being so upset that Azriel needed to hit something to get it out and clearly Cassian was that something of choice that day.

Azriel won. Of course, he did. he wanted it far more than Cassian did.

“You broke my fucking nose,” he complained afterwards, spitting out the blood. The nose was thankfully the only broken bone. Though he was definitely gonna feel the bruises for a few days.

Azriel seemed on a more even keel though, so Cassian would gladly take the broken nose.

“I am sorry,” Azriel apologised earnestly.

And that was that.

Az seemed back to his usual levels of weirdness, no longer randomly wanting his first break after 500 years, no more comments about table linens…and sometimes Cassian even thought that he caught his brother smiling softly, pleased at something.

He didn’t say anything but he couldn’t help but wonder.

Still, Cassian had more pressing problems. Like what he should buy Nesta for her birthday…Mor decided to tag along which was decisively unhelpful. How could a female who clearly liked shopping for herself be so completely horrible at choosing gifts for her family?

“Wait, is that Az?” Mor said suddenly as they left another shop empty-handed. Cassian’s head swivelled around.

And it was indeed Az, standing around at a flower cart, clearly chatting to the owner.

By the cauldron, had Cassian been right all along?!?

Mor and him exchanged a glance, both of them narrowing down to their brother just a few feet away from him.

“Which flowers?” Azriel asked at that moment, clearly contemplating two different bouquets. The female on the other side of the card was pretty, delicate with fluttering wings resembling a butterfly, and bright blue hair that was cropped close to her head.

A Palote Fairy. Clearly far from home in the summer court.

Maybe that was why Azriel had been keeping her a secret. Maybe it was some unfounded worry of her being a lesser fairie.

Did Az and her take long leisurely flights over Velaris and go picnicking? Somehow that seemed like the kind of thing she would enjoy. Their children would probably end up being the most magical thing that Cassian had ever seen. He wondered what wings would turn out to be the dominant ones. The idea of an Illyrian with butterfly wings was definitely something, that much was certain.

“Jasmine these days. She hasn’t talked about anything since you bought them the first time,” said butterfly girl told Azriel, smiling prettily at him.

Cassian held back a noise that Mor would have never let him life down. Something akin to a squeal threatened to come out of his throat.

Was this the female Azriel was stupidly in love with?

She clearly seemed to be nice enough not to turn down his advances flat out, instead both of them happily chatting.

“Thank you, Hyacinth,” Azriel thanked her as Hyacinth , which must be her name started wrapping a bundle of dark blooming jasmines for him. He handed her a couple of coins, as she gave him the flowers, not for one moment flinching away from his scars.

“Will you be there on Friday?” Hyacinth asked him, excitement apparent in her voice.

Where are they going to have a date?

“I have been told that my attendance is mandatory. Because I need to learn how to swing my hips like a proper male,” Azriel responded, his usual dry humour apparent. Cassian could still only stare.

They were going to have a date!

“You’ll have a fantastic teacher,” Hyacinth said with a wink.

“Oh, I expect nothing less,” Azriel agreed.

A fantastic teacher. Was Hyacinth going to be the teacher?

Mor dragged Cassian along with a hand on his arm, calling for Azriel. “Az!”

“Mor. Cassian,” Azriel greeted them, not seeming surprised at all at their sudden appearance. Nor particularly displeased about it or hesitant.

“Don’t you want to introduce us to your girlfriend?” Mor said, sounding giddy as they arrived at Azriel’s side.

Yes, Azriel, introduce us to your girlfriend, Cass mentally agreed unable to keep the bright grin off his face.

What he hadn’t expected was for the blue-haired female to burst into laughter.

“ Hyacinth is married,” Azriel said drily. “And definitely not my girlfriend.”

And Cassian’s hopes were shattered once again.

“I am very much spoken for. He is too,” Hyacinth responded, still trying to starve down the laughter, and failing horribly.

Damnit.

“What brings you two here?” Azriel asked, still holding onto his flower bouquet.

“Well, Cassian needs help with a gift for Nesta,” Mor said brightly. “I offered my help.”

Azriel stared at him like Cassian had grown a second head.

Quite frankly, it was understandable.

But Mor had offered her input and he hadn’t been able to politely turn her down.

“What’s in that bag?” Azriel asked, nodding to the one lone shopping back that Cassian held, sounding like he didn’t want to know.

“Well…” Cassian started but Azriel just shook his head.

“You know what, I don’t want to know. Come on,” he said drily, the flowers disappearing from his hand, being whisked away by his shadows somewhere. “I’ll see you on Friday, Hyacinth!” He called over his shoulder, Hyacinth waving them off the ring to the next customer.

“Where are we going?” He dared to ask, trailing after Azriel, who walked around the Rainbow like he knew every cobblestone personally. Maybe he did. Goodness knew what Azriel’s shadows got up to when they weren’t busy spying for Rhys.

“We’ll buy Nesta a proper birthday gift,” Azriel said with a roll of his eyes.

Mor stopped at a clothing store, staring at a dress in the window. “I’ll catch up with you!” she said brightly and off she went, leaving Cassian with this gift debacle.

“Mor, really?” Azriel asked with a sigh as soon as she had entered the store.

“Who else was I supposed to ask?” Cassian gave back defensively.

“Feyre? Elain? Emerie? Gwyn? Rhys?” Azriel suggested drily. “Hell, Amren would have been better.” He muttered under his breath.

Azriel stopped at a smaller store, the dark blue signage proclaiming it an understated “ The Goldmine”.

He had never even noticed the shop when he had been in the Rainbow, though a giggling group of young High Faes was leaving it.

Clearly, it was well-liked in the community.

Azriel pushed open the door, waving him through.

“Good Morning,” Azriel greeted the High Fae at the counter, a rounded female with green eyes, a pale complexion, and curly light brown hair. She was very pretty in an unassuming way and greeted Azriel wide-eyed.

The Goldmine was clearly a jewellery shop, with merchandise laid out in the glass cases on the walls and in the middle of the room.

Cassian was already feeling slightly overwhelmed and he hadn’t even been asked to pick out anything yet.

“Oh, I am so sorry, she isn’t there currently,” the High Fae blurted out, blushing as soon as she saw Azriel.

“I know,” Azriel agreed, looking not surprised in the least. Cassian wondered who they were talking about. “She’s out shopping with Briony. But that’s not why I am here.” That also didn’t answer any of the questions he was having. “Cassian, that’s Penelope,” Azriel introduced Cassian. “Penelope, Cassian, my brother. Cassian needs a birthday gift for his mate,” Azriel explained patiently. Cassian approached the counter that Azriel was leaning against with some trepidation.

“It’s nice to meet you,” Penelope greeted him. “What does your mate like to wear as jewellery?” She asked, all business and Cassian drew a blank.

He could write whole books about what Nesta liked and disliked. He could.

But right now, he had no idea.

“Hairpins that double as Stiletto Blades,” he blurted out. Penelope stared at him, green eyes wide.

“We…We don’t really sell that?” she offered up hesitantly, while Azriel next to him was silently shaking with laughter before he swallowed it down and decided to be helpful.

“You had new hair combs coming in, didn’t you?” Azriel asked and for one moment Cassian wondered why Azriel knew what kind of new shipments a jewellery store got.

“We did!” Penelope agreed immediately, pulling out a tray from behind the counter.

Cassian heard the bell ring behind him, and Azriel waved off Penelope apologising as she started to take care of the newest customer.

Instead, he took the tray and pushed it in Cassian’s direction.

“How am I supposed to pick?” he asked with no small amount of trepidation at the dozen choices laid out before him. Every style imagination, in gold and silver and whatever other metal there were there.

“Pick one that reminds you of Nesta,” Azriel said easily. “And if you only like the shape of one, the gems can be easily changed out,” Azriel assured him, as he picked up one comb, turning it around in scarred hands.

Cassian went back to staring at the hair combs.

Every single one of them was a separate work of art. Some more intricate than others. Some with careful engravings, some set with stones, others letting the metal do the talking. He didn’t dare to touch them, even when Azriel carefully turned them in his hands and checked them over.

“This is moonstone and yellow gold,” Azriel explained softly as he pointed out one with a row of milky-white stones set in yellow gold. “This is amber. Probably from the beaches of Summer Court…This is white opal,” he said as he pointed out another two.

Cassian’s gaze kept being pulled back to intricate designs with swirls set in diamonds and some kind of red stone, too dark to be ruby. Azriel followed his gaze.

“You could have the garnets replaced with your siphons,” he suggested evenly.

“They can do that?” Cassian asked surprised and Azriel gave a soft smile.

“Of course.”

