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#BRANDON WHEN I CATCH YOU
itsnotmika · 11 months
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“spensa?” m-bot said softly. “don't leave me.” “i'm sorry,” i whispered, my heart wrenching. “i’ll come back. i promise.”
“please don't. don't leave me...” “hey," m-bot said with a quiet perkiness, “that's what i said to you. do you remember?”
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doodlintv · 2 months
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I just finished Mistborn era 1 and I am deceased actually….
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drunkonimagination · 3 months
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brandon rogers casually mentioning on his insta stories that ‘two things are dropping this weekend’ like it’s nothing, like i’m not here checking every hour for any notif or news from the cast/show’s official accounts, like i’m normal about verosika’s upcoming return, blitzø’s heart-wrenching expression we all saw in that trailer and stolas dropping another banger of a song that will 100% destroy me and live rent free in my head for the next three months…ha ha brandon, you silly…
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betheny-esda · 11 months
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charliemwrites · 2 months
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Part 5 of Mister(s) Steal Your Girl
Long awaited, but no Johnny smut just yet. Soon, I promise. (And Kyle will be back. It's been so long since he's gotten to smooch our dear reader.)
Also! A little reminder than you can check the queue to see what I plan to post for next. I try to update it often as the worms wiggle. Next I plan to do the final chapter of Greater Bad. (Unless I get my not-so-secret, no-longer-a-surprise oneshot out first)
Lastly! Please note that I wrote the "posts" from his perspective. So inconsistencies with the actual story and any grammar/spelling errors were purposeful or for "authenticity".
Content: Brandon.
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r/CakeEater _OnBrand_ I asked my fiancé for an open relationship before marriage. It worked. A while ago I posted on r/adultery about the affairs (yes, multiple) I was having behind my then-gf’s back. We’d already been dating for ~4 years and I was seeing one of my coworkers (my “work wife”) regularly and one of her coworkers on and off. People on my other post were critical and called me all sorts of things like selfish and pig. I know it’s not traditional, but I genuinely don’t think I could ever be satisfied by one woman. My work wife (Rachel) and fiance’s coworker (Lucy) provide things my fiancé just can’t but I still love my fiancé. She’s the woman I’m going to spend the rest of my life with. When I posted on r/adultery I was trying to figure out how to propose without her finding out. I knew she’d expect me to help with stuff and possibly want to look at my phone more often. It would have been harder to sneak off to meet up with Lucy or Rachel with wedding planning and I was sick of being stressed she would find out. Some nicer people on the post suggested I ask for an open relationship. I took their advice and sat her down to sell the idea. It’s a good thing I’m so good at sales (top 3% in my company for 5 years in a row) because she agreed. Yes, actually agreed. At first she got kind of pale and her eyes got really big and blank. I thought for sure she was about to start crying and run off. Maybe even kick me out. She doesn’t really get angry but she gets upset and it freaks me out. After I explained everything about how good it would be for us though, she agreed. This is my official unlimited hallpass. I’ve been seeing Rachel on weekends and Lucy once or twice during the week for drinks. Tonight I’m going to sign up for every dating site I can. Tinder, Bumble, Hinge. If anyone has other suggestions, I’ll check those out too. Fiance has been kind of off but I think it’s just an adjustment period. Sometimes I can tell she’s been crying but she hasn’t come to me about it so she’s probably just being emotional about all the changes. At least she’s got our house to focus on while she gets used to things. I feel a little bad about running out every night but she’s just so mopey and sad all the time and it’s not enjoyable to be around. I know she probably feels like I’m abandoning her a little but once she starts getting back to normal I’ll spend time with her again. You really can have your cake (all the cakes heh) and eat them too. Edit: no, I never told her that I already had Lucy and Rachel and I’m not going to. What good would it do? She’s already agreed to an open relationship and telling her that I didn’t have permission first would just hurt her for no reason.
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Kyle’s been gone for two (long, lonely) weeks when he finally gets a chance to call. So far, he’s only been able to send scattered texts at odd hours. Always something sweet – telling you he’s alright, or that he’s thinking of you. Sometimes you even catch him for a brief exchange before he apologizes and “goes dark” again.
Not that you begrudge it. This is part and parcel of dating him and you knew that going in. You’re not complaining when he’s putting his life on the line so that the public can live in blissful peace.
That doesn’t stop you from missing him though. His hugs, his smile. Getting his voice - even roughened by distance - is a nice compromise though.
“How have you been holding up, chickadee?” he asks after the initial reassurance that he’s whole and hale. 
“Easier this time!” you answer proudly. “I know what to expect with you gone and Johnny’s good company.”
“Yeah?” he asks, sounding pleased.
You can just imagine him now, leaning his hip against the nearest surface, arms crossed over his broad chest. He tends to duck his head when he smiles, and you unintentionally grin to yourself, thinking of him hiding into his phone. God, you miss him. 
“Mhmm! We found a board game bar that you’re going to love. Oh, and we’re going to the Hay Festival this weekend.”
He hums. “I’m sorry I can’t be there to take you, luv, but I knew Johnny would be good to you.”
More than good to you, really. There’s not been a day he doesn’t call to check up on you - if he doesn’t see you in person, that is. Dinner, movies, coffee. He’s somehow both a gentleman and an incorrigible flirt, but only with you. He’s nothing more than polite to anyone else, keeping his focus on you and whatever the two of you are doing.
You don’t know what to do with the undivided attention. If you didn’t know better…
“You two are getting close,” Kyle observes.
“I think so,” you admit, then hesitate. “Is… that okay?”
“‘Course, luv. I’m glad.”
You blink. “You are?”
“He’s my best mate and you’re my best girl.”
An odd pang of anxiety pierces your chest. Johnny calls you that too. His “best girl.” You love hearing it - but maybe you shouldn’t?
“It… doesn’t bother you? That we’re spending so much time together.”
He snorts softly, but it’s not derisive. It’s a noise he makes whenever he thinks you’re being silly, but his voice comes out soft and warm. Not an ounce of condescension.
“No, baby, I’m not fussed. You spend your time with whoever you want, however you want. Yeah?”
Your chest floods with warmth. “Okay.”
“There’s a love. I’ve got a brief, so I have to go. I’ll call soon as I can.”
“Be safe, Ky.”
“Do my best. Give Soap a smooch for us, aye?”
You blink as he hangs up. That’s a new one.
You ponder over it while packing on Thursday night. Was it just a joke? A tease at the little crush you’ve developed for Johnny?
Because it is a crush, you know it is. It’s impossible not to be attracted to him. Not with that smile, that laugh, the goofy humor and sweet mannerisms. He still sends you flowers every few weeks - just as the previous ones are about to die. It’s so thoughtful; you’ve started feeling a bit warm every time you look at them.
But you feel greedy, being even remotely interested in anyone else. You have Kyle and Brandon (even if you two are going through a… patch) and that should be enough for you. Shouldn’t it? You’ve never been with more than one person at a time before; it took you weeks to shake the compulsory guilt when you first met Kyle. It feels almost unforgivably audacious to want Johnny too, especially since he’s Kyle’s best mate.
Still… Kyle’s not a jealous or passive-aggressive guy. You’ve been with him long enough now that you know he’d just tell you outright if he was unhappy about something. And he’s been with you long enough that he can surely tell you’re more than a bit fond of Johnny.
Maybe that’s why he made the joke about “smooching” him.
Regardless, you want to talk to him about it. Things always make sense when you think out loud to him. His levelheaded and practical approach to difficult topics always straightens your panic spirals out into neat lines.
Plus, it’s not as comforting to hold your own hand. (God, when is he getting back?)
“Where are you going?”
You blink up at Brandon, folded pajamas in hand.
“The Hay Festival,” you answer.
Speaking of - you slip past him into the bathroom. He doesn’t follow, rooted to the spot spinning his phone around in his hands.
“Alone?”
You snort. “Of course not, I’m going with a friend.”
The allergy pills are at the bottom of the medicine basket beneath the sink. You really need to organize it the next time Johnny’s too busy to hang out. There’s no way you need three bottles of paracetamol. 
“I need that suitcase.”
You toss the bottle in and pivot for the dresser. “What for?”
He shifts, eyes sliding away. “An… overnight.”
Ah. That’s what he’s calling it now?
You snatch a few (too many) pairs of underwear from the dresser.
“Just bring them here,” you say over your shoulder.
There’s a long, tense beat of silence but you’re too busy rummaging for socks to break it first. Will it be too warm for thigh-highs? Eh, you’ll go with the sheer ones; the little lace roses match one of your dresses anyway.
“Bring who here?” Brandon asks slowly.
When you turn, he looks paler than usual. You shrug, trying to project casual comfort.
This is a totally normal and reasonable conversation to have. Just a couple in an open relationship, discussing a stranger coming to the house for a shag. Nothing to make a fuss over.
“Whoever you need the suitcase for? I know you’ve had people over before anyway, and I’ll be gone all weekend.”
He stutters, color returning to his face in bright pink blooms. “Why do you think I’ve had people over before?”
You arch an eyebrow. “I do the laundry, remember? And there was lipstick on one of the wine glasses.”
That had sent you into a tizzy at the time, disgusted that some stranger was in your bed, with your fiancé. You washed the sheets twice on the hottest setting and tossed in a bit of bleach for good measure. Hadn’t been able to look at him the whole week - not that he was there much to not look at.
Now, though, you seem to have adjusted to the idea, even if you’re still not thrilled. Brandon can have his… whoever over, and you’ll goof around with Johnny in Wales.
“Just toss the bedding in the wash afterwards,” you add.
“I thought you do the laundry,” he sniffs.
“I’m not traveling all day just to do chores when I get home,” you answer. He does a double take like you’ve started speaking a new language. “You’ll be here all weekend, I’m sure you’ll have time.”
He opens his mouth, and you can tell already that he’s about to argue - though you don’t really know what about. It’s not like he can’t do laundry or dishes, after all. He lived alone before you moved in together.
Thankfully, his phone distracts him before he can form the words. He spins away to tap at the screen and shuffles out of the room, shoulders till tense. You go back to packing and teasing Johnny about the amount of hair gel he’ll bring.
Friday afternoon can’t come fast enough. Even though you’ve taken a half day from work, the few hours seem to drag. You’re practically daydreaming about the food and drinks, music and activities. There’s a baker’s dozen art stalls you want to check out as well, and a gift to pick out for Kyle…
“Hope yer thinkin’ o’ me when ye make tha’ face.”
Your head snaps around so fast, you nearly give yourself whiplash. Johnny grins down at you in all his casually handsome glory – ripped jeans, green tee, and brown boots. Angels are singing somewhere, you think. Or maybe that’s just your nosy coworkers ogling from their own cubicles.
The reality of him sinks in a moment later and you leap up from your cushy chair – and right into his arms. He’s like a furnace compared to the cool, conditioned air of your office, a welcome source of warmth for your chilly fingers.
“What are you doing here?” you giggle. “Who let a rowdy guy like you in?”
He smells like bergamot and pine. It takes active thought to resist pressing your face into the crook of his neck. It looks cozy there.
As always, he squeezes you a bit tighter just before letting go.
“Hey now, Marcy’s a discerning lady. She knows a fine gentleman when she sees one.”
You snort, belied by the smile curling your lips. “She may need new glass then.”
“Och, don’t go talkin’ poor about my second-best gal now.”
“Is it that easy to get in your good graces?” you scoff, glancing at the time on your computer. It’s later than you expected; no wonder he came up to retrieve you. You spent so long daydreaming that you’ve lost track of time.
“Aw don’ be green, dove, you’re still my number one. Send ye flowers ‘n all.”
You roll your eyes at him. “Yeah, and now I’m wondering just how special that is.”
He stands close, proclaiming his case for how obviously special you are while you shut everything down for the weekend. You’re only half listening to the bit, admittedly. Mostly just basking in your excitement for the mini road trip and the weekend to come. You have no doubt that it’s going to be fun, even if it would be better with Kyle along too.
“Where are you headed off to?” Lucy asks.
“Hay Festival,” you answer shortly.
You’ve never been a big fan of Lucy, but lately she’s been insufferable. Talking over you during meetings, leaving you out of emails, throwing away papers at the printer. (Okay, you haven’t seen her do that last one, but you know.) Worst of all, she can help but make backhanded comments about every flower delivery.
“You’re not taking Brandon?” she simpers. “Something wrong?”
“He’s hanging out with a friend this weekend too,” you correct, “and he doesn’t like hay.”
“Shame that,” Johnny adds, sounding like it’s not a shame at all.
You haven’t told him much about Brandon – but you’re sure that Kyle has. From the face Johnny makes the rare times your fiancé comes up in conversation, he doesn’t think much of Brandon.
“Have fun you two!” your manager, Selene, calls.
You wave and shoot Lucy one last, unimpressed glance before stepping onto the elevator with Johnny.
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r/CakeEater _OnBrand_ My fiancé is going on a weekend getaway with another man. I’ve posted in r/adultery and r/cakeeater before. I’m not looking for judgement or insults here. I really just want advice.
A little context: my fiancé and I are in an open relationship and it’s been like this for a few months now. I originally asked her to ope the relationship and for a while she was weird about it but lately she’s been getting sbetter. I thought she was finally getting used to me going out with other women and things were getting back to normal.
A few weeks ago, I noticed she was on her phone more. Like, all the time. Even at dinner when she used to be really picky about phones at the table. One day I came home from work and she was talking on the phone to someone. Giggling and laughing. When I turned the corner she was kind of blushing too. It kind of bothered me but I figured she was talking to a friend and just hot from cooking or something.
Lucy texted me pissed off one day, asking why I was sending my fiancé flowers but not her. I told her I hadn’t sent any flowers. I think they’re way too expensive for how long they realistically last and that they take up a lot of unnecessary space. But I thought it was weird that someone was sending my fiancé flowers and got kind of uncomfortable. That’s a pretty romantic gesture and her family isn’t the type to randomly send flowers either.
I tried taking her out on a date but she was all mopey again and turned her phone to ‘do not disturb’ so I wouldn’t even see if she was texting someone. We don’t have much to talk about now. I love her but she’s not a good storyteller or into very interesting things. All her ‘funny stories’ are just mundane things that happen during the day. We’ve run out of interesting topics about because we’ve been together so long. (That’s why I like having more than one partner.)