“How did you find this place?” Cassian asked curiously. This wasn’t…Azriel had never worn any kind of jewellery. or at least none that Cassian had ever seen…Azriel picked out the comb that Cassian had picked, turning it over in his hands…and for the first time Cassian saw a thin bracelet stretching over his wrist. It was so black that it would would easily sink into the black of his fighting leathers, so of course that would have made sure that Cassian didn’t notice it. But right now Az wasn’t wearing fighting leathers but a simple dark shirt, and so it stood out more against his skin.

“I know the owner,” Azriel answered the question, his voice quiet. His scent changed suddenly, to Cassian’s surprise from contentment to happiness.

“Did you ever buy anything from here?” he asked and Azriel hummed.

“Of sorts.”

“How can you buy something from sorts?” Cassian wondered. How did that even work?

“If the person doesn’t let you pay in money, does that count as buying?” Azriel gave back with a shrug.

What? “How else would you pay?” Cassian asked. How?

“I get a special discount,” Azriel told him sagely.

“For what?” Cassian asked and then his jaw dropped when…suddenly it…Was Azriel paying for whatever he bought with sex?

His brother hit him on the back of his head with zero hesitation.

“Not that ,” Azriel told him drily.

“I didn’t say anything!” Cassian snapped.

"It was written all over your face," Azriel replied, rolling his eyes. “I know the owner. That’s why I get a special discount.”

Fine.

Still, the hair comb was a way better gift than anything that anything he had come up with lately, so he thanked his brother for that.

“Thank you.”

“Of course,” Azriel responded easily.

Cassian should just really give up trying to figure out who was Azriel’s special somebody. He was never going to get it right.

#Azriel Fanfiction #azriel fanfic #acotar fanfiction #my writing #azriel x reader #azriel x oc #Romance is not dead if you keep it just yours #A Court of Gold and Shadows

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miss-eli-starfleet · 7 months ago

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Okay. This post is gonna be about Bart Allen, and all the Thawne-Allen stuff.

Tagged bc we both love Bart’s Thawne Allen problem: @themaybewoman

This is what I’ve gathered so far about his existence is hopefully comic accurate, but maybe not continuity accurate:

It starts with Iris West. Apparently, it’s recently revealed to me (today) that this girl is actually from the 31st century. Because of the semi-dystopian era of her birth, her real parents sent her back in time to the 21st century to keep her safe. She was adopted by the Wests, but she doesn’t know her future origins until later on.

She meets Barry as a news reporter, and they marry. When they were thinking about having kids, Reverse Flash/Eobard Thawne comes along and murders her because his likes to make Barry’s life as miserable as possible. But because she’s from the future, her parents found some magic comic book science to “revive” her, thus placing her in the 31st century to live her life.

Barry finds out she’s alive in the future, and basically goes into retirement to live with her in the 31st century. He passes the mantle of The Flash to Wally West. Why he doesn’t just get her and bring her back to the 21st century, I’ll never know. Or he just wanted her to be with her real parents (which i would assume she barely knows lol).

I was trying so hard to find out why Barry decided to raise their children in the 31st century, but we have our answer there. Iris is future girl. Their children, Don and Dawn Allen, later operates as the Tornado Twins much like Barry did as the Flash. In Central City, I’m assuming. There was some clashing with the Legion of Superheroes, basically the 31st century’s version of the Justice League, but whatever. Not really important to Bart’s existence.

Dawn Allen marries Jeven Ognats. They have a daughter named Jenni Ognats, who later joins the Legion of Superheroes as XS. Jenni is Bart’s cousin.

Don Allen marries Meloni Thawne, and that’s where this gets more complicated.

Meloni Thawne is the daughter of Earthgov President Thaddeus Thawne, who irrc is a direct descendant of Eobard Thawne. When President Thawne learned of this marriage, the dude’s pissed because the Thawne-Allen feud is still on in his mind. He disowns his daughter, indirectly has the Tornado Twins killed via Dominators, and then kidnaps Bart.

Idk where Barry is in all this, maybe he went into the Speedforce and just chilled there through all this?

Now Bart had this hyper-accelerated aging thing going on as a side effect of being born a speedster (I think). Like nearly a teen by two yrs I think. Thawne grandfather stuck him in this VR so he can grow up “normally”, intending to make him a living weapon against the Flashfam. I’m pretty sure Meloni was locked up or something during that period of time too? Otherwise she would’ve done something about this.

Iris kidnaps Bart, and takes him to the 21st century via the Flash Museum’s Cosmic Treadmill (how they used that idk), hoping that Bart would have Wally West as a mentor. Instead, Wally ditches him to Max Mercury to be trained, and it plays on his low self esteem. Wally was pretty mean to him at some times, like when he gets recruited for the Teen Titans as Kid Flash.

But, hey, Wally did run him around the world fast enough to fix his accelerated aging problem.

Anyways, he gets some visits from his other cousin, Jenni, and his mom in the Impulse 1995 series, which was so fun to read. It was so cool to read them talking to each other in Interlac he Max being all confused.

This all makes me wonder: was Meloni ever Don’s lightning rod? As to Iris is Barry’s lightning rod?

#POV: you marry the daughter of the man who rlly hates you #POV: you suddenly find you’re actually from the future and then die and then get revived there #dc #dc comics #the flash #barry allen #bart allen #impulse #dc universe #kid flash #young justice #Wally west #someone correct me if I’m wrong about any of this #I was just trying to figure out why tf the tornado twins were being raised in the 31st century #POV: you’re the grandson of two rival families and they fight over you #speedforce #speedsters

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theoldsecretkeeper · 30 days ago

Note

"I AM THE SAND GUARDIAN, GUARDIAN OF THE SAND!" {Dom}

"POSEIDON QUIVERS BEFORE HIM!!!"

Dom. Dom, you see what the hell you did to this guardian angel??? DOM YOU SEE HOW YOU FUCKED HER HUMOR MORE?! DOM YOU DO REALIZE THAT RIGHT?!? Shes giggling like a mad lad

#what in the world is his problem | dominic tag #i'll keep you safe. . . | guardian angel verse #the eye answers | ic answers #SHES HAVING FUN HDHDHDHD #I love that stupid vine. i really do hfhdhd

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holylulusworld · 1 year ago

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Caring

Summary: Walter has a bad day, and you comfort him.

Pairing: Walter Marshall x fem!Reader

Warnings: dom/sub relationship, heavy daddy kink, tired/grumpy Walter, cuddling & snuggling, caretaker Walter, fluff, implied smut, a hint of breeding kink

Sequel to Craving

Walter is done for the day.

Another victim was found. A young girl barely elder than his beloved daughter Faye. He’s furious as the two suspects he and his partners interrogated for the last four hours didn’t say a single word.

His colleagues will take over the next few hours to give Walter the chance to have a few hours of sleep.

He takes deep breaths to calm down. Walter doesn’t want to bring the problems and anger home. He rolls his shoulders, cracks his neck, and closes his eyes to remember you are waiting inside his home to give him a little light back.

He wanted you to move in with him after the last murderers almost killed his colleague, Rachel. He’s even more protective over you since then. If possible, he’d keep you locked away in his house to protect you every hour of the day.

“Baby you’re home,” you smile when Walter finally enters your shared home. He looks tired, and his posture tells you something must’ve happened at work. Something really bad. “What do you need, Daddy?”

You immediately lower your gaze to let Walter decide what he needs tonight.

“Only a few hours of sleep, Y/N.” He drops his keys and purse carelessly onto the table.

Watching Walter take off his jacket and you frown. He’s still wearing his shoulder holster and his gun.

“You know the rules, Walter,” you tut as he takes his gun out of the holster. “No weapons around me.”

“I know,” he grumbles but put his gun back inside the holster. “Give me a few minutes to put it away. I’m sorry.”

Your tall boyfriend looks like a scolded child. So unlike the dominant man he can be for you. “It’s okay, baby. You forgot about the rules for a moment, that’s not the end of the world. If you have freshened up, dinner is waiting for you.”

Walter smiles for a moment. His eyes drop to your middle, and he wonders if he already fulfilled his promise and got you pregnant.

“I’ll be right there, Y/N.”

Walter tries to hide he’s in a bad mood again. The current case keeps him on his toes, and he hates bringing these kinds of problems home.

“I made your favorite,” you softly say, and place a plate in front of him. You press a soft kiss on his cheek, lips lingering. “Eat up. You’ll need it. You’re working so hard.”

He looks at the plate filled with his favorite meal. Walter smirks as you hover over him like a mother hen. “It looks deliciously, baby.”

Your cheeks heat up at his praise. “All for you, Walter.”

“Do you feel better?” You curl in Walter's side. “Do you want to talk about it?”

“Difficult case. We know they did it, but we just can’t prove it yet,” Walter rumbles. He hates worrying you. It’s the last thing he wants to do.

“I know you will get them, Walter. You’re smart, strong, and will not give up until they end up in jail.” You snuggle in his chest. “That’s what I love about you. You never give up.”

He smiles for a moment.

“I love you for being my cheerleader,” Walter laughs when you sit up to look at him. You lick your lips, and hum. “It’s late, kitten. You need your sleep too.”

“I could just help you relax, Daddy,” you purr. “Let me make you feel good. I know you need me.”

“I need you, that’s right,” Walter softly says. “But I don’t want you to make me feel good. I want you to just be here with me. I want to hold you.”

Your heart flutters at his words. It’s the closest thing to another love confession from Walter.

“Aw, Walter,” you immediately pounce on him to lie on top of Walter. You bury your face in his neck and sigh. “I love you.”

“I love you too, Y/N.” He looks at you in his arms, a content smile on his lips. “And over the weekend, I will fulfill the promise I made to you…”

Tags in reblog.

#walter marshall #walter marshall x reader #walter marshall x you #walter marshall x y/n #henry cavill is walter marshall #Caring #dom!walter marshall #fluff #tw: daddy kink #Henry Cavill

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kandisheek · 8 months ago

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FIC REC WEEK 10 – FOUND FAMILY

AUTHOR SPOTLIGHT: scifigrl47

If you've been in this fandom for any amount of time, you've probably read something of Sci's. The universes that she's created are a fandom staple, and it says a lot about how fantastic her writing is that her OCs fit seamlessly into the stories, to the point that I sometimes forget that they're not actually canon. I especially love the way she writes the whole Found Family aspect of the Avengers, so those are the kinds of fics I want to rec today. But honestly you should just go ahead and binge her entire AO3, because everything on it is incredible.

Here's some of her work that I think you should check out:

Phil Coulson Knows Tony Stark's Super Villain Name

Pairing: Steve/Tony, Clint/Coulson Rating: T Words: 14,454 Tags: Training Exercise, Paintball, Humor

Summary: The only thing really stopping Tony Stark from attempting to conquer the world is that he wouldn't know what to do with it once he conquered it. He's still pretty sure he could do it, though. SHIELD's pretty sure he could do it, too, and SHIELD is pretty uncomfortable with that. There's a plan in place, in case Tony makes a try for world domination, or any sort of caped super villainy. It involves Steve. No one is surprised. This is not that plan. This is a training exercise, involving paint balls. It might end with world domination, anyway.

Reasons why I love it: You just know that if Tony wanted to, he would've taken over the world a long time ago. This fic is hilarious, and I especially love Bruce and Harris' roles in this disaster that Fury calls a training exercise. Also, Darcy is goddamn adorable. This fic always puts a smile on my face, so I hope you check it out!

The Best of Life and Asgard

Pairing: Steve/Tony, Clint/Coulson Rating: M Words: 15,794 Tags: Humor, Public Indecency, Drunken Behavior

Summary: Tony Stark has been drunk at a few parties in his life. A quick browse of YouTube makes that impossible to deny, so he doesn't bother. But he can control himself, he doesn't have to drink. He can stay perfectly sober for just one night. He promised, he could go one night without drinking. The problem is, he was the only one who made that promise.

Reasons why I love it: Drunk Steve is so adorable, oh my god. I love the mild dash of angst sprinkled in at the beginning and the end, and Steve's upset over his own behavior is funny and endearing at the same time. The strip poker scene makes me cry laughing every time. And the Avengers family feels are strong with this one. I adore this fic, so please check it out, if you haven't already!

Phil Coulson Does Not Bake (and The Avengers Do Not Shop At IKEA Anymore)

Pairing: Steve/Tony, Clint/Coulson Rating: G Words: 6,671 Tags: Humor, Pranks, Baking

Summary: Sometimes Tony Stark makes poor choices. Sometimes Tony pushes his teasing of Steve Rogers just a little too far. Sometimes Steve decides he's had enough. Phil Coulson's the one who's got to write this nonsense up, and he does not bake.

Reasons why I love it: Tony is such a little shit. Honestly, he deserves what Steve has in store for him. And of course, Tony is absolutely adorable in his desperation to make it up to Steve, even if he has to learn a new skill to do it. The rest of the Avengers getting roped into it is just the cherry on top. I love this one so much, please go and read it for yourself, it's amazing!

Extracurricular Activities

Pairing: Steve/Tony, Clint/Coulson Rating: T Words: 8,332 Tags: Overprotective Avengers, Poor Choices, Exotic Dancing

Summary: New York has a party for any taste. Some people like high class lounges. Some enjoy a good dive bar. There are gay bars and techno clubs and all night raves. And somewhere out there, there's a club where the dancers are dressed like Super Heroes, and Spider-Man may or may not be their headliner. Let's face it, the everyone assumed that Clint would be the first Avenger to take up pole dancing. He's a little distressed he's been beaten to the punch.

Reasons why I love it: I don't know why, but somehow the thought of Spiderman pole-dancing for money just makes complete sense in my head. And the rest of the Avengers being nosy bitches about it is a given. We love to see it. And any appearance of Harris in a scifigrl47 fic is enough to make my day. This fic is amazing, and you should definitely go ahead and read it!

Phil Coulson is Not the Avengers' Public Relations Manager

Pairing: Steve/Tony, Clint/Coulson Rating: T Words: 6,881 Tags: Humor, Steve Does Not Like Bullies, Social Justice

Summary: From the Avengers Case Files of Phil Coulson: Grocery shopping is necessary, Tony's a little too proud of his tech, Captain America's lost on the streets of New York, and sometimes social injustice just happens. Phil Coulson's the one who's got to write this nonsense up, and he is not their PR Manager.

Reasons why I love it: Drew and Shawn have my entire heart. And Steve too, although that one's a given. I love seeing the Avengers fight for social justice, and their statements to the press are so fucking satisfying. Give me Steve fighting bullies any day! Definitely check this one out if you haven't read it yet, I bet you'll love it just as much as I do!

#marvel #stony #fanfic #fic rec #fanfic rec #ficrec #a year in fanfic recs #found family

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meltypancake · 7 months ago

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15 Lines of Dialogue

Rules: Share 15 or fewer lines of dialogue from an OC, ideally lines that capture their character/personality/vibe. Bonus points for just using the dialogue without other details about the scene, but you’re free to include those as well.

WAOW ty for the tag @cherrypikkins :] !!

Part I

“But let’s head back. They’re serving potato gratin for dinner tonight—“ she paused for dramatic effect— “extra cheesy."

✦ [ Choir practice ] “Huh? Whoops, what verse were we on again? Oh well.”

✦ “I heard wyverns assert their dominance by showing off their wing span. (opens arms wide) Does this look intimidating enough?”

✦ [ First kill ] “I’m sorry, I’m sorry… Please don’t ever forgive me.”

✦ "I promise you, Dimitri, that I will stay. I will carry these souls.” “And I swear that if it ever feels easy to take a life, I will lay down my axe forever."

✦ “That’s tragic. Every kid deserves to have some fun.”

✦ “Perhaps next time,” he deadpanned, “you might ask Dedue to tie the knots instead.” “My knots were fine!” Eliane shouted. “The branch was the problem!”

✦ “I even got up early,” she lamented, hardly registering his words or even his presence. This was no longer a conversation, it was a cavalry charge. “So early,” she repeated. “Sunrise is a wretched time to be awake. Birds? Sure. But people? No."

✦ Cute, passionate, strong, skilled... and brave, she thought. That's me. [ There is a blatant lack of self-awareness on display here. ]

Part II

“The world is vast, isn’t it? Yet our actions, small as they are, can make a difference. Sometimes I just need to remind myself.”

✦ (closing her eyes) “They wyverns are singing. Can you hear? The wind carries their voices. I could listen to this all day.”

✦ “Here, I made this balm for you. It works wonders on dry skin. …Uh, not that your skin is dry or anything. It looks great, I mean. …Please just take it.”

✦ “Has it really been 5 years? Things seemed simpler, back then. Or perhaps I’m the one who has changed…”

Tagging @barbieburnanator @lovehollyberry @yulgurr @justme-inmyownworld

@resident-cake-anon @moonlightleafs @peachiehambo and YOU 🫵 if you're feeling up for it! <3

#eliane #fe3h oc #this was fun!!

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flamemittens · 8 months ago

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WIP Wednesday

Actually made it this time!

I was tagged by the lovely @littleplasticrat.

Thought I'd share a snippet that's part of a larger thing I'm working on - I like to imagine Gortash wrote a small handful of letters to my Durge after she went missing, but never sent them, just stashed them away in a locked box. This is the last one he wrote after deciding enough was enough.