Yesterday she randomly started packing for a trip. I don’t even think she was planning to tell me until I asked her. She was packing a bunch of cute clothes too. Like dresses and tights and things like that. Stuff she only used to wear on our dates. I asked who she was going with and she just said ‘a friend’ which is weird because she would usually say the name of someone even if I don’t remember who they are.
Well today Lucy sent me a picture of my fiancé leaving her job with some guy. I couldn’t see his face because he was turned away, but I could see the side of my fiancé’s face and she was smiling at him. I got this awful sinking feeling in my chest like it was hard to breathe. It took me a few minutes to process that she’s going away for a weekend with a complete stranger.
Doesn’t she know how dangerous that is? Where did she even meet this guy? They’ll be gone all weekend so are they sharing a room? A bed? I nearly threw up thinking all these things as I called her.
I asked her to cancel her plans and come home. She seemed confused and reminded me that her plans were with someone else and it would be rude to ditch last minute. I told her I wanted to spend the weekend with her and that I’d been missing her. She seemed surprised and said that she’d see me on Sunday night, but she was looking forward to the festival with her ‘friend’ and wanted to go. As a last ditch effort I asked if her friend was more important than me, nearly begging at that point. She must have heard the desperation in my voice, but she just told me that she was already on the road and it was too late.
My fiancé doesn’t like lying but it’s hard to believe this guy was just a friend. Even if she sees him as a friend I know how men think and I doubt he sees her the same way.
She said some other weird stuff before she left about having someone over while she was gone. I don’t get it. How could she just casually invite someone else into our house like that? Has she had other people over? Is she dating now?
I’m not sure what to do. I don’t like that she put this trip over me. Should I talk to her about how bad this makes me feel? Should I call again and tell her to come home more forcefully? Am I blowing all of this out of proportion?
Edit: she doesn’t know that I’ve been seeing Lucy. I haven’t told my fiancé about any of the women I’ve been seeing. (mostly just Lucy and Rachel. I’ve done a lot of texting through apps and gone on a bunch of first place, but most women don’t put out right away and I usually can’t be bothered to get to know them better). Even then, I wouldn’t tell her about lucy. They don’t get along and never have. It would cause a lot of unnecessary drama.
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gothbitchshit · 3 months
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Match My Freak
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Pairing: Eddie x plus sized girlfriend reader
Rating: Explicit — minors do not interact
Genre: fluff, kinda crack?, explicit smut, post s4 Eddie lives!AU
Word count: 5.3k
Summary: Eddie's girlfriend goes looking him Eddie and finds herself in a compromising position, and sharing some feelings she wasn't expecting to that changes the nature of their relationship forever.
Warnings: established relationship, Eddie likes his girls thick idc I make the rules, confessions of sorts, near anxiety/panic attack, lowkey roleplay that turns into not-roleplay lol, overuse of pet names, finger sucking, mentioned fingering (does not occur), choking, impact play/pussy slapping, master kink, fingering, unprotected sex, safeword discussion, d/s implications, dirty talk (these two are filthy), dumbification if you squint, Eddie being silly, these two are horny and in love – if I missed anything please let me know!
Requested? nope, but @slashersteve and @witchoftheewilds encouraged me to write this so they get credit
Authors note: so... I disappeared for like 2 years. Sorry about that lol this is written in 3rd person with the reader having she/her pronouns.
⋆ ☽ ⋆ ☾ ⋆
She knew exactly where she’d find him — sitting on his throne in the low-lit room, feet up on the table with his nose buried in a Dungeons and Dragons manual instead of home room. She wasn’t surprised when he didn’t even flinch when she walked in; most of the Hellfire Club came and went as they pleased, and she doubted Eddie even realized the morning bell had rung. 
She’d been disappointed not to find him in the parking lot that morning, even more disappointed when she hadn’t found him waiting at her locker. But when she didn’t see him loitering outside Mrs. Brandon’s class until the bell rang, she knew exactly where he’d be. 
It was Friday, which meant he was going over his campaign before the Hellfire meeting planned for that night. He looked so excited, almost manic as he poured over his notes. She locked the door and pulled the shade down before lazily making her way over to him.
“Oh, gracious dungeon master,” she drawled seductively, Eddie’s eyes shooting up to look at her over his notes before a smirk settled on his face. She knew he’d already caught onto her game, and was more than willing to play along. “Could you spare a moment?”
“Always. What can I do for a princess, clearly lost in my domain, this early in the morning?” He asked, reaching out to take her hand, but she pulled away at the last minute, skirting around his chair. His fingers brushed the edge of the flannel she had tied around her waist but he couldn’t quite catch her.
“Well, as you can tell, I’m lost, and I’m in desperate need of answers,” she sighed, trailing a manicured finger down the side of his neck over the back of his chair.
“I’ll do whatever I can to help a lost maiden,” he replied, shivering as her nail hit the fading hickey at the junction of his neck and collarbone.
“So this sadistic, twisted campaign you’ve been planning,” she began, “What can you tell this lonely, weary traveler about it?”
“Well, princess, I can’t tell you too much. Can’t ruin the surprise,” he sighed, sitting up in his chair and making room for her in front of him, “But I can tell you that I don’t think any will survive the vicious, blood thirsty hoard that is commanded by Tharizdun, God of Eternal Darkness.”
She hummed in contemplation, finally moving to stand in front of him, remaining just out of his reach, “How can he possibly be defeated?” She asked, pushing herself onto the table, running a foot up the inside of his leg as she did.
“My sweet, kind princess,” he smiled, a slender, ring clad hand reaching out to grab her ankle, pulling it up to his mouth to place a chaste kiss on the skin. She shivered as he nearly forced her to lay back on the table, catching herself on her elbows, “I couldn’t possibly tell you that. I know the freshmen probably sent you in here to get a leg up on my campaign, but it won’t come that easily.”
She frowned animatedly, “You think I’m trying to trick you?” She asked softly, making him groan as his hand tightened around her ankle.
“I know you are, princess,” he laughed incredulously, “Why else would you be here, spread out on my table in front of my throne?”
“Can’t I just be curious?” She pouted, pulling her ankle away from him as she sat up.
“I’ll make you a deal,” he cooed, cupping her face in his hand, “If I tell you, you have to swear you won’t tell the freshmen about it and you have to come to Hellfire tonight.”
“Deal,” she smiled, pressing a quick kiss to the palm of his hand.
Eddie laughed, shaking his head before settling back into his throne, “Well, Tharizdun, the God of Eternal Darkness, is locked away, imprisoned for his crimes. But he is able to influence his cult members to act on his behalf. They are obsessed with finding and freeing him from his eternal prison so darkness can reign supreme yet again. To defeat him, you’d need someone who has magical influence to somehow stop his mid control and—“
“What if someone were to… I don’t know… stumble upon Thorzidune—“
“—Tharizdun.”
“Yes, sorry. Tharizdun. If someone were to find him and distract him…” she trailed off before locking eyes with Eddie and asking, “Could he be seduced?”
Eddie’s jaw dropped, a breathless laugh forced itself from his lungs as he stared at her, her lips curling into a smirk as she watched the wheels turn in his head. “Princess, I-I don’t think you realize what you’re—“ he stuttered.
“I mean, he’s not a zombie or anything, so he’s not immune to being charmed or whatever. So why couldn’t he be seduced?” She asked with a shrug. 
“Baby, your charisma stats would have to be insane to even—“ he began but she cut him off with a scoff.
“Excuse you, I’m a level 13 Bard and my charisma stats are off the charts,” she deadpanned, folding her arms across her chest.
“On whose authority? You’ve never played with me and you can’t just say things like that, it cheapens—“ he complained, but she cut him off again.
“Will the Wise,” she said firmly, making him freeze, “You can ask him. We’ve played extensively. Now, what would I need to roll to properly seduce the terrible, terrifying, Tharizdun?”
She could see the realization set in, his eyes going dark as he assessed her. The predatory gleam in his eyes sent a wave of arousal pooling in her core, “Well, who am I to question Will the Wise? So, you need a 15 or higher to seduce the mighty Tharizdun, princess,” he smiled, standing up to his full height to tower over her. “Here, I’ll even let you use my lucky dice,” he said, bending over to whisper directly into her ear before pressing the dice into her hand.
She felt like there was an electric current under her skin, her hands almost shaking in anticipation. She sucked in a breath and steeled her resolve, pushing Eddie backwards, back into his throne. “Thank you for the luck, oh gracious one,” she curtsied.
“Anytime, princess,” he smirked, leaning back in his seat.
“Oh,” she smiled innocently, “Will you hold this for me? It’s a little warm in here,” she asked, watching his eyes trail over her as she untied the dark flannel from around her waist, revealing the ripped black shorts. She could have sworn she saw Eddie drool a little bit as he stared at her exposed legs.
She turned on her toes, bending over the table dramatically, “Fuck, princess,” he groaned, his hands ghosting up the backs of her plush thighs. “You don’t even need to roll. Tharizdun is at your mercy at the mere sight of you.”
She turned to look at him over his shoulder, suppressing a laugh as she saw his eyes glued to the bottom of her ass. “No, we need to do this the right way, there are rules for a reason. You should know that,” she chastised, before turning back to the table. “Oh, and I’d rather be at Tharizdun’s mercy,” she teased, rolling the dice.
The moment of silence in anticipation seemed to stretch for hours, her breath caught in her throat as the dice spun before it stopped, landing on 20. “Congratulations princess,” Eddie breathed in her ear, “You got your wish.” Before she could respond, his hands were under the hem of her shorts, kneading into the flesh of her ass.
“Eddie!” She squealed, feeling the cold metal of his rings cut into her warm skin.
“Nope, that’s not my name right now, sweetheart,” he breathed into her ear, “Call me by my name, and I’ll grant you mercy.”
“‘Tharizdun, God of Eternal Darkness’ is a mouthful, and you know I’m a screamer,” She whispered back, “But because I’m at your mercy, what if I just call you master?”
She couldn’t help but feel satisfied at the sharp intake of breath she heard in her ear, followed by a low warning sound that reverberated in his chest. But the satisfaction was ripped away from her with a hand around her throat, pulling her back into his chest.
“If you call me that again, princess, you’re never getting rid of me, you got that? You say that shit again and you are mine, understood?”
Her heart fluttered and her knees went weak; she wanted nothing more than to be his forever. The simple thought of it made her break into goosebumps and her brain to go a little fuzzy. She wanted him to own her, to want her as much as she wanted him. “Please, master, I want it. I wanna be yours, only yours,” she pleaded softly, her eyes filling with tears at the unspoken promise in his proposition. 
Eddie sighed, a pleased hum vibrating through her back from his chest. His hand tightened as he scoffed, pressing his hard bulge into the cleft of her ass, making her whine. “My dumb little pet,” he cooed mockingly, “You come into my lair, batting your pretty little eyes at me, trying to seduce me for someone else’s benefit? And now you offer yourself to me, to keep?”
“Yes, fuck, I want you to keep me. I wanna be yours forever,” she whispered, her whole body trembling in his hold. “I love you, Eddie,” she hiccuped. 
His grip on her faltered, his fingers loosening around her neck, making her freeze. It had been on the tip of her tongue for weeks, always choking the words back as the insecurities echoed in her mind, all the same haunting tone that’d almost claimed her life in the upside down mere months before. And now she’d fucked it up — she should have known Eddie would never feel the same way about her as she did him. His words were just part of the game they were playing, he didn’t mean them like she did.
“Princess, I need you to breathe,” Eddie commanded gently, trapping her chin between his fingers and forcing her to look at him. His eyes were wide and wild, still half feral but also concerned, and all it did was make her cry harder. 
“It-it’s okay you don’t love me, I-I won’t be upset just p-please don’t-don’t leave,” she stuttered out between gasps, trying to stave off the panic attack that was building.
“Fuck, no, no, no, no, no, no sweetheart,” he cooed softly, cupping her cheeks, “I’ve been in love with you since the moment you slayed a hoard of demobats to save my stupid ass. Shit, I’ve probably been in love with you for way longer. Definitely before we started dating – like when you told me you liked my tattoo and my guitar and convinced me to play you part of the song I was writing, and then actually liked it? Y’know, I haven’t thought of a single other girl since then,” he rambled, the goofy grin she loved so much not leaving his face for a second. “I’m so sorry I made you think I didn’t, but holy fuck, I have been in love with you for so long princess and hearing you say it felt like a-a hallucination or something.”
“You love me too?” She mumbled through sniffles.
“You are the love of my life. I love you so much I don’t even have the words for it, which is saying a lot because I am known for my way with words.”
“I love you too, Eddie,” she smiled, pressing up onto her toes to kiss him, melting into his embrace.
His hands hooked under her legs, lifting her up so she could wrap herself around him as he carefully set her on the table. “I wasn’t joking baby,” he said, pulling away to look into her eyes seriously. “When I said you were mine, that I wanted to keep you. I want you forever because I am in love with you.”
The white hot burn of his words roared in her ears as he pressed his lips to hers again, slower this time, sucking her lip in between his teeth before giving her a sharp nip.
“Now that you’ve given yourself to me, and I to you, can we continue where we left off? Because we only have 30 minutes before next period, and while I am fully willing to skip O’Donnel’s class to claim my pretty little pet, you told me you’d kill me yourself if I don’t graduate with you.”
“And I stand by that statement,” she smiled, still feeling dazed, “But I also need you to fuck me so hard I forget how boring Bunsen’s chem class is for the entire hour. Can you do that, oh gracious one? My God of Eternal Darkness.”
“Don’t you need that to graduate?” He chuckled, pressing a kiss to her neck.
“Yeah, but it’s lab day and Nancy’s my partner,” she shrugged, shivering as she felt the tendrils of his curls ghost across her skin.
“Oh, so you just fuck around while everyone else struggles?” He grinned, nipping at her neck to make her gasp. “Why am I not surprised Wheeler would let you skate by”
“Because she’s my friend,” she breathed absently, too distracted feeling Eddie’s warm hands travel the expanse of her legs and his lips working his way across her chest.
“Mmhmm, and you’re gonna sit in that class with her, all fucked out after I split you open and make you cry bouncing on my cock?” He asked.
“Yes, please,” she whispered, her eyes rolling back as he bit down on her earlobe.
“Please what, princess?”
“Please, master,” she sighed.
“Of course, my pet,” he smirked, “I’ve told you before, flattery works on me, sweetheart.” She didn’t notice he had been causally undoing the buttons that held her shorts up until he was yanking the fabric down her ass and throwing them to the side.
“Eddie, baby, please. Don’t tease me. I need you now,” she pleaded, eyes wide and glassy as she stared at him, “I’ll do anything when we get home, anything, as long as you fuck me now, and you fuck me hard.”
“Sweet princess, my little pet, have you forgotten your manners already? I’m your master right now baby, and you’re at my mercy. That was the deal,” he chuckled, “But since you asked so nicely…” He took two steps back from her, settling himself into his throne with a dark glint in his eyes. He started in her eyes as he unbuckled his belt, the handcuffs clinking as he unbuttoned his pants. “I need my girl to come ride me on my throne, seeing as you, from this moment forward, are my queen.”
She bit her lip so hard she could feel it split, the sharp metallic filling her mouth, “Yes master,” she nodded, pushing herself off the table. Eddie’s wicked grin grew even more as she took two careful steps toward him, coming to stand between his spread legs.
“I see my princess got all dressed up just for me,” he smirked, his fingers ghosting over her stomach, venturing under the hem of the Dio shirt he’d given her the night he asked her to be his girlfriend. “Do you like wearing the clothes I get you, baby? Letting everyone know that you’re mine?”
She nodded, a shy smile on her face, “It lets everyone know that you’re mine too,” she whispered, climbing into his lap. She trailed her nails up his neck softly, relishing in the hiss that came out of his mouth, “Can’t let anyone try to take you from me.”
“Sweetheart, I assure you. No one other than you wants me,” he laughed, but her hand in his hair cut him off with a groan.
“It’s because they don’t know you. If they did, every girl in Hawkins would be fighting for your attention,” she frowned, littering kisses across his face. “Well, everyone except Nancy and Robin.”
He groaned in displeasure, “Do you want to get fucked or do you wanna talk about them? It’s one or the other baby.”
“I need you to fuck me,” she smiled innocently, grinding down on him with an experimental roll of her hips. The satisfied moan caught in her throat, the friction being nearly too much to handle after the teasing she’d received.
“That’s right, sweetheart,” he nearly purred, his gorgeous, massive hands holding onto her hips. The cool metal of his rings made her eyes roll back as they settled on her heated flesh. She felt herself slipping back into the hazy headspace she’d been in earlier. 
She had never considered herself very submissive —  a switch at best — but Eddie brought something out of her that she’d never felt before. And it terrified her. Being with Eddie was so different than the other guys she’d fucked. She knew Eddie would hand her the reins of control as soon as she asked, if she ever asked; he would indulge her every whim without a single hesitation. And because of that, she let herself float into it without fighting it for the first time. 
She semi consciously realized Eddie could tell exactly when she let herself go, his grin curling into one that was more smug, and deeply self satisfied. “That’s it, there’s my good girl,” he sighed, “Been waiting for you to let me behind those walls you built, sweetheart. Knew you’d be the perfect little pet for me,” he cooed, pushing his thumb past her lips.
She ground down on his erection, spit leaking from the corner of her mouth lewdly as he pushed down on her tongue with the pad of his finger, keeping her head still while the other directed her hips.
“Gonna fuck you now, s’that okay princess?” He slurred, his head tipping back as he bucked his hips into hers unconsciously. She nodded, mewls of approval falling from her open mouth making him laugh. “Alright, alright, gimme one second sweetheart.”
Without moving his thumb from her mouth, he managed to shimmy his pants and boxers down to free his cock — hard and leaking pearly beads of pre cum that made her drool and her pussy clench in excitement. “Please, my love, please,” she slurred, her hands trembling where they were bunched in his shirt.
“Anything for you,” he smiled. He hooked one long finger under the lace, pulling it to the side to expose her cunt, strings of arousal clinging to the thin fabric lewdly. A pleased hum left him as he stared at her, removing his thumb from between her lips with a pop before aligning his cock with her entrance, the blunt head pressed against her firmly. “Ready baby?”
She nodded absently, too fixated on the golden expanse of his forearms to properly retain any of the words he was saying. The veins and tendons under the skin, and the patches of dark black ink were something that captivated her attention even when he wasn’t about to fuck her senseless. But when he was — it was downright sinful. Especially when they gave way to his hands, God’s most beautiful creation. Wide, rough palms that bled into long, thick fingers, which just so happened to be holding something else long and thick, something she loved nearly as much as his hands: his cock. 
“Princess, I need you to look at me,” he said sharply. Her eyes flew to his, confusion and concern swirling in her brain, and evidently her eyes, because his eyes softened, pulling her closer for a moment to press a kiss to the space between her eyebrows, “You weren’t listening to me like a good girl, and I need you to pay attention to what I’m about to say,” he smiled, his tone soft. “If you need me to stop, you say red, got it? No matter what, if you need a break or something hurts or you don’t like what’s happening, or even if you just start to feel uncomfortable, you say red and we’re done. Got it?”
“Yes master,” she smiled, warmth filling her chest as he spoke.
He snarled in response, both of his hands finding her hips as he seated her on his cock, bottoming out nearly instantly. She choked on her groan, having to grab the elaborate headpiece of the throne to steady herself. She could have sworn she felt him in the back of her throat he was hitting so deep, and his girth was nothing to laugh at — it usually took three fingers to prepare her to take him — but the pain ebbing into pleasure was more intoxicating than any drug she’d ever done.
Without thinking, she pulled herself almost all the way off him before dropping back into his lap forcefully, ripping deep, low moans out of the both of them. “Do it again,” he ordered, wrapping an arm around her waist to steady her as she began riding him desperately. “That’s it, my good girl, you’re doing so well for me, sweetheart,” he praised, his hips meeting her thrusts evenly.
“Eddie,” she moaned shamelessly. The knowledge they were in school, and it wasn’t even 9am passed through her brain briefly, but as soon as it came it had gone, replaced only by the thought of Eddie’s cock kissing her cervix as he changed angles slightly.
“My princess, my sweet girl. You’re mine, you got that? You’ve always been mine, but fuck, sweetheart, I’m never gonna let you go now, do you hear me? Now that I know you love me as much as I love you.”
She couldn’t find words to convey to him how much she loved him, but her head was filled with flashes of images — of their future together. Graduating together, moving into their own place, eventually getting married, and achieving their dreams together; she could see it all, in perfect color with every thrust of his hips it became more clear. She wanted to chalk it up to being cockdrunk, but she knew it wasn’t. She’d found her other half.
In the beautiful boy that had a smile that lit up the darkest corners of her mind, the same one who she’d nearly lost multiple times in the twisted hellscape that still haunted her memories. Her life had restarted the second Dustin re-introduced them, standing in the parking lot less than 100 feet away. He had protected her, saved her — loved her — in spite of it all. 
She didn’t know how she hadn’t screamed her love for him every second of the day before then, because it flowed out of her pores like a river now. She wasn’t sure she could keep it in if she tried. 
She loved his messy curls, even now as they stuck to his forehead and became frizzier with sweat. She loved his big brown eyes and the way she could read every emotion in them at a moment's glance, but especially when they sparkled with mischief like they did at that very moment. She loved his insane tangents about obscure nerd lore, his scatterbrained messiness, his compulsive need to learn new guitar riffs even if it meant staying up until 4am before they had to go to school. 
She hadn’t noticed she’d started crying until she felt his tongue on her cheek, licking away the spilled tear before his eyes rolled back in his head. “My precious little pet, cum for me,” he cooed, “Obey your master.”
She hadn’t even noticed she was close, but as soon as his words permeated her brain she was shaking as the waves of her orgasm wracked through her body, a high pitched squeal wrenching out of her vocal cords, muffled only by Eddie’s hand slapping over her mouth quickly. 
“Fuck baby, I know I told you to scream for me, but we really don’t wanna get caught,” he smirked, his thrusts shallowing as he worked her through her orgasm.
“I love you, I love you so much, I don’t even understand how much I do,” she babbled softly, her brain scrambling to put words together in a coherent fashion. “I love when you hold my hand and how you talk to me and when you play guitar. I love your scars and your tattoos and your fingers and your cock and your eyes. Fuck, Eddie,” she sobbed incoherently, “Please!”
She felt weightless for a second as he stood, not moving from inside her as he slammed her back down onto the table. He hovered over her for a moment, staring into her eyes as he caressed her face softly, “God you’re fucking everything,” he groaned before snapping his hips into hers brutally.
The sheer force of him forced the sounds out of her — desperate, whiny, needy little moans that would have made her embarrassed on any other day — the ability to speak no longer in her grasp.
“You would have told me a year ago that my dream girl would be crying because of my cock and telling me she loved me? I would have thought I was dreaming,” he muttered, his teeth grit in determination as he pounded into her. “Too fuckin’ good for me. My Luthien. I’ll spend an eternity trying to prove myself worthy of you, sweetheart, in this life, the next, and every one after that.”
She felt her second orgasm approaching fast, her vision nearly going black with the force of its impending devastation. Her only tether to reality was Eddie’s hands on her skin, one hand holding hers and the other wrapped around her throat.
“Kiss me, please,” she croaked, pressing her heel into his back as her free hand grabbed his neck, pulling him closer as her orgasm tore through her like a tidal wave.
He groaned, his hips stuttering to a stop as he collapsed onto her, his lips finding hers as if they were drawn together like magnets. She could feel him throbbing inside her, coating the velvety walls of her cunt.
“Fuck, I’ve never cum that hard in my life,” he laughed breathlessly after he detached his lips from hers.
“Me either,” she shivered, the sweat on her skin cooling as they came down from their high together.
He smiled down at her softly, working his hands under her back before lifting her off the table easily, settling back into his throne with her body tucked into his chest. He pulled his jacket over her shoulders, combing his fingers through her hair gently, pressing his lips to her forehead every so often.
She felt the feeling come back to her slowly, Eddie’s warmth seeping into her skin. “You doin’ okay, sweetheart?” He mumbled, making her hum happily in response. “I’m sorry pretty girl, but we’re running out of time.”
“S’okay babe, I just need to feel my legs again so I don’t collapse in the hall and have to explain to Principal Higgins you shattered my pelvis with your dick in the theater room instead of going to home room,” she sighed airily.
His rumbling laugh shook her body, “I think Higgins would croak then and there if you did that princess.”
“Who would I be to take your graduation plans away from you? Flipping Higgins the bird and all,” she chuckled, kissing his neck softly before sitting back from his embrace. “God that was stupid, I don’t know how I’m gonna stay awake the rest of the day.”
“You think that’s bad? I’m gonna be hard all day thinking about the way you looked, shit and the way you cried for me?” Eddie scoffed teasingly, leaning forward to press his lips to hers again.
She sank into his kiss easily, the tension fading from her body. Before she could get too wrapped up in him she pulled away sharply, “Hey, no, you can’t trick me. We need to get up, and you need to go to class, because I swear to God, Munson, if you fail and need to go to summer school and fuck up our plans… Let’s just say eternity will be a little bit shorter for you.”
“I know, I know,” he grumbled, “Bratty little thing,” he huffed to himself, putting his hands on her hips. He lifted her off him with a groan, quickly covering her exposed cunt with her underwear before giving it a quick tap, making her jump. “Gotta keep that in baby, don’t wanna be making a mess during chemistry class, now do you?”
“I can’t believe I’m in love with you,” she rolled her eyes, lifting herself off his lap with shaky legs.
He hummed smugly before grinning, “But you are,” he mocked her, pulling his jeans and boxers back up around his hips.
“I can take it back,” she shrugged, hiding the smirk on her face as he gasped in mock outrage.
“You said the words, sweetheart, you pledged yourself to me. You knew the consequences,” he smiled, dropping to his knees in front of her. She flushed seeing him stare up at her, big brown eyes full of love and adoration.
“My Beren,” she smiled softly, threading her fingers into his curls, and she wasn’t sure his smile could get any wider.
“I should have known, my pet doesn’t miss a detail, not even when she’s low on blood flow to her brain and fucked out,” he grinned, kissing the skin above the strip of lace. “But that’s right, angel. You’re the Luthien to my Beren.”
He grabbed her leg, shifting her weight to balance on one foot as he lifted the other, slipping her shorts up. His nimble fingers tying the ribbons to sit flush against her thighs. “Thank you, my love.”
“Anytime, sweetheart,” he beamed at her, standing up to his full height. “Now, we’ve got a couple minutes. How about I help you hobble to class?”
“I would be eternally grateful,” she rolled her eyes, “Seeing as you’re the reason I won’t be able to walk across the stage at graduation next week.”
“Not my fault my dick is so big,” he shrugged with a smirk, making her choke as she glared at him. “Aw, my pet is choking for me and my cock isn’t even in your mouth.”
Whatever response she had died on her tongue as he lifted her off the ground at the blinding smile on his face, his hand held out to her. She couldn’t fight her own smile as she took it, strolling out of the theater room out into the hall as the bell rang. 
He walked her all the way to her chemistry classroom, her backpack slung over his shoulder and her hand in his. He pulled her to a stop just outside the door, crowding her against an empty stretch of lockers.
She felt her cheeks warm as he stared down at her, leaning against the doorframe. He opened his mouth to say something but she cut him off with a kiss and a breathless, “I love you.”
“I love you too, princess. I’ll meet you here in an hour,” he smiled softly, pressing one last kiss to her head before turning around and sauntering toward Mrs. O’Donnel’s classroom.
She didn’t make it 5 steps before Nancy’s voice rang out behind her. “Why are you walking like that?”
“I have no idea what you’re—“
“Did you really skip first period to fuck Munson?” She deadpanned, making her smirk. “I love you, but you’re disgusting.”
“You have no idea…” she trailed off, taking her seat. Nancy simply rolled her eyes and opened her textbook. After a moment of silence she turned to Nancy with a wry grin. “So do you wanna know what happened?”
Nancy slammed her textbook shut with a snap, a small smile on her face, “Alright, I guess you can tell me everything.”
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tenrose · 2 years
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So my reading drought is really over, I've read several books in the past six months, which mean I'm ready.
I'm back on my bullshit.
The Stormlight Archive.
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entitled-fangirl · 2 months
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Luck. (P2)
Cregan Stark x reader; Robb Stark x reader
Summary: the reader finds herself back with Cregan, and she's beginning to feel something for the past Wolf of the North.