Generally, I feel like he is someone who avoids being 'in his emotions' as much as possible (if at all), but he perhaps allows it for himself on the odd occasion.

Mori, I truly don’t know why I commit these words to paper still; you will never read them. You are not here anymore, and I find I am stuck on this loss. But, I will allow myself this final indulgence before I draw a line under it going forward. If I can. Oh, but I must. You questioned my interest in you, doubted its authenticity. A closeness borne only of lust you thought, of the desire to own, to control, to dominate—what did I truly want from you? Why did I persist? On that I must concede—I admired and wanted your body yes; but also your spirit, your brilliant mind, your hunger tempered by astonishing control, your unwavering dedication to a cause. In short: all of you. I recall the way you looked at me and pointedly addressed me by my given name for the first time, unprompted, seconds before we left for Mephistar. I think I knew for certain then, a tacit acknowledgement that cemented after we shared a bed for the first time on our triumphant return. It was not just adrenaline, dearest assassin. Neither were the times after. You will think me weak, of course. Insufferably mawkish. And you’d be right, in a way. Did you really not see her coming? Or did you simply not care, either so certain you could best her or perhaps even seeing it as an opportunity to vacate a wretched existence? You told me she wouldn’t be a problem, but there was a pervasive gnawing, an itch at the back of my mind that intimated otherwise, and, as I have the dubious privilege to now know, was proven correct in the end. The cold truth is that one must keep going, even when that which you value the most is wrenched from your grasp. So, I say it now before I come to my senses: I would rather have known you briefly and ultimately suffer the loss of you as I did, or perhaps die by your hand upon your Father’s altar at the end of the world—than have never known you at all. Enver

Once again no pressure tags for @sassyandsodone, @unreadpoppy, @timesthatneverwere, @sky-kiss and @inaconstantstateofchange.

#wip wednesday #wip #flamemittens writes #bg3 #baldur’s gate 3 #enver gortash #durgetash #oc: morgayne

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so-long-soldier-writes · 1 year ago

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Revenge

kai parker x bonnie bennett

summary: even though kai is away for good, something still nags at bonnie. he deserves more pain than what she gave him; he should get equal to what he made everyone else suffer. the witch shakes her head. desiccation is punishment enough for any vampire, hybrid, or heretic. she’s seen it plenty of times.

still. despite her revenge, she craves more.

tags: NONCON / dubcon elements, non-consensual touching, blood drinking, minor violence, degradation, hate sex, painful sex, edgeplay / edging, orgasm control, pain kink, hand-jobs, blow-jobs, cussing, biting, teasing, sounding, unsafe sex, begging, voyeurism, masturbation, thigh riding, dominance, forced submission (dom!bonnie x sub!kai)

word count: 8k

a/n: i watched a 2 min clip of 'what lola wants' and then spent the next twelve hours writing this😅

Bonnie’s sick of being treated like crap. She’s tired of being used, manipulated, and abused by witches, werewolves, and vampires alike. She’s tired of friends and enemies demanding favors and then neglecting her when they’re done. She’s sick of all of it.

But out of all the people at whom she’s the most angry, it’s Kai Parker.

The man she was alone with for months, trapped in 1994. The man who left her there, and then raised hell in her hometown in her absence. The man that had no problems killing anyone to get what he wanted - even children.

It’s him who she hates most above every other person who’s wronged her. So when Bonnie finally got the upperhand, she was more than happy to put him in his place. Now, Kai is stuck in a new prison world; chained with the strongest metal she could find. He’s there all alone, his least favorite song on repeat, to face an eternity of misery until he slowly desiccates.

Bonnie can’t help but feel proud of herself.

But even though Kai is away for good, something still nags at her. He deserves more pain than what she gave him; he should get equal to what he made everyone else suffer.

The witch shakes her head. Desiccation is punishment enough for any vampire, hybrid, or heretic. She’s seen it plenty of times.

Still. Despite her revenge, she craves more.

It’s been a couple weeks since she locked him up and threw away the key. Bonnie had expected to forget about him by now. She could live her life without his torment, or the fear that he’d find and hurt her. She should be free from all the pain he caused.

Yet… she can’t stop thinking about him.

If he’s still on her mind, she thinks, then he deserves more than what she gave. Tighter chains, louder music, less hope. Or perhaps… more pain. To give him hope, but then to take it away. To make him feel something, but then leave him with nothing.