Warnings: unwanted advances, talk of gore, consensual kissing that leads to the start of... some other stuff
Part 1, Part 3
Masterlist
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Two weeks back with Robb, and it seemed that she was beginning to forget about the interactions with Cregan entirely.
She had hit her head, after all. Maybe her mind had simply messed with her. 
Robb had noted that something was amiss with her, but he knew better than to pry. When she was ready, perhaps she'd come to him.
"The History of the Wolf. That's an ancient book, that is." Robb mused with a grin as he entered the library.
She turned her head and snapped the book shut in surprise. "Oh… I… I had no idea."
Robb's smile grows and he walks to her, "Interested in Stark history, are you?"
Her face showed a look as if she'd been caught in a crime. "I… I just wish to know more about you and your house is all." 
"That's admirable," Robb said. He leaned forward and kissed her cheek, his stubble scraping her as he did so.
"You must shave," she said instinctively with a laugh. "It is like rubbing sand across my face, Robb."
He chuckled. It was the first time in two weeks that she had jested with him like she had before that day in the Godswood. He loved her most like this. 
He brought at hand to his face, "Shave? Or perhaps I shall grow it into a great beard!"
She laughed and took his face in her hand, "Only when I am long gone will you have a beard, Stark."
He tilted his head playfully and a tint came to his eyes, "Or perhaps I will just make you watch the hairs grow by the day."
Her hands moved to his chest with a playful shove, "Don't torture me so!"
His smirk grew, "I will torture you how I see fit, my love."
"You shan't catch me then!"
Abandoning the book in her hands, she began to sprint from the library. 
Robb watched her go with a playful grin before willing his legs to run as well.
She held her skirt up in one hand, rounding each corridor half—hazardly. 
Robb had longer legs, but he had to admit she was a quick little thing.
She made the mistake of turning around once to see where he was, only to find him a few paces behind. 
She let out a surprised laugh, and quickly set herself on track again. 
Even as they ran passed the staff, the servants paid no heed.
The Lord and Lady of Winterfell were much in love, and seeing such things were common. 
Finally down one corridor, she looked over her shoulder. 
She had managed just a bit of distance from Robb.
She grinned wickedly as she rounded the corner from him.
Into a stone wall it seemed.
She fell onto the ground from the force.
"Gods, my love," a voice commented.
Cregan Stark.
He knelt down and quickly brought a hand to the back of her head. He was holding back a chuckle, "That was quite a hit. Are you alright?"
She nodded quickly, "Fine." Her hand came up to her forehead, "Just fine."
"Let's get you up then," he chuckled. "I can't have the staff whispering of why the Lord and Lady were on the dirt ridden floor of the corridor." 
He helped her up, keeping a hand under one arm to guarantee her balance. When she was indeed balanced, he let go, "Running from Brandon, I assume? A game of some sorts?"
She took a few steps back to look down the corridor she had just run down.
Robb was gone. 
"Yes," she lied. "I'm to be hiding."
"Well," he smiled. "I can't have him catching you, can I?" He held out his arm for her to take.
With one last look to the place Robb had once stood, she took Cregan's arm.
After an hour or two of enjoying the other's company over a light lunch, Cregan gave a light sigh and stood from the chair. "I must attend to the people. I shall come collect you-"
She reached out and grabbed his hand, "May I accompany you?"
"You wish to… accompany me out?" He was a bit shocked from her request.
"Please, my lord. I truly wish to."
That seemed to make something wash over Cregan. He blinked suddenly and nodded, "Get in something warmer. There's quite a heavy chill out there."
The two had journeyed out of the Winterfell walls. 
Cregan had promised to help a farmer days before, and was now making true to his promise. 
A Stark never breaks an oath, after all.
So the two on his horse, as well as some ten men behind them set out to the man's farm. 
The man was welcoming and kind, beyond grateful for the help. He was an older man and held a deep regard for the younger Stark man.
As they entered his home, Cregan grimaced, "What exactly do you believe the problem to be?"
The man shrugged, "I wanted to believe wildlings, my lord. But… wildlings do not kill as viciously as these deaths have been. No man is willing to work for me because of it."
Cregan's eyes wandered over to her, who had distracted herself with the man's dog- a long haired shepherd dog who had no idea that one of the most influential woman in the North was the one scratching behind his ears.
"You said the East side of your land?" Cregan asked.
"Yes, my lord."
"Very well." Cregan turned to his men. "Go saddle up. Have your swords at the ready." He turned to the older man, "You'll lead us there."
The man nodded, "On my honor, my lord."
She stood now, her attention lost from the dog to Cregan.
"No," he began as soon as they made eye contact. "You'll stay here. I'll not have you out in that."
"Cregan," she sighed. "I'll be with you. That's as safe as-"
"-My lady," the older man began. "If I may. I found one of my men without a throat in that field. We shan't have that for our lady."
Cregan nodded along with him, "You're to stay, my love."
She nodded, "That's fine."
"If it helps, my older son should come around soon. He'll keep you company," the older man said. 
She nodded again with a forced smile, "That sounds lovely. I shall remain."
Cregan gave a soft sigh, "Just for a few hours." He pulled her to him and placed a kiss to the crown of her head. 
The man's son did come after an hour or two, walking into his home sweaty and tired.
It took him a while to notice the lady's presence. 
He immediately began to apologize, "Lady Stark. Forgive me… I did not-"
She laughed lightly, "-There is nothing to forgive. I am the stranger in your home, not the other way around."
He nodded. He then took a moment to see her in front of him. "Believe me or not, I've never seen the lady of Winterfell before. And now that I have, I've not seen a pretty lady in all of the North."
His words took her by surprise. "Oh. Those are quite flattering words."
He smiled and shrugged, "I would not lie to a lady. You're lovely. Lord Stark has been blessed by the gods to have you."
"How did you know it was I if you've never seen me?" She asked with a teasing smile.
"Your cloak, my lady." He pointed to it, "Stark sigil on it."
She looked down to indeed to the pin on it with the wolf of Stark on it. "Ah. I see."
"Tell me, my lady, why you are in our home unaccompanied?"
"My husband and his men are with your father dealing with your… problem. In the east field, I believe?"
The man's eyes lit with recognition, "Is he? I had no idea he'd be here today or I would have welcomed him. And accompanied him as well. I do apologize."
She shrugged, "Cregan does not care for propriety. Do not worry yourself."
"Perhaps I may just… keep you company here then until their return?"
She smiled, "I'd like that."
The man, who she had learned was named Johnathan Glover, was lovely at first. Easy to converse with, and not overbearing towards her. 
But it quickly shifted. 
He had slowly moved his chair closer to her. His hands would wander. His eyes grew sultry. 
And soon, she was becoming uncomfortable. 
"Something wrong, my lady?" He asked. 
"No. Worried for Cregan, is all."
"You seem so tense." He sighed. Johnathan stood up and rounded her chair to stand behind her. His hand moved to her shoulders and she immediately tensed more. 
"You need to relax," he whispered in her ear. He began to massage her shoulder, pushing a little too harshly into her shoulder blades. 
"He… he will return at any moment," she had tried to reason. 
The man smiled, "I know."
A kiss was placed on her neck. 
She froze in place for a moment. 
This man would die at Cregan's hand. 
Robb was a merciful man, but the man's payment would have been just the same under his watch.
"Stop," she commanded.
"This is what I'm speaking of," the man continued with another kiss to her neck, "So tense."
She moved to stand, but he held her down by her shoulders.
The door swung open suddenly and Cregan stood in the doorway. 
Bloody and caked in dirt, Cregan Stark stood with a set jaw at the sight before him. 
She stood this time, managing to get away from the man's hands and goes to Cregan, "Are you hurt?"
But his eyes didn't move from Johnathan's. His voice was low, "I'm fine." His gloved hands covered in grime grabbed her wrist. "Let's go."
He pulled her from the home with no words uttered to anyone except a whisper to one of his men. The man nodded and moved into the house as the Starks left. 
"I leave you to slay wolves and yet I had left you in the jaws of one," Cregan huffed as he pulled off his boots. 
"It is alright. I am fine, Cregan." She tried to reason.
"No. No, do not give me pity. I left you alone there. I should have known better."
She sighed as she began to pull at her corset strings. "You could not have known that. You were tending to your people, as you should."
Cregan paused at her words, his hands gripping the bottom of his tunic. "I should be tending to you."
She pulled off her corset with a tug, "Then do so."
His eyes darkened as his eyes roamed over her body, "So I shall."
Cregan neared her, carefully and slowly pulling her various garments from her until she was left in nothing but her shift. 
He smiled and let his hands grip her waist, "You are a Stark." His thumbs traced lightly, "I can't have others believing otherwise."
She stepped a bit closer, nearing her face with his, "I will always be a Stark."
He leaned in the rest of the way, connecting their lips in a soft kiss.
But he paused for moment, "I'm filthy, my love. Perhaps we should wait-"
But she had pulled him to her, cutting him off with a kiss once more.
The kiss was everything that Cregan wasn't- soft, delicate, careful, and needy. 
He let out a soft groan when she pulled the hair at the back of his neck. 
Cregan led the two towards the bed, carefully placing her on the furs. Only then did their lips part, and his began to trace down her face. His voice was soft as he spoke, "I'll banish any trace of that man from you."
She hummed as he kissed down her neck, exactly where the man had kissed her only hours before. But unlike then, she was completely relaxed under Cregan's gaze. 
She could feel his smile against her neck. 
"May I have you tonight, my love?" He asked softly.
She paused her thoughts for a moment. 
She was stuck in time with Cregan. Her husband. 
Was it wrong to Robb?
He noted her hesitation and pushed himself up to look at her, "Don't fret about it. I won't be upset with you."
Her hesitation continued.
He nodded and one of his hands wandered down her body, "May I pleasure you, at least?"
He wanted to…
She felt herself nod before she could register why.
His smile was bright, "Thank you, my love."
Much like Cregan himself, his kisses became calculated and neat. He did nothing on a whim. The kisses began to trail down her body, over her clothing.
When they reached lower, he grabbed her thighs and pulled her legs up. 
A final look into her eyes, "You're sure?"
Another nod from her, "Please, Cregan."
His hand began to pull her thin shift up, "Of course, pretty."
With her shift stretched across her thighs, she couldn't see Cregan once he disappeared behind it. His touch on her thighs left for a moment.
She closed her eyes and waited for the feeling to begin.
But instead she felt a cold chill run down her. 
And the sound of the door opening. 
Her eyes shot open. 
Robb ran in, panting. She paused when he saw her and his jaw dropped a bit. 
His beautiful wife in nothing but her shift, legs open on the furs of their bed. 
"So, this is where you ran off to, is it?" He grinned. 
When she didn't answer from shock, he continued, "I don't know how you managed this so quickly, but you shall hear no complaint from me." He stepped toward her like a predator, "My wife just waiting for me to catch her? So eagerly waiting on me?"
Robb approached the foot of the bed. He grabbed the top of her thighs, "Well, guess what, my love?" He pulled her down the bed and to him. His voice lowered, "I've caught you."
"You have." She finally managed to pant out. 
His eyes roamed over her completely, "So pretty," he muttered. "And all mine." He caressed her face, "Who do you belong to?"
"I…" she paused, thrown off by his question. 
His voice became a heated growl, "Who do you belong to, love?"
"The… the Wolf of the North." She whispered to him.
He grinned, "Yes, you do."
But she couldn't help but remember the feeling of Cregan's hands on her not only moments ago.
...................................................................
A/N: I think I'm about to start doing some Aemond x reader stuff- comment if you want on that tag list! Or the tag list for this fic since I'm guessing I'll be doing a part 3
Taglist: @rlblackbarbie, @rebeccawinters
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hisfavegiri · 6 months
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You’re Mine - Aegon II Targaryen x Sister!Reader
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Warning : typical inscet Targaryen, breeding kink, breast slapping, rough sex, jealous Aegon.
Summary: On Aegon's name day, you spent time dancing with everyone. But there is someone who is always watching you
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You laughed out loud while dancing to the song, you deliberately didn't accept invitations from all the lords because you didn't really like it.
Your mother and father are watching you with smiles on their faces, as is your grandfather who is sitting at the head of the royal table.
"Good evening princess, I hope you enjoy the party"
You turned your head and found Brandon Tyrell standing behind you, you smiled and nodded slowly.
"Good evening Brandon, yes I really enjoyed this party"
"Glad to know that princess, may I ask you to dance?"
You hesitated but then you accepted his invitation and started dancing with him. Without you realizing it, Aegon had been watching you intently.
"He won't stop dancing with her if you just look at them from here" Aemond's voice made Aegon turn towards him.
Aemond was right, but Aegon was not in the mood to dance. but seeing you laughing and dancing with other people makes his blood boil. Then Aegon stood up making your mother look at him with a confused look.
"I'll be right back," he said and stepped towards you, his steps were very heavy but also fast.
"So Brandon, do any of the women in this palace catch your attention?"
"So far I have only looked at you princess, there is no other woman as beautiful as you"
You laughed at his words, until the sound of a cough distracted you. "Evening Sir Brandon, can I dance with my sister?"
You looked at Aegon in shock, then Brandon nodded and walked away from the two of you. now you and Aegon started dancing
“What did you talk to him about? I saw you were very cheerful and laughing out loud earlier. “You could clearly hear the dislike and jealousy in his tone, you just smiled and shook your head.
“Why do you want to know? It doesn't matter Aegon” you said quietly, you really liked it when he saw him jealous.
Aegon snorted and squeezed your waist, his eyes staring at you sharply and deeply.
"Don't play with me sister, you know I don't like it when people touch anything that's mine."
You shivered when he whispered his last words, your bodies were so close together now. you could see many eyes watching the two of you, including your father and mother.
you heard Aegon chuckle softly, “did the dragon get your tongue darling?”
“Aegon, everyone’s starting at us” you whisper back to him, and he looks around then he smiles and he looks back at you. "Let them, so everyone know that you are mine"
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Once alone, Aegon closed the door behind them, trapping you within his gaze. His voice was commanding, laced with possessive desire. "You looked stunning out there, sister. But remember this, you're mine, and no one else's." Aegon caressing your neck while whispering close to your ears.
You felt a shiver run down your spine at the intensity in Aegon eyes. "Aegon, what are you trying to do?," you protested, but your words were cut off as he moved closer, his proximity overwhelming you.
And as he stepped in front of large mirrors in his chambers, he stared into the reflection looking back at your silhouette. your hair was messy, your face was glimmering underneath his sweat and as he moved away your long and silky hair. Then he release your dress slowly by murmurs his breath afterwards he is revealing your body in naked.
He lets his eyes go wide and his expression softens for full persuasive effect, you huffs, leaning in again. Then, Aegon presses their lips together. He’s firm, making the most of the brief moment afforded to you. He parts his lips and lets out a soft sigh before finally pulling away, your face a shade or two redder than when she had first leaned in.
Aegon reaches out let you to sit between his spread going slow to make sure his sister is comfortable with the new position. Aegin hands slide down your sides and he tenses as they brush past your core, “Ng— Aegon..”
Aegon other hand slowly tracing down from your lips and trickles through your naked breast. You silently admires Aegon’ broad chest and toned shoulder as you casts your full attention on him. You can feel your cheeks slowly heat up as you senses Aegon bores his focus on your figure as well.
“All mine.”
Aegon low voice breaks the silence, magically captivating you and makes your hand wander to touch his collarbones, expression lightens up in fascination despite your reddening face. You lowers your palm to caress his stomach, then up to his chest and lets it lingers there. Aegon lips curl up into a gentle smile at the action. He remains in that position, enjoying the warm touch of his sister.
Then you squealed softly as Aegon pulled you to his bed, you both laughed softly and you kissed his lips. You looked at Aegon's face and stroked his cheeks, he looked at you.
“On your stomach, now” You sulked and reluctantly laying down. Aegon slowly stroked your bottom, smirking a bit. You shivered at the sensation, a whimper leaving your lips.
“You've been a bad girl, haven't you love? talking to other man, making me jealous” Aegon asked, playing with his sister ass. You reluctantly nodded your head. "Y-yes I have..." you muttered out quitely.
Aegon chuckled. "You know what bad girls get? They get punishments? And you're about to get yours." you shuddered, bringing your ass up for him viewing pleasure. He groaned. "Eager as always, aren't we?" He teased, before unexpectedly spanking you. You yelped, tears threatening to leave your eyes from the force.
Aegon affectionately rubbed your behind and gave you another slap. "One." He counted. He spanked her once more. "Two." Another slap echoed through the room. "Three." He said. By the tenth spank, you was a whining mess, begging him to stop. Aegon picked you up and sat you on his lap. He kissed your cheek and rubbed your thigh. "There there dove, it's all done." He said, ending his words with a peck on your lips.
Then he lays you down and climbs on top of you, kissing your whole face gently until he stops at your lips and kisses them softly. “let me take care off you love” as he looked at your bare body on his bed.
You absolutely never fails to leave Aegon awestruck by your ethereal attractiveness, especially when you’re underneath him without any fabrics concealed your curves. He rotates his hips slightly after his length is fully sunk into her, eliciting an obscene moan from the opposite side.
As their gazes collide, Aegon’s hand discovere new purchase around the smaller's neck and squeezes slightly. Then, he applies additional pressure to the sides, feeling your throat constricts and your breath hitches down. After a moment, Aegon lets go and picks up a steady pace. His palm drifting to cradle your jaw before dragging his thumb across your lower tier. Under Aegon’s fingers, your lips flutter with warm  breath as you basks in the pleasure.
"Fuck i love the way your walls squeeze me, the way you taking me so well"
You couldn't help but sigh because his pace became more faster also becoming hard and Aegon kept hitting the spot that made your toes curl. He smirked, when looking at you who's holding down at the sheet. You threw your head back as Aegon’s kept on pounding into you. You shut your eyes as the knot inside your stomach grew tighter, signaling that you was about to come.
"Look at me baby, look at me when I'm fuck you good" You looked at his eyes and bite your lower lips, His thrusts were relentless, his pace was brutal. He leaning down to kiss your neck. You whined when he hit that certain spot, she could feel the smug smile against your neck.
"That's the spot huh?" you can't even answer, your eyes are roll back from the pleasure.
"Only my cock that will keep filling you, and i will remind you that everyday." He said, and continued rubbing your swollen clit. you let out a whine, "Ngh—yes yes please ..." you replies breathlessly, squeezing your eyes shut as Aegon keep pistoning his hips toward yours.
"I'll fuck you whenever I want, wherever I want, and will breed you over and over again. My seed will fill your womb, and grow in your belly. I can't wait." Aegon growled with every thrust. “gonna make you swollen with my babies”
your mind goes crazy as you imagine you swell with his child, letting everyone know that you only belong to him. “yes yes yes, please”
Aegon chuckled. "make everyone now that you’re mine, just mine, All mine" He says while slapping your breast lightly, which made you moan.
“ohh P-please..." you rasped. He groaned, he was near his peak.
"Shit, I'm close baby" He said. Your body began to shake with unimaginable pleasure.
"Fuck, now make a mess for me. Cum for me" you let out a high pitched moan as you reached your peak, thrn he thrusted a few more times to make sure that he’s seeds is deep inside you "now you can sleep love" he chuckled and kissed her forehead.
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— tag list : @danytar
let me now if you want to be on my tag list for the new story 🙌🏻😉
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rise-my-angel · 4 months
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More headcannons about the Starks being doms!!! Pleaseeeee!!!!!!!!!!!
Okay starting off saying, all Stark men are doms, just in different ways. But let's start from the eldest down.
Brandon Stark:
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Easily a hard dom. He was short tempered and described as very distinctly as having "wolfs blood". He loved fighting and always kept his sword sharp and with him. I have a distinct theory that he was a power bottom, preferring women on top of him but without actually giving them that control. Probably didn't talk a lot, and when he did was just purposely filthy. He also definitly liked to take things rough, considering Barbrey Dustin says this about him.
"I still remember the look of my maiden’s blood on his cock the night he claimed me. I think Brandon liked the sight as well. A bloody sword is a beautiful thing."
That is some hard dom behavior right there.
Eddard Stark:
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If there was a Stark who was closest to a switch then the others, it would be Ned. But I think that is more because Ned is just rather vanilla in comparison. There is zero reason to believe Catelyn likes being in charge in the bedroom, but I also think Ned is far more of a soft dom. Not very talkative, probably more intimate, and he doesn't push Catelyns limits. But he does in fact, go hard.
The man gave her five children, and Catelyn literally implies in the first book that Ned fucked her so hard she was in that afterglow pain only a man who goes rough can give.
"Her loins still ached from the urgency of his lovemaking. It was a good ache."
Submissive men do not fuck so urgently they leave their wife laying in bed sore as fuck from getting pounded. Ned is probably the least kinky of the present Starks, but certainly still a soft dom.
Benjen Stark:
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We see he has a very dominant personality, how easily he takes control of a conversation and establishes himself as someone to be listened too, but considering he clearly joined the Nights Watch at an early age, it's safe to say Benjen grew up a man whom was just not involved in sexual encounters.
If he did fuck, he'd likely be more of a soft dom with a side that likes to tease and be playful, but I assume he's either never or had very little sexual encounters to say for sure what he'd be like as one. But in his everyday personality, he certainly commands authority when necessary which is proof of dominance enough for me.
Robb Stark:
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If there is the biggest example of a hard dom, it's Robb. This man takes you like a goddamn wolf. Flipping you onto your hands and knees, shoving you further into the furs of his bed, going fast enough you can't catch your breathe and rough enough that you feel him well into the next day. He will yank you up to his chest and purposely mutter depraved shit in your ear, mock you for your pleasure knowing it works you up more when he does it. Calling you derogatory sexual terms in bed to keep you in that subspace (he doesnt say them to hurt your feelings you know its all part of a kind of rougher roleplay essentially).
We've seen him take command in every situation. He knows how to seize control of a conversation even with opponents as difficult as Jaime Lannister. He doesn't falter, knowing he has everything in his favour and is sure of himself. Putting men twice his size like Greatjon Umber in his place but still managing to secure his upmost dedicated loyalty at the same time.
Robb probably the most forgets to be romantic in bed, but he makes up for it any other time. It's just in bed, when Robb is fucking you, he is rough and mean. You both know its with love and you both like it, but he is a true hard dom.
Jon Snow:
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If his brother is the definition of a hard dom, Jon is the definition of a soft dom. Jon is incapable of being mean to you, truly being mean. He'll never whisper filth for the sake of it, never try to mock or embarrass you, will never use anything close to something derogatory towards you in what he calls you. Jon is passionate, raw, and very intimate about sex with you, and he needs a lot of both skin to skin contact and he needs to be able to kiss you as much as he wants.
But, he is also very controlling. More then he realizes. Jon is unpredictable in bed, because what he wants varies wildly. Sometimes he takes you slowly, but goes for hours to the point he is still inside you as you pass out, which he keeps going. Sometimes, he is rougher then he even realizes. Jon leaves bruises all the time from how tightly his hands grab at you alone, and he goes rough to the point sometimes you almost are pushed too far, but Jon somehow always ends up making you crave it.
You basically will never choose how the night goes. Jon always controls you in bed, and you let him. It works him up to an endless degree that you so completely trust him with you to the point he basically owns your autonomy in bed. He can convince you to do anything knowing you'd let him, and he won't give you what you want because he knows your needs and limits better then you do.
Jon is soft and loving with you in bed, but he is a dom through and through. Jon alone is the one in total control in the bedroom and he will always keep it that way.
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mickandmusings · 4 days
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indifferent
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pairing: jake 'hangman' seresin x f!reader
word count: 2.4k
summary: a year ago, the sight of jake seresin would've sent her into a flurry of tears. now, as she stares at him chatting up the bleach-blonde at the bar, all she feels is a deep hatred for the man who charmed the room with his stupid texan accent and encapsulating green eyes.
warnings: 18+ MDNI!!! seriously, this is actually a lot more smutty than usual for me; this is my first attempt at more serious smut so it's not good but we're trying new things!; angsty yet fluffy; exes to enemies to lovers (these two hate each other); no use of Y/N; sort of mean!jake, but not really; reader is described as wearing a skirt
based on megan moroney's 'indifferent'
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As she walks into the Hard Deck, she's convinced the universe is doing everything it can to royally fuck her over.
She'd hoped for a nice night with some random but handsome Naval personnel, make him pay for drinks, give him a rather steamy and heavy make out session, and leave before it can go any further. When she enters from the beach side doors, her eyes scan the room for...Brayden? Brandon? Brian? She couldn't really remember the name attached to his Tinder profile, only remembering the beauty of a Bronco in his pictures, but he wasn't important. What was really important was the spine-chilling hate crawling up her chest as she spots the khaki-uniform-clad blonde at the bar.
Jake fucking Seresin.
Her eyes narrow, knowing her night had already soured, and it hadn't even started. She and Jake had a....history, of sorts. By history she meant deep-seeded rage and hatred for one another after a failed relationship. A year ago, she had been in a mutually exclusive relationship with the aforementioned Lieutenant Seresin, well, one she had thought had been mutually exclusive. Until she found herself worrying and fretting every time he went out with his friends. And her gut had been right, because only six months into the relationship she'd had the dreaded 'hey girl, is this your man?' message sitting in her Instagram DM. When he came home that night and had denied it all, vehemently, she might add, it had escalated to a screaming match and her storming out of the house. From that moment on, she hadn't even bothered to check-in on what he was doing in his life. She hated Jake Seresin, and as much as she told herself she was indifferent to what he was doing with the bleach-blonde giggling next to him at the bar, she knew her skin itched to ruin his night.
Instead, she decided to be the bigger person. In her direct line of vision, she found an empty table in the corner and made her way towards it. She had passed the bar successfully, and she was merely inches away from taking her claim on the seat when his southern accent tumbles into her ears.
"Didn't expect to see you here, darlin'."
Fuck me now.
She takes a deep breath before turning around meeting his tall figure. He hadn't changed, still muscular and broad, big green eyes and well-kept blonde hair. She rolls her eyes, tapping her nails against the table nonchalantly. She didn't care about him, and she would not fall victim to his charms-never again.
"What do you want, Seresin?"
His eyes widen, a shit-eating grin creeping on his face as he raises his hands in mock surrender.
"Damn, sweetheart, I'm just sayin' hello."
"Yeah I bet. Hey, Jake. Now, you better scurry back to your girl at the bar before she gets scooped up by one of your little Navy buddies."
He looks back at Coyote's girlfriend he had been casually catching up with, certainly not flirting, but if it riled up the girl in front of him, well, then he'd play into it. Jake shrugs, sliding his hands into his pockets.
"Not too worried about it, not really interested."
Yeah, I bet.
"So what do you want with me? Because you're not here to play catch up, Seresin."
Jake takes a good look at her, she's obviously here for a date. Her outfit is casual enough for the bar, but accents her curves enough to attract some appeal. Even enough to make his own pants feel tight. Whoever she was here with was one damn lucky man, no matter how jealousy burned at Jake's chest.
"You look good tonight."
She audibly scoffs, rolling her eyes at the compliment.
"If you're here to grovel about what happened, save it. You should've done that a year ago."
Jake bristles, annoyed. Their blow-up fight had been a simple case of misunderstanding. He hadn't been flirting with the girl at the bar that night, he'd been helping her escape a creep who had been following her around the bar. He had to admit, the photo had been a little...compromising, when taken out of context. She'd never even given him a chance to explain himself before blowing it out of the water. They'd both yelled at one another, not bothering to hear either side of the other's statements. She left full of shaking anger, and he hadn't seen her since, until now.
"Maybe I could've groveled if you would've listened to me for two damn minutes."
She swings her head around, her own feelings bristling as she raises her voice.
"Listen to you?! The evidence was pretty damn convincing, Jake!"
He breathes deeply, cutting his green eyes to Phoenix standing at the pool table. The brunette lifts a brow in his direction. Jake knows this is going to escalate quickly, both of their tempers flaring, and for the sake of not ruining his reputation in front of his coworkers, he grips her arm and takes her outside to the parking lot.
"What the fuck are you doing?! Get your hands off of me!"
As they approach the spot where his truck is parked, he lets go of her and she crosses her arms.
"You're yellin' at me like some kind of crazy in there. My teammates are in there-"
"Oh! God forbid the great Hangman is embarrassed in front of his friends."
She's angry, flaring with an annoyance so great she's blind to what she's saying. Jake, a man known for his ego, seems to flare in the same manner. His voice is biting when he speaks.
"That's not what I meant, and you know it!"