Bonnie’s skin prickles at this thought. Nerves carve a pit in her stomach as a new plan forms in her head. It’s risky, wicked, and downright sinful, but it makes the edges of her lips twitch with amusement. Kai hasn't gotten all that he deserves, but she’ll make sure he does by the time she’s through with him.

~~~~~~

The ascendant’s hidden in a locked box under her bed. She told Damon and Alaric that it was in a safe in the Salvatore mansion. Obviously, she lied. Bonnie wanted to keep it closeby for reasons just like this - in case she’d ever need to check up on the man. As if he were a Peanuts’ character trapped in a dangerous, little snow globe.

In five minutes’ time, she sends herself to the new prison world and makes her way to the bar where she had chained him weeks ago. She can already hear the Spin Doctors’ worst hit song from outside, and can’t help but cringe at the thought of hearing it on repeat.

Bonnie enters the bar as quietly as she can. The door creaks, though, as she shuts it, so when she approaches the center stage, a half-dessicated Kai is already staring at her.

His gaze is cold, but as soon as he recognizes his guest, a smile creeps on his face.

“Bonnie Bennett. To what do I owe the pleasure?”

She scoffs at the irony. “My being here does not mean pleasure for you.” In a split second, she turns off the tv, relieving them both of the annoying music.

“Oh, but it always is when you’re around,” he flirts, “and besides, that,” he gestures to the now blank screen, “is also a pleasure to have off.”

Bonnie rolls her eyes. “Actually, I’m here to give you more of what you deserve. Pain.”

“More punishment? Is that so?”

The woman joins him on the stage, but keeps a distance. “You won’t be joking around by the time I’m finished here. Might as well give up the act now.”

“What are you going to do? Hurt me? Hit me?”

“Oh, I’m going to do much worse than that.”

Kai can only follow half her movements with his eyes. When she circles around to his backside, he’s rendered incapable of defending himself. Bonnie smirks when he struggles against his chains. He’s afraid, she realizes. She has the ability to strike fear in him.

Bonnie comes up close enough to press her body into his chair. She flicks open a switchblade and presses it to his neck.

“How does this make you feel? I have all the power over you right now.”

Kai settles at the feeling of the blade on his neck. Struggling against the chains would only make him bleed and weaken him more.

“Nothing to say? That’s a first.”

“Bonnie-” he manages.

“Ah, ah, ah, you lost your chance to talk,” she interrupts at once. “Now, you stay still. If you struggle against those again, you’ll surely regret it.”

Kai doesn’t answer, nor does he move. Satisfied with his obedience, Bonnie removes the knife from his neck and cuts her pointer finger, just enough for it to bleed. She switches the knife closed and tucks it into her jean pocket. Kai’s veins immediately show under his eyes. He’s starving, and she knows it. Bonnie grabs his neck, squeezes it, and pulls him back. Their eyes meet.

“What,” he chokes out, “are you doing?”

“Be quiet.” Bonnie touches her bleeding finger to his lips. His veins darken even more at the small taste of her blood. “Well? What are you waiting for?”

At her vague consent, he darts out his tongue to lick his lips. The grayness of his slowly desiccating state fades away, and his eyes roll in pleasure.

“Bonnie-”

“I said,” her hand tightens on his neck, “be quiet.” She lets another drop fall to his lips, then nods for him to lick it up. After a few more, he seems to get a small fraction of his strength back. Kai starts to look more like he used to - annoyingly handsome. His boyish features return to their usual youthfulness, as does the green-ish tint in his eyes. She lets go of his neck and walks around to stand in front of him.

“What are you doing?” He asks again, genuinely confused.

The girl, several inches shorter, yet currently way overpowering him, crosses her arms. “Getting my revenge.”

Kai narrows his eyes. “Isn’t that why you chained me up?”

“If you think that’s all you deserve, you’re sorely mistaken.”

She stalks closer to him.

“Why did you give me your blood?” He asks, sweat beading at his forehead as he nervously anticipates her punishment.

“So that you’d feel everything I’m about to do to you.” She gets even closer. Her knees graze against his.

“Which is?”

“You ask too many questions, do you know that?”

“I’ve been told.”

“Yeah.” Suddenly, she hits her fist onto his chest. It isn’t hard enough for the chair to rock, but it catches him off guard. “It’s been nice not having to listen to you talk nonstop. The last few weeks have been so blissfully quiet.” She pushes him now, this time with both hands.

Kai doesn’t speak. If he could, he’d grab her hands, but his chains don’t budge.

“And I’ve tried to forget about your stupid face and move on with my life, but I can’t ignore the little voice in my head that tells me you haven’t suffered enough yet for what you put me through!”

“Bon-”

“So that’s why I’m here! And you’re going to feel everything. That’s why I gave you my blood. So you’d remember how good it feels to be awake and alive again, just for me to take it away. I control you, Kai. You don’t have anything over me. You’re powerless. You’re nothing.” She spits the words out, cruelty in her voice, knowing just what to say to start up his rage. Though she’s right - there’s nothing he can do against her.

Anger and fear shoot through his body. His blood runs cold. Kai jumps at his chains, veins darkening again, but it’s no use. He couldn’t get out when he was at full strength, and he certainly won’t get out now. Still, he tries, at least to loosen them.

Bonnie, meanwhile, just watches him struggle. She has the nerve to smirk, angering him more. “You’re only hurting yourself,” she mutters.

Kai doesn’t care. He continues to fight uselessly.

After a minute, though, it suddenly seems she’s had enough watching him. She slaps both of her hands onto his legs, palms open, sending a stinging sensation up his spine. “Stop fighting. You look pathetic.”

“Bonnie,” he cries to her, though does stop moving.

“Shut up.”

“Bonnie, I’m sorry. Please let me go. Let me out. I’ll be good, I promise.”

“I already gave you that chance. You can’t be trusted. You can never be allowed out again.”

“No, I promise, it’ll be different this time! I’ll be different. I’ll-”

“I said, ‘shut up’!” She slaps his leg again. Her hand lands dangerously further up his thigh. He flinches from the unexpected pain.

“Bon,” he tries again.

Astonished at his refusal to listen, she looks him dead in the eyes. “Have you ever listened to a word anyone’s told you? I tell you to be quiet and you just keep whining! It’s so fucking pathetic.”

His eyes widen. He’s never heard her cuss before.

“Finally! Maybe you are capable of doing something right.”

“I can, I promise! Let me prove to you that I-”

“Awh, nope. Back to square one.”

“Wait! You tricked me!”

“I didn’t trick you! You tricked me! Over and over when you made promises to me and continuously broke them. You can’t do anything right. Can’t even shut up for one second.”

Kai bites his tongue when he wants to reply. At first he was amused by her bullying, but now it’s getting to his head. Bonnie can see it in his eyes. She’s weakened him enough that he won’t fight her back anymore.

“Good. Now stay that way. You can only speak if I give you permission.”

Kai is confused, but doesn’t ask. His tongue bleeds from the pressure he puts on it.

Bonnie’s hands run further up his legs. Her fingers curl in between the chains, feeling the heaviness of the metal.

“Do these hurt?”

Kai nods.

“Good.”

She gives them a tug, then abandons them. Her hands move to his belt, toying with the buckle.

“Bet that’s uncomfortable,” she chuckles.

Kai expects her to examine more of his confined hell, maybe to confirm that his boots are tied too tightly, or that his shirt tag is itchy, but her focus has yet to leave his belt. He swallows, watching her fingers trace the buckle’s golden metal.

“Pretty tight, too. Would suck to be bound in a chair with a belt that’s too tight. Imagine the stomach ache. Yikes.”

Before Kai can even consider a response in his head, Bonnie’s undoing the buckle. He blinks in surprise, wondering if he’s dreaming. The woman lets it fall to his sides when it loosens, then she traces a finger down the center of his jeans. His pants tighten by the second. His lips part in pleasure, but he doesn’t dare make a sound.

She then pulls down the zipper and feels for his quickly hardening cock. When she gets a hold of it, she brings it through the hole.

“Thank god you’re big, otherwise this wouldn’t even be worth it.”

The degrading praise makes him even harder. Kai clenches his fists and squeezes his eyes shut. The urge to say her name, taste it on his tongue while she holds his cock, is strong, but he fears the consequences if he speaks.

Bonnie runs her fingers along his length. At first, she just admires the size. Her nails scratch slightly, but the pain feels good. As soon as pre-cum starts to dribble from the tip, she rubs her thumb in it. She smears it around his head, making it wet and sticky. Bonnie spits in her hand to wet the rest of his length. Then, with his cock squeezed in between two of her fingers, she starts to jerk him off.

She starts slow, but picks up pace the harder he gets. Whenever her spit dries, she adds more, but it isn’t adequate lubrication. Neither care, though. Bonnie doesn’t care about his pleasure, and Kai’s too desperate. She watches him lean back into the chair, chest heaving as he fights the urge to moan. He’s sweating profusely. He looks so weak in her hands, with his pleasure depending on her choices. Bonnie spits on her other hand and mixes it with his remaining pre-cum. She jerks his length with her whole fist now, while the nails on her other hand dig into his sensitive head.

“You can speak,” she instructs.

Kai lets out a deep sigh almost immediately. A shudder runs through his body, followed by a heavy moan. “Bon,” he pants, cut off by his own need to moan again.

His sounds of contentment are some of the prettiest she’s ever heard, but she’d never admit it. Instead, she jerks him faster. She tightens her grip around his cock and pulls on it. Moans continue to tumble from his lips, one after another, while Bonnie doesn’t slow down for a second.

That is… until he’s close.

“Fuck,” Kai whines, “fuck, Bonnie. Don’t stop, I’m so close.”

They lock eyes. She runs her tongue along her lower lip. A little tease.

“I’m so close, Bon, I’m gonna- oh, fuck-”

Any second now, he’s gonna explode. Bonnie drops his cock immediately and watches it hang in the air. It’s red from the friction, and probably sore from the dryness.

“Why’d you stop?” Kai asks in between pants. “I’m- why- Bon-”

The woman straightens her back, smirking. “That’s enough for now, don’t you think?”

“No! Wait! Bonnie! Don’t leave, please! Don’t leave me like this.”

She laughs as his cock starts to soften. The lack of stimulation combines with the cool air in the room, leaving him edged. Kai is still pleading with her, but she tunes him out. Then, once he’s soft enough that he’ll need to work back up a sweat to come, she tucks him back in his pants and secures his belt.

“Goodbye, Malachai.”

With that, she turns on her heels and returns back to her world.

Bonnie washes her hands as soon as she gets back to her dorm, but she can’t shake the feeling of his heavy cock resting in them. She sighs to herself, conflicted with the thought, but decides not to linger on it. Instead, she thinks of Kai, and what he’s probably feeling at that very moment. Maybe he’s yelling - angry at her for visiting just to tease him. Maybe he’s crying - having been so close to finding relief, only to have it taken from him. Either way, she feels proud of herself. Kai can’t control her anymore, but she now has certain control over him, and she’s not going to stop until she’s satisfied.

~~~~~~

Two days after her secret visit to the prison world, Bonnie returns to it. Alaric and Damon had already made plans for the night, giving her enough time to edge Kai for another round before returning unsuspiciously to her room. She has it all planned out, and neither man should suspect a thing.

She repeats the same steps as before, creeping into the bar, finding Kai waiting for her as soon as he heard the door. His face is mixed with emotions in her presence. Emotions he probably doesn’t even understand, but she can identify some: anger, relief, desperation. She bites back a smile at knowing she can pull those feelings out of him just by entering a room.

“Hello, Kai.”

“Bonnie,” he greets, watching her carefully.

“Miss me?” She teases, finally letting that smile free.

“Ha ha. Stop making jokes.”

“Okay. Guess I won’t try to lighten the mood.”

He glares at her.

“Yeah, okay, guess not. Seems like what they say about blue balls is true… guys get so grumpy!”

“Can we just skip the awkward part and carry onto however you want to punish me next?”

“Alright, fine.” Bonnie stalks up to him and puts her heeled foot on his knee. “I haven’t really planned how I want to do that yet today. Any suggestions?”

Kai trails his eyes over her toned leg. “This works.”

“Ha ha,” she returns the same dry tone he used. “Never mind, I got it.” Bonnie takes her foot off him and immediately starts on his belt again. She’s leaning into him just a little bit to pull him through his jeans’ hole, when she feels something touch the back of her knee. Quickly, she whips around to see his fingers grazing her. Kai stills his hands at once, and when she looks back at him, he’s grinning.

“Couldn’t help myself.”

“You do not touch me,” she shakes a finger at him.

“You’re touching me.”

“I’m punishing you for all the shit you put me through.”

“By touching me?”

“It’s a means to a very satisfying end, where I leave you very much unsatisfied.”

Kai purses his lips, obviously holding back a laugh. Probably a snide comment, too, but luckily he doesn’t say it.