"I swear to God, you must get off on the idea of pissing me off!"
They're loud, yelling over one another about trivial things-her being here on a date, him flirting at the bar with another girl, stupid things that didn't amount to much, but nearly anything could fuel the fire between them. Both were still ridiculously attracted to one another, despite everything, and their feelings ran deep. Jake's face is red-between the heat of California and his searing annoyance, he had begun to work up a sweat. Not to mention how incredibly hot she looked when she was pissed. Their voices could not get any louder at one another, spouting off any detail they could think of. Finally, it draws to a head when she spits out her next sentence, her tone biting.
"You know, I fucking hate you, Jake Seresin."
Jake chuckles dryly, no humor lacing his tone.
"That's a harsh claim comin' from the girl givin' me fuck me eyes."
She recoils, crossing her arms over her chest. She knows he's right, despite her annoyance with him, she knows there's still a fire between them, one she tries to swallow despite her blood burning and her heart racing.
"You wish, asshole."
"Yeah, I do."
His response shocks her, his tone softer than before, but his eyes nearly predatory. He can feel his usual roomy uniform grow tight, his jaw clenched tightly. Her eyes dart between his own as they glimmer in the moonlight, and she finds herself unable to find a retort. No worries, Jake's voice oozes with charm and seduction.
"What? Cat got your tongue all of a sudden, darlin'? You sure were all talk only a few seconds ago."
"Y-You don't mean that."
Her voice comes out small and unsure, her throat feeling dry and her entire being throbbing with the tingle of desire.
"Don't mean what?"
He comes closer, eyes never falling from her own, his calloused hands coming around her hips. He almost expects her to flinch out of his touch, but she lets him hold her against his own hips. She can see and feel the evidence of his own arousal, the usual light color of his eyes dark with lust.
"You think I'd lie about wantin' you? You're a damn fool if you think that, I've thought about you since the night you ran out my door."
She stills, her heart racing as she manages to form a thought.
"Y-You cheated on me, I'm not falling for this."
She goes to turn from his hold, but his grip on her hips is tight.
"No."
His voice is firm, demanding.
"That ain't what happened. You just never gave me a second to explain it. So I'm gonna talk, and you're gonna listen, got it?"
His voice was serious, but he was never intimidating or scary. Jake might be an asshole, but he'd never lay a hand on her, not like that.
"I wasn't flirtin' with that girl, never did, not once. That girl asked me to help her, and whoever sent you pictures of us got it all out of context. I might be a dick but I wouldn't do that to you, and I thought you knew that."
She looks at him, conflicted between wanting to jump his bones or punch him square in the jaw. She settles on simply asking a question.
"So why did you never try to call me? O-Or text me to explain?"
"Would you have listened?"
She already knew the answer to that.
"No."
He raises an eyebrow, nodding his head in a knowing look. Both halves of the couple are quiet for a minute, not knowing where to go from here. She's the first to break the silence.
"So, what does this mean?"
Jake shrugs.
"Nothin' if you don't want it to. But if you want me like I want you right now, I'd be okay with that, too."
The heat-filled tension is almost palpable, both of their chests heaving with barely contained want. Jake wants nothing more than to throw her over his shoulder and take her in the backseat of his truck, but this isn't his decision. It's hers-she has to decide if he's what she wants.
She cocks her head to the side before looking back up at him.
"And if I do want you like you want me?"
He feels himself twitch in his godforsaken uniform.
"Then you say the word and I'll make you forget whatever little shit you came here to meet."
In all honesty, she already had forgotten about...Bryson? Fuck, she really couldn't remember the poor guy's name.
"I swear to God, Seresin, if you don't touch me I'll lose my fucking mind."
Jake grins, pulling her flush against him.
"Well we can't have that can we, darlin'?"
His lips meet her own with little warning, a frenzy of clashing teeth and fumbling hands. Jake's hands meet on her back dangerously low, before he's placing his palms flat on her ass, pulling her up and her legs wrap around his waist. Her body flames at even the smallest stimulation, and when his hard-on meets her core, she lets out a provocative moan. Jake is going blind with an unbridled, insatiable want, and he wants-no-needs her, now.
"Baby," he grunts as her hips roll into his own. "You gotta stop that or I'm gonna take you right here in this goddamn parkin' lot."
She pulls back from his gaze, giving him a look as she breathes heavily, her lips plump from his fervor.
"When have we ever been above fucking in your back seat?"
Jake shakes his head and slams open the back door of his truck, wasting zero time tossing her lightly against the leather seats. Once, not so long ago, she would've given him shit for his ridiculous truck, but in this moment, with nothing but pure lust in her eyes, she was thankful for his spacious back seats and tinted windows. He slams the door behind him, and effectively clicks the lock attached to his keys before tossing them into the passenger side seat, his hands now free to grasp the supple flesh of her bottom. His lips return to the open plain of her neck, and she sighs, knowing he was headed towards the sweet spot in the junction of her neck and jaw. He finds it within seconds, and she chokes on a gasp. Her hands find purchase in his blonde locks, a lot less soft from the gel, but still comfortable. Jake groans against her collarbone from the sensation alone, his hips subconsciously thrusting to meet against her own. His lips travel down to the exposed top of her chest before he pulls back, tossing his uniform top and undershirt, dog tags dangling down to brush against her skin. He looks down at her with his hands grasping her hips.
"You sure about this?"
She nods, she'd never been more sure.
"I need your words, baby."
God, this man was going to kill her.
"Yeah, I'm sure, Jake."
In one swift move, he's yanking down the skirt on her hips, her undergarments with it. His knee separates her legs, leaving her completely exposed to his eyes alone. He shakes his head and tuts, smiling the infamous Hangman grin.
"As beautiful as the day I lost 'er."
He darts back down between her legs before beginning to ravish her completely. The next long stretch of time is spent with both of them completely lost in one another. The sound of skin meeting skin fills the air, mingling with cries of pleasure, mangled gasps, and the whispers of each other's names. By the time they both fall against one another after their heights, they're panting and sweating, completely sated and exhausted. The air is quiet, only their heavy breaths between them. Jake is the first to speak after a bout of nothingness.
"Who were you here to meet with anyhow? Hard Deck doesn't seem like somewhere you'd come for shits and giggles."
She takes a breath, rolling over to lie on his chest, tucking her head under his chin as his large hand grips her hip, pulling her closer.
"Met some guy on Tinder. Brayden? Bryson? I don't remember, just saw a really nice Bronco in his pictures. Seemed cute enough for a casual Friday night."
Jake's eyes widen, he moves his head to his hand, propping himself up to look down at her.
"Bradley, maybe?"
She shrugs.
"Yeah, maybe, why?"
"He got a mustache, lots of funky patterned shirts?"
She furrows her brow, wondering how he knew.
"Yeah, why?"
Jake groans as he lays back down, running a hand over his face. She giggles, leaning up to prop her head on his chest.
"What?"
Jake grins.
"I can't believe I was about to lose you to Bradshaw of all people."
She listens to him chuckle, but she doesn't return the action. She shakes her head, pushing blonde hair out of his face.
"You won't lose me, not again."
-
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crazyoffher · 1 year
Text
ALL I NEED.
jenna ortega x fem!reader
summary: a crew-mate’s lingering eyes on your secret girlfriend sends you into a jealous fit.
warnings: smut (18+) — oral + fingering (j receiving), short-lived dom!jenna + sub!r turned into dom!r + sub!jenna, jealousy, begging.
word amount: 3100+
a/n: idk how to feel about this
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“Do you see the way he’s looking at her?” As you gaped at the sight of Jenna droning on about something to a crew member almost twice her age, you could only watch from a distance because Jenna was too engrossed in her conversation to notice that his eyes were lurching over her body.
“He looks like he’s about to take her right there, right now.” You slapped Mason’s chest, pushing him away slightly at the incline of his joke. He and Jasmin were the only two on the Scream cast who knew about your lingering “crush” on Jenna, and the fact that Jenna and Mason had a kiss scene coming up didn’t exactly help your nerves.
“If it helps, I’ll kiss her a second less than I’m supposed to.” You pushed him again, farther this time, and he only chuckled at you before gazing his eyes back at Jenna and the crew member, his name Brandon. “You can intervene on that.”
“Yeah, and how will I do that?”
He thought about it for a second, his eyes lighting up once he figured out an excuse for you to give, and you could only picture a lightbulb above his head as well. “Tell her that one of the producers needs her for some line changes!”
“And what do I do when I tell her that one of the producers isn’t actually looking for her?” That’s where you got him stumped, mouth gaping open before closing while in thought. His phone buzzed, and he eyed the message he received before shoving the phone down his pocket and turning to you. “I have to go to makeup for the next scene, but just get her away from him. He’s been staring for too long.”
He patted your back before heading out of the lounge room you were all in. You groaned, your feet trudging toward the two, and you could feel Brandon’s gaze of annoyance as he found you approaching him and Jenna.
“Hey, Jen.” You pronounced the nickname you had for her that you proclaimed nobody else could use, and Jenna would always giggle at the maintenance you had for the nickname.
“(Y/N), we’re actually in a pretty good conversation right now, so if you could just-”
“Well, I’ve come here to interrupt that conversation because one of the producers needs Jenna for line changes. My lady,” You held out your hand to her, bowing slightly, and she laughed at you, taking your hand before saying her goodbyes to Brandon. You tried your absolute hardest not to smirk at his vexed expression.
“Now, can I be honest with you?” You questioned Jenna. She turned to you with furrowed eyebrows and narrowed eyes, visibly confused. “Honest about?”
“Well, the producers don’t actually need you. I just needed to get you away from him.” You only looked forward, feeling that eye contact with Jenna would only make you feel uneasy, but all you got out of her was a giggle.
“I’ve told you countless times, baby, you don’t need to be jealous of anybody. Don’t think I’m oblivious to the way he looks at me.” She halted you, encircling your waist with her arms while resting her chin on your chest and peering up at you.
“Then why do you allow him to look at you like that?” You unraveled her arms from your waist with a hint of spite in your eyes. Jenna didn’t remove her chin from your chest, though, and instead raveled her arms around your shoulders, shooting back, “Why do you allow everyone to think that you only have a crush on me instead of the real truth?”
“For your own sake. You said it yourself; you aren’t comfortable yet with people knowing about us. So much, considering you like to be risky.” You looked up and down the hall you were in, empty but accessible to anybody who could catch you and Jenna in the position that you were in, faces only inches away from kissing.
“I said I didn’t want the public to know; I never said anything about our friends.”
You scoffed and tried to push her away, but her grip on you only tightened. “Please, Mason can’t keep a secret if his life depended on it, and if Brandon found out, he would probably out us because of his own jealousy, even if anybody were to actually believe him.”
Basking in your clear jealousy, Jenna’s fingers tapped against the back of your neck. It sent shivers down your spine; goosebumps rose, and all you could do was gaze down at her as you anticipated her reply. “You’re jealous, and I love it when you’re jealous, though for all the wrong reasons.”
You could only allow her to control you, one hand slithering from your neck to grab your hand, guiding it from her chest down to her hips, stopping just below an area you’ve grown to know as sensitive to your touch.
You groaned. “You asshole,” and with that, you pulled her back by her shoulders into a room that stood behind where the two of you had formerly been, reaching behind Jenna to turn the knob of the door and pushing her into the room. With your foot, you shut the door closed with a bang, your thumb and index fingers grazing the lock to turn it over.
The small room, littered with only a couch, television, and desk, was to be used for actors to go over their lines in solitude if they didn’t find their trailers compatible enough due to outside commotion. You’d be lying if you said you and Jenna hadn’t used the couch for more adult-like themes (and maybe the desk), and you remembered holding back snickers when one of the producers texted the cast group chat, asking whoever was using the room for “inappropriate reasons”, that they would stop.
Immediately, you rushed forward, Jenna’s body colliding with yours with the same goal in mind. Your lips met hers, hands hooking around her waist as you drove your hips into hers with no patience in your strut. She gasped at the feeling of your clothed core raking against hers, your tongue traveling all around her mouth, lips pulling away with a pop but not before you clenched your teeth into her bottom lip, drawing blood.
Jenna sighed in contentment as your lips met her neck, turning the both of you around so that you could sit on the couch, pulling Jenna by her back to sit on your lap with your lips never leaving their place. “I think I need to get you jealous more often.”
“You do that, and I’ll start edging you.” Your lips traveled around her neck, littering her with small hickeys that the makeup crew were going to have a field day covering up. Your lips met her pulse point, drawing a breathy moan out of Jenna. When you started sucking on that area, her hands moved to your chest, grabbing your button-up shirt and pulling it out of your pants, ripping it open, and causing a button or two to fly off the garment. She groaned at the sight of you left in just a white tank top, your breasts pushing up in her direction.
In the scene you had filmed not too long ago, the set took place at a party, your character dressed as an 1800’s businessman for whatever reason, and Jenna’s character was a pirate, leaving her in fishnet stocking and jean shorts that rode up whenever she sat down.
You removed your lips from her neck, replacing her hands with yours, and pushed yourself up to remove the shirt from your body. You caught the eye of a button when you were going to throw the collared shirt on the floor. “You ripped off a button!”
“So?” Jenna’s lips met yours again; her tongue shoved into your mouth while her hands raked from your stomach to your breasts, palming at them through the tank top’s fabrication, blocking her access to the two things she loved the most.
You pulled away from her, tugging at Jenna’s shirt and yanking it over her head, her pirate’s bandana coming off in the process. “You want our relationship to be secret, but you don’t even know the definition of it. Hickeys on your neck, popped buttons on my shirt, and you’re not expecting the crew to get a whiff of what’s going on?”
“Then let them,” her hips bucked at the feeling of your cold hands slithering under her bra, wasting no time in feeling all around her as your fingers clipped onto her nipples, tugging at them and releasing a groan out of Jenna, “let them know that you’re all mine.”
“You know just as well as I do that you don’t mean that.” You removed your hands from their position, placing them on her ass and pulling her up with you before dropping her back on the couch.
You kneeled in her presence, hands gripping her knees as you widened the space in between her legs, her shorts riding up, exposing her tan thighs covered by the stockings. You removed her shorts, unbuttoning them at a fast pace before sliding them off, tugging off her shoes as well in the process. 
You ran your hands through her smooth skin, taking in the sight of Jenna’s perfectly-shaped thighs covered by the stockings, and you’d be lying if you said your mouth didn’t water at the sight. Driving in the sight once more, you moved your hand up to her hip, grabbing the hem of the stockings and taking them off of her, leaving her bottom half in only her underwear. You smirked at the wet patch that sat in the middle of the cloth, your fingers tapping at her thighs.
“Baby, it’s only you thinking that it’s because I’m—oh, shit.” You hushed Jenna by pushing your index finger against her clit, circling the sensitive nub painfully slowly, the friction from her underwear only building up her urge to take you right there and then. “You were saying?
Your head dipped down between Jenna’s legs, moving away from where she needed you the most to kiss and nip at her inner thighs. Your hands moved from their position on her knees, replacing themselves around her thighs and rubbing up and down as you licked at the reddening bite marks you had imbedded into her skin.
“Since you want to be such a bitch,” you moved Jenna’s underwear only slightly, tongue licking at the outline of her cunt, causing her to buck her hips up, “and try to make me jealous with fucking Brandon,” you slid two fingers under the wettening cloth, fingers trailing over her folds, and Jenna gripped the couch with impatience, “then fucking beg for it.”
Her mind completely disregarded your hand in her panties, and her head flew down to meet your gaze. “What?” Despite being possessive and rough, per Jenna’s own needs, in almost all the times you and Jenna had engaged sexually, you never took it to the next level. Until now.
“I know you’re not deaf, Jen. Beg for it.” You repeated, head maneuvering so your nose was brushing against her clothed clit while you spoke in cold breaths, watching Jenna’s thighs clench and unclench at the breeze. You could feel Jenna’s hand slither into your hair, digging her nails into the follicles to try and pull you closer to her, but your head didn’t budge.
You grabbed her hand, pinning it down along with her other hand that was approaching your scalp as well, keeping them tightly still at her sides. You stuck out your tongue, flexing it into a more narrow shape before licking the fabrication that kept Jenna sealed. You flicked one, two, then three kitten-like licks at her nub, urgently removing your hands from her wrists and pinning down her hips that bucked their way up into your face, trying to get a pleasurable sensation but to no use. “I’m not giving you shit until I hear you whine how bad you want this.”
Jenna moved to speak, breathing unevenly, but her words never vocalized themselves because you moved her panties more to the side with your right hand, running your index finger down her throbbing cunt, then back up, all while you watched her facial expressions change at each movement. “Please, (Y/N).”
“Please what?” Your finger stroked itself down her cunt again, this time stopping where you could feel her hole pulse under your touch. She whined, her hips desperately trying to push down into your finger, but your left hand still held a firm grip on her bony frame, your hand pushing down the right side of her hip and your elbow pushing down the left side. “I’m not going to do anything that can remotely get you off until you tell me what you want.”
“Just fuck me!” She groaned out, her face heating up hotter than ever as she caught sight of you staring back at her with such an innocent glint in your eyes. Such innocent eyes could fool anybody unless they saw what you were doing to Jenna, using your approach to somehow make the situation much direr. 
“Fuck me as hard as you can. Please, god, I just want to feel you.” Her whines were loud, letting you know that the producers awareness of such dirty nonsense going on in the room told you that you weren’t at fault, but instead Jenna’s unawareness of how loud she was.
You purred into her center. “There you go, sweetheart.” Your middle finger pushed against your index finger, inserting the two digits into her core. Jenna let out a low groan, basking in the relief of what you had just made her wait for, even if it was her own fault. She’d never blame herself for a halt on her pleasure, even if it was her own fault, and she’d make more than sure to get you back for your teasing later.
You pumped your fingers, letting Jenna get used to the feeling while gradually moving faster to get her going. As you sped up, Jenna’s face morphed into expressions that you could cum from just looking at, letting your mind get to you as you found yourself subconsciously thrusting your hips into the space between Jenna’s legs on the couch.
You stopped your hip movement, eyeing Jenna to see her head sprawled back, mouth agape, and letting out a loud moan when your lips met her clit. Sucking feverishly, you bit down on the sensitive nub to send her a warning, seeing as she managed to roll her hips around your mouth despite your tough grip on her. “Don’t,” was all you muttered before sucking on her clit again, Jenna whining at the vibrations your word sent throughout her cunt.
Jenna could feel the coil in her stomach starting to tighten, the pleasure becoming more unbearable while you attacked her cunt, mouth and tongue swirling and sucking around her clit and two fingers pumping in and out of her. You bit down on her clit again, causing a moan to erupt from her. Jenna’s hands rode up her stomach and up to her chest to palm at her own breasts, eyes shutting at the pleasure build-up, finding herself closer to releasing.
You noticed this; your attack on her clit the same, but you switched up your finger movement, shoving them into her knuckle-deep and curling them, pumping them in and out a couple times before locating her g-spot. You pushed into it, making her yell out your name along with a squeaking whimper. “Fuck! Go faster!”
You did just that, keeping your fingers curled as you grazed her g-spot continuously, her knuckles white, still gripping onto her breasts that were bound to be littered with small bruises soon. “Fuck, I think I’m gonna cum.”
You only hummed, sucking Jenna’s nub harder and watching her body start to twitch, hands leaving their death grip on her breasts to bury in your hair, pulling you into her deeper. “Ugh, don’t stop! I’m gonna-” and with a low moan of your name, the coil in her stomach snapped, her body jolting from her orgasm. You slowed your fingers, uncurling them, and after she had calmed down, pulled them out and gazed at your fingers covered in her slick.
Calmed down from your former jealous rage, you stood up, kneeling over Jenna’s panting frame on the couch to engulf her in a kiss that she immediately reciprocated, her hands flying up to cup your cheeks. Without a word, you took your index finger and put it up to Jenna’s lips, mouth parting without a second thought and you stuck your finger in, mentally groaning at the sensation of her tongue swirling all around your fingers in desperation to taste her own cum.
Popping your finger out of Jenna’s mouth, your eyes never faltered from hers as you stuck your middle finger into your mouth, fighting to roll your eyes back at the taste of her. 
Once more, you two met in a kiss, her arms wrapping around your shoulders to pull you deeper, a goal to pleasure you just as much lingering in her mind.
You felt a buzz at your knee, startling you, and you pulled away from Jenna. “What the-” You moved your knee to the side, Jenna’s phone revealing itself to be the culprit of the odd vibrations. She picked it up, her eyes widening slightly at the messages that littered her phone from the cast group chat, letting her know that shooting was supposed to continue about five minutes earlier, but they couldn’t shoot without Jenna herself.
“Oh shit.” She sighed, and you skimmed the messages from the angle you found yourself in, getting the memo that she needed to leave. You stood up straight, gathering Jenna’s clothes off the floor as she stood up and stretched, trying her hardest to fix her hair before retying her pirate’s bandana.
Once she got dressed, she pulled you in for one last kiss, murmuring in your ear, “I’ll deal with you later,” before heading for the door.
“Jenna?” She halted, turning to face you at the call of her name, the doorknob in her hand. “Yeah?”
“You might want to stop by the makeup crew.” You pointed to her neck, reminding her that she was covered with hickeys, some larger than the others.
Feeling her neck, she winced at the multiple bruisings that littered her, giving you a glare before heading out. “Asshole.”
☟ ☟ ☟
taglist (so far): @grandpatrolnut @jennas-10 @annalestern @yara124 @daryldixonsw1fe
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queenpiranhadon · 1 month
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okay I'm sorry but I'm in celebrity Satoru Gojo married to actress reader chokehold.
Don't know how aware you all are about the one video where Ryan Reynolds interviews Brandon Sklenar because he's playing the love interest of his wife's character and that is PEAK Gojo behavior.
You're actually in a different city while this is happening, off for an interview with Buzzfeed.
Anyways, your upcoming movie, titled In the Stars, is about a young woman named Sora who had been diagnosed with cancer, and with only a few months left to live, she decides to live the life she's always wanted. One of love.
She eventually decides to pursue one of her lifelong interests of stargazing, something she's always been interested in as a child. Sora however never got to achieve her dream of becoming an astrologist due to her father's death at age 17, having to now juggle hospital and funeral bills without a very stable job.
With only a few hours to live however, she goes camping, only to almost murder a man who encounters her campsite by accident because she was startled.
The man's name was Daichi, he was a college professor who taught astronomy and was immediately overjoyed at Sora's enthusiasm for the sky.
The two ended up becoming close friends, regularly going out to camp with each other, and slowly gaining feelings along the way.
However, they're too late.
After one last camping trip, Sora wakes up vomiting uncontrollably and Daichi worriedly takes her to the hospital.
She's hooked up to millions of tubes and liquids, but it's futile. Sora passes away, leaving Daichi to mourn her on earth, hoping she's happy in the stars.
It's a relatively cliche plot, and yet, the movie becomes such a big hit because of you. The way you portray your character with so much genuine pain and longing, is what hooked the world in from the start.
Satoru couldn't have been more proud of you.
He's just a little disgruntled that your "love story" wasn't with him.
He knew it wasn't serious, but Satoru Gojo also tended to have a jealous streak - after watching the trailer for the movie he was unimpressed, because no one who truly loves you would ever look at you that way.
However that knowledge did help him feel a little better because it was just a movie after all, just acting.
That didn't stop him from causing shenanigans though.
Your coworker was a nice guy, his name was Ren Akiyama, and he was just a few years younger than Satoru and yourself.
The interviewer exits abruptly, leaving Ren confused in his chair, only for the famous Satoru Gojo to enter the set and sit in the interviewer's chair, with some cards of his own.
Ren looks around, muttering an "Oh boy, get me out of here", as your husband clears his throat, cameras trained on him.
"So...Ren, is it? You and Mrs. Gojo seem very close, do you call her anything special, like a nickname or-"
Ren cuts him off with a shake of his head. "No sir."
The interview begins to resemble that of every father's first interrogation of his daughter boyfriend, except in very different circumstance as we see Satoru grill the poor man about his relationship with you.
It's hilarious and endearing, seeing how much Satoru loves you and his interactions with Ren are quite entertaining as well.
It's even more adorable when the press catch you and Satoru going into the theaters to watch your movie, even after watching the premiere and seeing Satoru's eyes visibly tear up as he holds you tight, watching Sora's last living moments in her hospital bed, Daichi by her side.
He really does love you so much.
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A/N: I acc loved writing this omg hahah - should I write more about this??
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Wellness surveillance makes workers unwell
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I'm on tour with my new, nationally bestselling novel The Bezzle! Catch me in TORONTO on Mar 22, then with LAURA POITRAS in NYC on Mar 24, then Anaheim, and more!
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"National conversation" sounds like one of those meaningless buzzphrases – until you live through one. The first one I really participated in actively was the national conversation – the global conversation – about privacy following the Snowden revelations.
This all went down when my daughter was five, and as my wife and I talked about the news, our kid naturally grew curious about it. I had to literally "explain like I'm five" global mass surveillance:
https://locusmag.com/2014/05/cory-doctorow-how-to-talk-to-your-children-about-mass-surveillance/
But parenting is a two-way street, so even as I was explaining surveillance to my kid, my own experiences raising a child changed how I thought about surveillance. Obviously I knew about many of the harms that surveillance brings, but parenting helped me viscerally appreciate one of the least-discussed, most important aspects of being watched: how it compromises being your authentic self:
https://www.theguardian.com/technology/blog/2014/may/09/cybersecurity-begins-with-integrity-not-surveillance
As I wrote then:
There are times when she is working right at the limits of her abilities – drawing or dancing or writing or singing or building – and she catches me watching her and gets this look of mingled embarrassment and exasperation, and then she changes back to some task where she has more mastery. No one – not even a small child – likes to look foolish in front of other people.
Learning, growth, and fulfillment all require a zone of privacy, a time and place where we are not observed. Far from making us accountable, continuous, fine-grained surveillance by authority figures just scares us into living a cramped, inauthentic version of ourselves, where growth is all but impossible. Others have observed the role this plays in right-wing culture war bullshit: "an armed society is a polite society" is code for "people who make me feel uncomfortable just by existing should be terrorized into hiding their authentic selves from me." The point of Don't Say Gay laws and anti-trans bills isn't to eliminate gender nonconformity – it's to drive it into hiding.
Given all this, it's no surprise that workers who face workplace surveillance in the name of "wellness" feel unwell as a result:
https://www.ifow.org/publications/what-impact-does-exposure-to-workplace-technologies-have-on-workers-quality-of-life-briefing-paper
As the Future of Work Institute found in its study, some technologies – systems that make it easier to collaborate and communicate with colleagues – increase workers' sense of wellbeing. But wearables and AI tools make workers feel significantly worse:
https://assets-global.website-files.com/64d5f73a7fc5e8a240310c4d/65eef23e188fb988d1f19e58_Tech%20Exposure%20and%20Worker%20Wellbeing%20-%20Full%20WP%20-%20Final.pdf
Workers who reported these negative feelings confirmed that these tools make them feel "monitored." I mean, of course they do. Even where these tools are nominally designed to help you do your job better, they're also explicitly designed to help your boss keep track of you from moment to moment. As Brandon Vigliarolo writes for The Register, these are the same bosses who have been boasting to their investors about their plans to fire their workers and replace them with AI:
https://www.theregister.com/2024/03/14/advanced_workplace_tech_study/
"Bossware" is a key example of the shitty rainbow of "disciplinary technology," tools that exist to take away human agency by making it easier to surveil and control its users:
https://pluralistic.net/2020/07/01/bossware/#bossware
Bossware is one of the stages of the Shitty Technology Adoption Curve: the process by which abusive and immiserating technologies progress up the privilege gradient as their proponents refine and normalize dystopian technologies in order to impose them on wider and wider audiences:
https://pluralistic.net/2021/02/24/gwb-rumsfeld-monsters/#bossware
The kinds of metrics that bossware gathers might be useful to workers, but only if the workers get to decide when, whether and how to share that data with other people. Microsoft Office helps you catch typos by underlining words its dictionary doesn't recognize; the cloud-based, "AI-powered" Office365 tells your boss that you're the 11th-worst speller in your division and uses "sentiment analysis" to predict whether you are likely to cause trouble:
https://pluralistic.net/2022/08/21/great-taylors-ghost/#solidarity-or-bust
Two hundred years ago, Luddites rose up against machines. Contrary to the ahistorical libel you've heard, the Luddites weren't angry or frightened of machines – they were angry at the machines' owners. They understood – correctly – that the purpose of a machine "so easy a child could use it" was to fire skilled adult workers and replace them with kidnapped, indentured Napoleonic War orphans who could be maimed and killed on the job without consequence:
https://pluralistic.net/2023/03/12/gig-work-is-the-opposite-of-steampunk/
A hundred years ago, the "Taylorites" picked up where those mill owners left off: choreographing workers' movements to the finest degree in a pseudoscientific effort to produce a kind of kabuki of boss-pleasing robotic efficiency. The new, AI-based Taylorism goes even further, allowing bosses to automatically blacklist gig workers who refuse to cross picket-lines, monitor "self-employed" call center operators in their own homes, and monitor the eyeballs of Amazon drivers:
https://pluralistic.net/2023/04/12/algorithmic-wage-discrimination/#fishers-of-men
AI-based monitoring technologies dock workers' wages, suspend them, and even fire them, and when workers object, they're stuck arguing with a chatbot that is the apotheosis of Computer Says No:
https://pluralistic.net/2024/01/11/robots-stole-my-jerb/#computer-says-no
There's plenty of research about AI successfully "augmenting" workers, making them more productive and I'm the last person to say that automation can't help you get more done:
https://www.ibm.com/thought-leadership/institute-business-value/en-us/report/augmented-workforce
But without understanding how AI augments class warfare – disciplining workers with a scale, speed and granularity beyond the sadistic fantasies of even the most micromanaging asshole boss – this research is meaningless.