Bonnie glares at him, irritated once more by the man. Without much thinking, she slaps his soft cock, which she had just pulled from his jeans. Immediately, the man buckles - as much as he can in his chains.

“Ow!”

“I’m not here to make you feel good.”

“Noted.”

His cock starts to grow anyway. There’s a red slap mark on it, but the sudden pain seemed to get him hard. Bonnie stares, incredulous.

“You’re serious?”

“I can’t control it.”

“You’re pathetic.”

“Thanks for the reminder.”

For a moment, she’s quiet, as if thinking up a new punishment plan. Kai watches her face with curiosity. Incidentally, he gets harder thinking of how she might hurt him next.

“Did you like it yesterday when I hit you? Did that turn you on, too?”

“I don’t know, you tell me. You’re the one that had your hands on me.”

“Did you like it when I had my hands around your neck?”

“You could recreate it and we could find out.”

She scoffs, “good try.”

“Thought you wanted me hard so you could punish me more?”

“Well, it seems that job has already been done for me since we’ve been sitting here, talking about it.”

Kai looks down at himself. “Huh. Well, would you look at that?” He catches her eye again, a proud smirk on his face.

Bonnie immediately slaps his cheek. “Fuck you for enjoying this.”

“Was that supposed to be part of the punishment? Because hearing you cuss at me also helped yesterday.”

The woman straightens her posture, seething in frustration. “You’re so irritating, I can’t deal with you!” She’s quick to leave the bar, giving Kai almost no time to call after her. The door slams behind her, and he’s left in complete silence.

Five minutes later, Bonnie comes back in, still seemingly annoyed, but less angry-looking.

“What-”

“Don’t start. Don’t say a fucking word to me until I say you can.”

For some reason, Kai obeys. He squeezes his lips shut and watches as she kneels in between his legs. His cock has softened again since she left, but her touch brings him back in a matter of minutes. Her grip is strong as she takes him in her hand and jerks him back and forth. His body relaxes, then releases the pre-cum she needs to glide along him more smoothly. Though instead of using it as lube like he expected her to do again, her tongue makes contact with the tip of his cock. His head is enveloped in her warm mouth as she takes in his length. Kai moans, forgetting his instruction to be quiet. Bonnie slaps his thigh instantly, but it only makes him whimper.

“Shut up,” she tells him. A strand of spit still connects her lip to his cock, though she had pulled off him to talk.

“Sorry.”

She glares at him, but then goes back to her task. Bonnie traces the thick vein on the underside with her finger, then goes back over it with her tongue. Kai bites his own tongue, once again, to not make another sound. His body tenses as he struggles against his own desires.

“You can speak but try not to sound so fucking needy,” she snaps.

Kai nods.

She puts her mouth on him again. Her lips stay on his head while her hand does all the work to get him off, but he’s not complaining. She maintains her tight hold, squeezing slightly, bringing a little pain.

Kai starts to moan again. Soft ones, trying to sound less needy, as he was commanded. Though once he gets close, he starts to lose control. “Bon-”

Bonnie nips the skin on his head. He jumps in shock.

“Bonnie, ah-”

“Close?” She pants, separating her lips, but then blowing cool air where she had bitten.

“Yes. Please don’t-” She lets go. “-stop. Ah, no! Bonnie, no! Why? Please! Please just let me-”

“No.”

“Bonnie!”

The woman stands up. She waits for him to start going soft, then tucks him back in again.

“See you later, Malachai. Maybe.”

“Bonnie, please! Don’t go, I-”

“Remember what I said earlier? Don’t try to be so fucking needy.”

Moments after Bonnie washes her hands and sits back on her bed, Damon pops in the room.

“Hey.” He eyes her.

“Hey.”

“Where have you been?”

“Studying.”

“I came here, you weren’t here.”

“I was at the Grill.”

“Oh.”

“Need something?”

“Nope. Just… checking on you.”

“I’m pretty good today. How was it with Ric?”

“Pretty good, too.”

“Cool.”

“Yeah, um. Mind if I stay here just for a little? Stefan’s been angsty and I just…”

Bonnie smiles. They’ve grown quite close in the last year. “Sure.”

“Okay, cool.” He lies down in Elena’s bed.

Bonnie continues to study while Damon chatters on about his night with Alaric. She listens the best she can. Though when he comments about her strayed attention, she’s quick to blame her homework, and not the vicious thoughts swarming her head about one Kai Parker, and what exactly she’ll do to him next.

~~~~~~

The next time Bonnie can get away from the drama of Mystic Falls, she takes a short vacation to the prison world. Her excuse, this time, is needing some peace and quiet after dealing with heretic drama for the last four days. Although ironically, her escape would be found with another heretic. But Bonnie shakes this thought away as soon as it surfaces. Being with Kai is not an escape; it’s a continuation of his much deserved punishment. It’s her revenge on him for all his wrongdoings. She needs to deliver it as much as he needs to receive it. Besides, it’s addicting, every time she leaves him sore and begging for her to come back. It’s empowering.

That’s why she keeps going back.

This is the third time she’s visited him. Though instead of walking right up to him on the center stage, Bonnie disappears behind the bar. Kai had heard and seen her come in, but her change in routine has made him curious.

“What are you doing, BonBon?” He asks, a slight tease in his tone.

Bold of him to tease her when he’s the one tied up.

“Wouldn’t you like to know?” She fires back.

“You know what they say?” Kai clicks his tongue. “Third time’s the charm.”

“You wish.”

“Aw come on, Bonnie. Wouldn’t it be so fun if we could come together? I’m dying to know what your pretty little moans sound like. And you’ve heard mine, but I can be louder.”

“Do I have to remind you that this isn’t supposed to be fun?”

“But you have to admit, it kinda is.”

Bonnie looks at him, rolling her eyes. She’s about to go smack that stupid smirk off his face, but then she notices a metal glint on the shelf beside her. It takes her attention from him, and she chuckles.

“What?” Kai asks.

“Nothing.”

Bonnie then disappears into the kitchen on a quest for something wet. Something in this bar that she could use in place of lube. She smiles when she finds it.

Two minutes later, she’s standing in front of Kai with her newly found tools. He looks at them, then back at her.

“Coconut oil?”

“Mhm.”

“And a bar spoon.”

“Yep.”

“What are you gonna do with those?”

“Something dangerous.”

Kai shifts in his seat. She knows the debate he’s having in his head. She knows him now like she knows the back of her hand.

“No objections?”

“Do I have a choice?”

“Not really.”

Kai purses his lips, not giving her an answer.

“You’ll be fine. Just don’t think about it yet. Because if you get hard, it’s gonna hurt.”

“Wait what?”

But she’s already busy with his buckle. She puts the spoon in between her teeth while pulling him out, then crouches down to prep him. Kai watches with a morbid curiosity, trying to guess her next move. Bonnie, meanwhile, lathers the end of the spoon in coconut oil. Then, she applies some to the tip of his soft cock.

“Bon,” he can’t help the groan from the contact, “what are you doing?”

“Stay still. Tell me if you need more lube.”

“Okay.” Because what else is he gonna do about it?

Bonnie seems to enter a deep concentration as she lines the spoon up with the tip of his head. She keeps one hand on his cock to hold it in place and slowly inserts the spoon end into the urethral hole.

“Oh god,” Kai mutters, quickly catching on, “Bon?”

“What?”

“Do you know what you’re doing?”

“I’ve seen it in a video.”

He narrows his eyes. “What kind of-”

“Doesn’t matter.”

“Okay. But hey, have you ever done this before, because- oh!” He’s cut off - thankfully - by a moan as she reaches his prostate. “Oh god,” he says again, this time out of pleasure.

“Are you okay?” She asks. She doesn’t know why; it’s not like she cares.

“Yeah, I’m fine.” His voice is raspy as he answers. She tries to ignore the way it makes her feel.

“Okay.” She twists the spoon. It’s coiled handle would be felt against his walls, but she could only wonder how it’d feel. Judging by the strained groan that leaves his lips, it’s intense.

“Bonnie-”

“What?”

He says nothing.

“What?”

“I don’t know, I just-” She pulls it out a little, then pushes it back in. The motion effectively cuts off his speech again.

“I like this,” she smirks, “it shuts you up.”

Kai looks down at her. “Who knew you could be such a sadist, Bonnie?”

“Who knew you could get turned on by a spoon in your dick?” She fires back.

He doesn’t have an answer. Whether he’s embarrassed or speechless, she’s not actually sure.

Satisfied with her newfound ability to quiet him, Bonnie pulls it back again, until it’s almost out, and then slowly pushes more into his prostate.

“You still fine?” She asks again, still, not sure why she cares.

“Yeah. More of that,” he points to the floor.

“What?”

“The that.”

“Descriptive.”

“Lube stuff.”

“Oh.” She takes a scoop and applies it to his head, as well as what length of the handle isn’t buried inside him. The whole thing doesn’t fit, but she only needs it long enough to hit his prostate.

“Thanks.”

“Hm.”

“Fuck,” he mutters, watching her twirl it.

Bonnie puts some of the oil on her free hand, then starts to rub the outside of his length. She can feel the tool that’s inside, and finds herself having to bite her lip to not moan from the pleasure she’s giving him.

“Oh my god,” Kai’s words snap her out of her own mind.

“Don’t get hard,” she warns again, feeling it happen as she speaks.

“I’m trying not to. Hard when you’re touching me like that.”

“Do you want me to stop?”

“No.”

Bonnie continues to jerk him off per his request. She watches his face, which contorts between expressions of pain and pleasure, as he becomes erect. She’s stopped moving the spoon for now and instead lets it rest inside him. Kai chews on his bottom lip until it bleeds.

“Bonnie-”

“What?”

For a second time, he doesn’t answer. Bonnie decides to chalk it up to that maybe he just likes to say her name when he’s being touched. The thought makes her proud. For fun, she pushes the spoon into his prostate just a little further.

“Ah- fuck-” His body shivers, and she wonders if he’s close.

“Update?” She asks, not wanting to directly ask if he’s okay again.

“Um-”

She smirks, reading his face. “Close? But don’t want to tell me?”

“Bon-”

“You have five seconds. See if you can come in five… four…” She begins to carefully pull the spoon out.

“Wait, wait, wait! I’m close, don’t- just give me a little more time!”

“Two… one!” As soon as it’s out, she drops his cock. “Whoops! Out of time!”

“No, wait! Bonnie, please! I can’t do this anymore. I need,” he’s panting heavily, “need it. I can’t take it anymore.”

“Sorry, try again next time.”

“Bonnie!”

“Are you okay? Need more lube? Just for, I don’t know, comfort?”

“I need to come, Bonnie. Please.”

“So is that a no?”

“Bon-”

“Taking it as a no,” she mutters. “Okay… just because you look like you’re on the verge of passing out, and as much as I hate you, I’m not that mean, I’ll give you a little treat.” She retrieves the switchblade from her pocket, cuts her finger, and lets a couple drops of blood drip onto the spoon part of the bar tool. His veins appear quickly at the mere sight of her blood, and he finally shuts up about his desire to come. Bonnie is careful in letting him sip off the spoon, then refills it once and feeds him again. Then, as he’s preoccupied with the taste of blood, she tucks him back in his pants and redoes the buckle.

“Bye.” She puts the spoon in the kitchen sink, along with the oil, and then waves goodbye to him as she leaves.

That most recent visit stays in the forefront of both their minds.

Bonnie wonders what got into her to even make her do it in the first place, while also being proud of herself for stimulating him in such a dominant way. Never would she expect that from herself, yet once she started, it was hard to stop. She found herself actually enjoying it - both the act and the intimacy of it, as well as his moans. She even had to stop herself from moaning in the middle of it as she listened to him.

As she thinks about it, though, she remembers what he had said when she first entered, “wouldn’t it be so fun if we could come together? I’m dying to know what your pretty little moans sound like. And you’ve heard mine, but I can be louder.”

And he had gotten louder. If they weren’t the only people in the prison world, she would’ve worried about others overhearing him.

Still… she wonders how exactly he’d react to her sounds. She bets there’s a way to edge him with her own voice; to pleasure him, maybe without even touching him. And then, of course, to take it away just the same. She smiles, liking the plan forming in her head.

Because as much as she might be getting turned on by his voice, she’ll never let him know. At least this way, she can get some pleasure for herself without him getting any of the credit.

As much as Bonnie thinks about that night, Kai thinks about it tenfold. After all, there’s nothing else for him to do. At first, he’s still coming off from the high of trying something new. He hadn’t come, but the experience was still very enjoyable. He even swears he can still feel the coils against his walls, turning and turning. Kai shifts; the memory of the sensation makes him hard.

But as the feeling fades, and the taste of blood expires from his lips, he grows angry. Angry at the fact that she’s been edging him for over a week. Angry at the hunger gnawing at his stomach. Angry at the way she’s using him for sexual gratification - no matter how much she claims it’s punishment. Angry at himself for enjoying it every time and forgiving her each time she comes back.

He’s pissed. His blood feels like acid, and he’s desperate for his own revenge.

~~~~~~

As soon as her heels click on the bar floor, Kai’s looking for her. He has a nasty speech planned for her, and the moment she comes into view, he’ll spit it out until she feels guilty enough to let him come. Rage dances in his eyes and the words balance on his tongue.

“How do you feel?” Bonnie’s voice hits his ears. She comes out of the shadows slowly, not only edging him in a sexual practice, but now also with the way she approaches.

Kai seethes. But the moment he opens his mouth to shout at her, his jaw drops. There she is, fully emerged from the darkness, as sexy as he thought he could only ever picture. She wears a bustier top with black leather pants, plus her heeled boots. Her breasts are pushed up and neck is fully exposed. Kai’s eyes travel from her collarbone, to her breasts, and then down the rest of her body. His breath catches and pants tighten.

“I asked you a question,” the woman repeats.

“I, uh-”

“Hm.” Bonnie grabs one of the bar chairs and swings it around to face him. She sits, straddling her legs apart, and leans back carelessly. There’s about ten feet between them. Ten feet of tense, sexually charged energy.

Kai tries to form a word, or even possibly start the rant that he had planned, but his throat is dry.

“You have nothing to say?” She challenges.

“You’re-”

She cocks her head at him. “No? Pathetic. Can’t even compliment how good this top looks on me.” Bonnie leans forward suddenly. Her breasts threaten to spill. “Tell me - why is it I have to do everything myself? I guess the saying is true… if you want something done right, you have to do it yourself.” She leans back again, studying him. Kai’s silent, now rather intimidated, as her eyes rake over his form. His eyes, dilated pupils bearing a pleading look. His lip, bloodied from being chewed between his teeth. His neck, skin flushed from edging without relief. His cock, hard in his jeans once again, desperate for touch. Bonnie smirks. “Well? Come over and have me your way, if that’s what you want.”

Kai struggles against his chains.

“No? Don’t want to touch? Guess I do have to do it myself.”

He fights again, and this time, finds his voice. “No! Bon, I want- please-”

“Sorry, missed your window.”

Bonnie unbuttons her pants before slinking a hand into them. She finds her clit with ease and wastes no time rubbing little circles into the tissue. A soft moan escapes her lips. Her legs widen involuntarily. Kai can only watch the scene before him as his cock hardens uncomfortably. Bonnie can see the outline from where she’s sitting, but she only spares him a glance before rolling her eyes back in her head.

“Bon,” Kai tries again. He can’t grab her attention, though.

One of her arms snakes up to her hair and she digs into her own scalp. She breathes deeply at the pleasurable feeling, then lets her hand drop back to her shoulder.

“Bonnie… I can make you feel good. Please. Let me out. I promise, I can do better.”

The woman pauses for a second. She chuckles. “Better? You really think so?”

“I know so. Just give me a chance. Please.”

“Never thought I’d see the day where Kai Parker is pleading.”

“Bonnie, I’m serious. I promise.”

“Okay then, come over here and do better. I dare you to try.”

Kai tries to get out of his chains again. “I can’t, you need to let me out.”

“Can’t? I thought you said you could?”

“No, not that. Bon- please!”

She shakes her head. “Boys and their egos… always thinking they can do it better.” Bonnie starts up again; Kai can see her hand moving in her pants. She puts pressure on her clit, dips her fingers into her core, then goes back to her clit when they’re slick. Her lips separate and quiet whines spill from them. Her free hand drops to her chest. She squeezes her tits from outside her top, before running her hand down the side of her body.

Her body is beautiful, but Kai’s mouth is too dry to tell her. He’s angry that he’s not the one pleasuring her, and also that he can’t pleasure himself. There’s nothing he can do but watch as she draws herself closer to her own orgasm.

A mere seconds later, with no warning to him except for the way her pace quickens, Bonnie comes. She grabs the back of the chair as her legs go weak, and several moans, much louder than her soft, little whines, sound like heaven to his ears.

Kai’s heart beats in his chest as she recovers, and he wonders he might’ve come without even being touched. He squeezes his legs together just in case.

When Bonnie finally comes back to her senses, she looks up at him. “I do a pretty good job by myself, don’t ‘ya think?”

Kai knows better than to answer. Instead, he watches her pull her hand out from her pants, button them, and stand up. Her fingers are coated with her own wetness. He can see it on her hands reflecting from the neon light behind them.

Bonnie then smiles and rounds his backside, just as she did on her first visit. Kai follows as much as he can, but loses sight of her quickly. Before he can ask what she’s doing, her fingers are up against his lips. The smell of her fills his nose.

“Suck.”

He does so immediately. Kai isn’t even tempted to feed, he’s so overwhelmed by her taste. Once her fingers are clean, she pulls them from his lips and stands in front of him. She looks him up and down, then leaves. This time, she doesn’t even say goodbye.

~~~~~~

The fifth time Bonnie visits, Kai’s hard the moment he hears her enter the building. When she reaches the stage and sees his tight jeans, she laughs.

“Wow. You must be pretty uncomfortable.”

“Bonnie, please.”

“Begging has gotten you nowhere, yet you still continue to do it.”

“I need to come, please. It hurts.”

“I thought you liked the pain.”

“Not this kind of pain.”

She stares down at him. “Hm. Maybe. If you stop begging me like a brat, maybe.”

“Okay. I’ll do whatever you want. I promise.”

She laughs. “Well there’s not much you can do. I mean, I’m not going to unchain you.”

He swallows hard.

“But maybe I’ll let you come. If I’m feeling nice by the end of today’s punishment.”

Kai nods, but not too quickly, not to seem needy.

“So how do you want this to go?” Bonnie stalks around him, focused on the way he reacts to her presence. His body shakes with the need for relief. It’s almost like she’s Pavolved him to get hard the moment she walks through the bar door. The thought of having that effect on someone - on Kai Parker, nonetheless - makes her wet.

“I don’t care, I just need something.”

“No begging, remember.”

He bites his tongue. “If I suggest something, you’ll just do the opposite.”

“What?” She fakes offense and puts a hand on her chest. “That would just be rude.”

“So is edging me for over a week.”

“Oh, you’re fine. Don’t be so dramatic. Besides,” she suddenly leans into his ear, “pretty sure you came last time without permission. So…”

“I didn’t. I promise. I thought I did too, but it was just pre. Trust me. If you let me come, you’ll see for yourself. I haven’t, but I really need to.”

“Begging again…”

“Bonnie, please.”

She sighs, giving up on that. She’d be lying anyway if she said she didn’t like to hear him so desperate. The whole ‘no begging’ thing was only to see if he could do it. Clearly, he can’t.

“Okay.” She comes around to his side and traces a finger down his chest. “Let’s see if you’re telling the truth, then.” Bonnie expertly unbuckles his belt with one hand, though she doesn’t take him out quite yet. “Are you completely hard? Or do you still have a little bit to grow?”

“I-”

She slaps his inner thigh. In a couple moments, the outline in his jeans thickens.

“Good to know pain still does it for you. Was kind of afraid the sounding was too much.” She finally pulls out his cock and lets it bounce against his leg. “Was it too much?”

“No,” he answers immediately, “felt good.”

She smiles. “What an interesting little thing you are.”

“You started it,” he fires back.

“Ah, ah, ah, don’t talk back to me.” Before he can apologize and beg again, she adds, “and don’t touch me.”

“Wait what?”

Bonnie straddles his leg without answering, then lowers herself onto him. Her core is separated by two pairs of denim, but Kai swears he can feel her warmth through the layers. She’s soaking wet, yet chastising him for being hard. His throat dries.

“Bon- ah!”

Without warning, she’s grabbed his cock and has begun to jerk him off yet again. Kai digs his fingernails into his jeans while fighting the urge to reach for her. His body reacts to her stimulation, producing pre-cum faster than it ever has before. Not even in the 1994 prison world had he ever edged himself as badly as Bonnie did this last week. And even worse, he’s had to completely rely on the woman for his pleasure. Kai lets out a choked moan as she spits on his cock to wet it. He misses the way her mouth felt that second night, but doesn’t dare mention it.

Instead, “can the coconut oil make a return?”

“You were fine with the dryness the first night.”

“I-”

Bonnie either pities him or actually understands. He doesn’t know, but she cuts him off. “One moment.”

Her hand leaves his cock entirely, then disappears under her own pants. Within seconds, it re-emerges, glistening with her own wetness, and settles back on his cock. Kai groans at the feeling. It’s wet and warm and coats him better than her saliva does. She jerks him faster once her hand starts to glide better.

“Did my moans live up to your expectations of what they’d be?” She asks suddenly.

Kai stutters out a ‘yes’ amidst the pleasure.

“Would you like to hear them again?”

“Uh huh.”

“Do you wanna make me come? I promise I’ll let you come if you can get me there.”

“Yes. Bonnie, please.”

“Good. Beg for it.”

“Thought you said ‘no begging’?”

“Changed my mind. Not like you were following that rule anyway.”

He gives her an embarrassed smile, not meeting her eyes. The unexpected submissive behavior takes her off guard, but she’s not complaining.

“Eyes on me, Malachai.”

His eyes snap up.

“Good.” With that, she starts to rock her hips on his leg. The friction between their jeans scratches her clit, but it doesn’t hurt. In fact, she likes it, and starts to rub harder. Her arm wraps around his shoulder for a better grip. “Good,” she repeats, “you’re doing well. Are you close?” She hadn’t slowed in her feat to get him off, not even during their brief conversation.

“Uh huh.”

“Okay.”

“You promise I can come?”

“When I say so.”

“Okay,” he pauses, “are you close?”

“Not quite.” Bonnie’s never had much luck getting herself off on pillows and fabrics. She’s tried, but most often needs clitoral stimulation to come. Despite that, she does feel herself reaching the edge; that knot in the stomach that comes with a high. Maybe it’s the pressure on her clit from his jeans. Maybe it’s just Kai, and his body, and the way she’s always had a desire for him, even though she hates him in every other aspect.

“I wish I could touch you,” he breaks the silence. Well, the pause between their conversation. The room has been filled with the sounds of rubbing denim, the slick sounds of his cock, and their heavy moans, since things started picking up.

“You haven’t earned that right yet.”

“That implies I could.”

“Shut up and let me focus on this feeling so I can come.”

Kai shuts his mouth immediately. He, too, decides to concentrate on the sensations that surround him, drawing him closer and closer to orgasm.

“Bonnie, are you close?” His voice is panicked. She can tell he won’t be able to hold off for much longer.

“Shut up-”

“But-”

The woman leans forward, burying her nose in his shoulder, and a second later, biting the clothed skin there. Kai flinches for a moment, but then hears the moans tumbling from her lips and knows she’s reached her high.

“Bon-”

She nods into his body. “Go ahead and come, Kai.”

Finally, with permission, and after four days of being on edge, he’s allowed the pleasure of finishing. A moan from deep inside his throat spills out at the same time a thick load shoots from his tip. There’s more than Bonnie expected, but Kai doesn’t seem surprised.

“Fuckkk.” His whole body shivers in pleasure.

When Bonnie trusts her own two feet, she climbs off his lap. There’s a small wet spot on his jeans where she was sitting, and a darker one on her own.

“You okay?” She asks, watching him recover.

Kai offers a lopsided smile. “Mhm.”

“Satisfied?”

“Yes.”

Bonnie takes one more look at him, then remembers why she’s here. Punishment. Revenge. Certainly not mutual masturbation. The woman straightens her back. “Good.” She turns to leave, unsure what else to say.

“Wait!” Kai abruptly yells. She stops in her tracks. “Now that you’ve let me come, does this mean you won’t be back?”

She turns back to face him, snorting in amusement. “What, you like this?”

“I like you,” he admits, hoping the truth doesn’t betray him. “I like you touching me, even if this is the first time you’ve let me finish.”

“Who knew Kai Parker would have an edging kink?”

“I don’t. I just like you, Bonnie.”

The woman stares at him.

“Please,” he continues, “don’t leave me here. I know I don’t deserve it. I know I’m a horrible person. I know you hate me. But please… you can’t hate me that much if you’ve visited me five times just to edge me. So even if you keep doing that - taking your anger out on me or using me to get off, whatever - keep doing it. I don’t want to spend another block of my life in isolation, Bonnie, I can’t.”

He has a point. She wouldn’t have kept coming back if some part of her didn’t like him at least a little. And on another note, if she keeps abandoning him in prison worlds, he’s only going to get more and more ruthless, less and less moral. As much as she hates him, she can’t do that to him. She shouldn’t. Deep inside her mind, a voice reminds that she doesn’t want to, either. She takes a deep breath.

“Next time I’m bored, maybe I’ll take pity on you and let you come again.”

Kai already knows she’s caved. She’ll be back. “Thank yo-”

“Don’t want to hear it.”

“Okay.”

“If you can prove to be good, that could work in your favor.”

Kai nods quickly.

“Goodbye, Malachai.”

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