The irony of bosses imposing monitoring to improve "wellness" and stave off "burnout" is that nothing is more exhausting, more immiserating, more infuriating than being continuously watched and judged.
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Name your price for 18 of my DRM-free ebooks and support the Electronic Frontier Foundation with the Humble Cory Doctorow Bundle.
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If you'd like an essay-formatted version of this post to read or share, here's a link to it on pluralistic.net, my surveillance-free, ad-free, tracker-free blog:
https://pluralistic.net/2024/03/15/wellness-taylorism/#sick-of-spying
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Image: Cryteria (modified) https://commons.wikimedia.org/wiki/File:HAL9000.svg
CC BY 3.0 https://creativecommons.org/licenses/by/3.0/deed.en
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charliemwrites · 10 months
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Good morning. Chapter 8. 😈
(Okay I was a lil wrong. Not full smut, but some spice.)
CW for violence, threats, non-con groping. Reader has a “bad” time and Simon is a bastard. Stay safe while reading!
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He doesn’t kill Brandon immediately. No, no that little sack of spare organs deserves a long, slow, thoughtful death. But he doesn’t need to be able to walk for that.
Besides, Simon has a little bunny to track down.
And when he picks up your trail, oh. Oh. You are in so much trouble.
Somehow, you managed to shimmy a window open just enough to squeeze through. Out into a goddamn blizzard. At the very least, he notices when he finds your tracks, you put some boots on.
Catching up to you is pitifully easy. Longer legs and more experience in extreme terrain like this - you’ve barely made it to the tree line before he snatches you up.
“No!” You shout. There’s something so fucking cute about it. The pitch, the indignance mixed with despair. His shoulder shake a bit as he hauls you over her shoulder. “No, Riley, put me down!”
“Name’s Simon, luv.”
“I don’t care!”
“You will.”
He carries you, kicking and squirming and shouting back towards the lodge. Only starts to lose patience when he loses his grip a bit and nearly drops you on a hard sheet of ice.
He growls, digs his fingers into your plush thigh. “If you don’t fucking behave, I will spank you raw right fucking here. With your face in the snow.”
You gasp. Pause. Then go limp, sniffling and crying as he carries you back inside. He dumps you gently in front of the fire on your stomach, pins you down with his boot in the center of your back when you instantly try to scramble away.
“Where did those good manners go, sunshine?” he teases.
“Fuck manners,” you cry, pressing your wet face into your arms.
“No, baby, see? Those good manners are why you’re still alive. So sweet, so nice.” He leans down, careful not too put too much pressure on your abdomen. “Too sweet and nice to die.”
You hitch with a quiet noise. “Why are you doing this? Another lesson?”
“Mm. Could make it another lesson, couldn’t I? But no, luv. This all just for you, because I want to.”
As if on cue, Brandon comes crawling into view whimpering and begging for you to help him. Simon, annoyed by the interruption, snaps at him to shut up.
“Speaking of what I want you to do…” He drops to his knees, straddling your ass. You jolt when you feel the unmistakable hardness pressed against it. Takes everything in him not to grind. “I want to peel this little prick’s skin of square by square.”
Both you and Brandon make frightened noises at that. Simon rolls his eyes and continues.
“I’d settle for letting him bleed out from the stomach or lighting him on fire if he apologizes though.”
“F-for what?” Brandon demands.
Simon buries his fingers in your snow-wet hair because if he doesn’t, he’s going to take this idiot apart piece by piece right in front of you. Seems like a bit much for a second date.
“To her, for being a fucking pervert.”
“I’m not the sick fuckin-“
“S-Simon, please,” you pipe up, voice quiet and wobbly. “D-don’t do this, don’t hurt him.”
He clicks his tongue. “Little late for that, eh?”
“Just… please. He’s suffered enough hasn’t he?”
He laughs. Can’t help it. You just don’t get it yet, do you?
“He touched you. He upset you.”
You swallow. “You’re upsetting me.”
“You’re mine.”
You suck in a breath and finally, finally seem to understand.
“Then…. Then just leave him be. F-for me?”
Simon sighs, but can’t help the fondness that flares in his chest. Such a smart, kind little thing.
“Tell you what, sunshine, I’ll make you a deal.”
He shuffles back a bit, captures both your little wrists with one hand. You don’t try to struggle, know better now. He could purr; such a fast learner too. He draws you up on your knees, leaning you back against his chest.
“If I win, he watches what I do to you and then dies nice and slow like he deserves,” he murmurs in your ear.
You tremble. “W-what are you gonna do to me?”
He grins wickedly, trailing cool blood-stained fingers beneath your shirt. “Nothin’ you’re not already gaggin’ for.”
You jerk a bit, that precious flame of defiance brightening. “I’m not-!”
“Then prove me wrong and take the bet.”
“W-wait what happens if I win?”
He snorts softly, nuzzles his mask into your cheek. Likes the way you shift uncomfortably.
“I’ll stop. Hell, you know what? I’ll turn myself in. Brandon gets to live and you go to therapy and I got to prison, yeah?”
You turn to him, eyes huge and mouth parted in shock. Hook, line, and fuckin’ sinker. Oh, sweet thing, you never stood a chance.
“Deal?” he asks.
You only hesitate for a beat, know that it’s off. Too good to be true.
“If you don’t take the deal, I’ll just continue with our regularly scheduled programming.”
“No!” you gasp. “I-I’ll take the deal. What… what’s the bet?”
“Well,” he purrs, tracing aimless patterns along your sensitive tummy. “Since you’re so sure that you’re not gaggin’ for my cock - you win if this pretty cunt isn’t drippin’ wet for me.”
And he sees it, the exact millisecond that you realize you’re going to lose this bet. You squeeze your eyes shut, a little sob escaping you.
Brandon makes a horrified noise on the other end of the carpet.
“You can’t be fucking serious?! You’re fucking-”
That’s quite enough of that. Simon can’t have you feeling ashamed of something that’s only natural.
“You say another fucking syllable and you’ll be eating your own eyeball.”
Your stomach hitches with disgust. He shushes and coos to you, “I know, I know. Gross nasty, hm? But I can’t have him speaking ill of you, sunshine.”
He tugs the mask up to the bridge of his nose, places a slow kiss against the corner of your jaw.
“Now, for our wager…”
You turn your face away as his hand trails down your abdomen, thumb sweeping over your navel. You shiver as he toys with the waistband of your pants, then finally slips his fingers inside, down….
“Oh, luv,” he moans.
You’re fucking soaked for him. Your panties alone are absolutely ruined. When he pulls them aside and strokes his fingertips through your slit, they come away gleaming. Your clit is swollen and hard, so sensitive that the gentlest brush makes you hiccup and twitch.
He stuffs the two fingers in his mouth, sucking the taste of you from bloody skin. Fucking divine. He could cum in his pants from that alone.
“Mm, shame that,” he rasps in your ear. “Guess I win.”
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pynkgothicka · 5 months
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Knee Socks KNJ
Pairing - Tutor! Dark! Kim Namjoon x AFAB! Reader
Synopsis-Based off Parasite, your korean teacher leaves to go on a work study trip, and leaves you with his best friend to be a replacement teacher. Part 2 of the movies series.
Featuring - Brandon Perea (Angel From Nope)
Word Count - Around 3k
Tags and Warnings - age-gap, manipulation, murder, fingering, tutor/student relationship
Authors Note - As you can probably tell, the stories are majority very loosely based on the stories with me throwing my own twists into it all. Also Joon is a conglomerate of all the Parks (the poor family) into one character! Enjoy:3
A friendly reminder that all my works are dark fanfiction! Please if you do not like that do not read them! These depictions don't pertain to reality. This is your final warning before hitting the keep reading button!!
“So you want me to basically be your substitute?”
Namjoon eyed his friend as he ate from the bowl of ramen in front of him. One of his old high school friends, Brandon, stopped by his apartment out of the blue. And of course, Namjoon was embarrassed, the place looked like a dump.
Which is exactly what it was.
A dump.
“Yeah, listen I know you're smart. And I know you need the pay.” Brandon said taking a bite out of his ramen. He used his chopstick to point at Namjoon. “Also I trust you man.”
Namjoon groaned out leaning back into his couch. “Trust me? With what? Don't tell me you got roped into something fucked up.”Namjoon complained. Brandon had that look in his eyes, Namjoon could tell when he was being shifty.
“So maybe I've kind of got something going with the girl, she's sweet, super sheltered, like the perfect girl,” Brandon says leaning back long with Namjoon. “I plan on asking her out when I'm back okay? I just need you to be so you man. All scholarly and shit.”
Namjoon thought about it for a minute. “How's the pay?”
“Around 500 a session. Trust me her family has the money to blow. They want the best and they trust me to have good recommendations. Also, the mom is a bit of an airhead anyway.”
“Fine, you're lucky I need to make rent.”
📖
You sat in your room bored out of your mind. Your mother told you that Brandon had found someone to continue your studies while he was away. You knew your mom was probably annoying the poor man downstairs. She had a habit of talking too much.
Curiosity got the better of you as you found yourself heading downstairs to your lavish mansion kitchen. You sat on the stairs, peering through the railing.
Your new tutor was handsome, slightly built with a buzz cut. He reminded you of men you see in movies, rich CEOs who would fall for their secretaries. Or even a dangerous boxer who has a soft spot for the ballerina.
Lost in your trance, your mom spotted you. “Oh! Sweetheart come down, Mr. Kim here would like to meet you.” You curse under your breath as you stand up and walk the rest of the way downstairs. Almost tripping as your socks slipped on the hardwood floor. You catch yourself walking over to the side of the island.
Mr. Kim looked at you for a moment before smiling. “Please call me Namjoon, Mr. Kim makes me sound old.” He said extending a hand. You take it and give him a slightly firm handshake.
“She'll call you Mr.Kim, respect always remember sweetheart?” Your mom cooed passing you a bowl of pomegranate seeds. You nod towards her as she smiles. “Okay now go study, Mr. Kim is a very smart man by the sound of it. If you need anything call me upstairs.”
You were already walking upstairs with Namjoon following close behind. You led him into your bedroom and sat down at your desk. You pull out the notebook that you and Brandon used. “Sorry if my mom was annoying you, she's ditzy like that.” You mumbled going to the practice test you were doing before Brandon left last session.
Snap!
You jump at Namjoons snapping right in front of your face. “I want you to focus. From what you're mother is telling me she wants you to pass with Korean as a foreign Language for college next semester correct?” You nod at Namjoon. You focus back in on the practice test.
It was a particular problem you stared at, and it was something you couldn't figure out. You were about to circle A but you were stopped by Namjoon grabbing your wrist. “Are you certain that's the answer?” He asks leaning next to you. You shake your head, no, your breathing rising in speed as his hand holds your own in place. “Then why are you answering it?”
“Because it's the next question?” You say your voice peeking as you finish the statement. It comes out like a question and more so it comes out as you being rude to him. You shake your head looking up at him. “Sorry… I mean… it's true I just didn't want you to take it as me being rude to you.”
“Focus.” He reprimands. “Look at the question and think again.” Namjoon let's go of your wrist and you reconsider the answer. It's D. The answer is D. You circle it and look back at Namjoon expecting a response. You're welcomed with a warm smile. “Very good.”
His hand digs into the bowl of pomegranate seeds and he pops one into your mouth. You blush as you feel the tips of his fingers touch your lips and the action in general. Not even Brandon did something that bold. “T-Thank you Namjoon.”
He gives you a warm smile, showing his dimples, something you just caught. “Good, now continue answering the rest of the questions, you don't want to do bad you're first day with me do you?”
📖
Once Namjoon got his pay and started his trek home he realized something. Brandon was right, you pretty much were the perfect girl. Just from one lesson, he realized he enjoyed teaching you something he's become so familiar with.
While he was lost in thought Brandon called him and Namjoon picked it up. “Hey, how was your first class?” Namjoon didn't want to tell him that he was secretly fond of the girl that Brandon liked and that he felt something for her as well so he chose to be as bland as possible.
“It was good. We just kind of reviewed what you guys already went over before.” Namjoon said crossing the street and walking into his apartment complex. He checked the mail seeing that he had nothing.
No one usually contacted him unless it was some bill.
“That's good, is she ok? I know I kind of left on short notice.” Brandon said into the phone. Namjoon hated that he felt indifferent towards Brandon's concerns. It wasn't really like him to see his friends whining about nothing in particular. “God I must've hurt her so bad.”
“I mean if she's hurt she didn't say anything about it, I mean I guess she was nervous,” Namjoon said entering his apartment. “I mean it's nothing bad for her to not be upset. Maybe she'll ask about you later?” God, he hated giving Brandon hope.
But Brandon took it as is. “Thanks, man, I really appreciate you doing this for me. Call you later.” And before Namjoon could even wish him goodbye the phone hung up in his face.
He let out a sigh before pouring a bowl of cereal. He wished you were there for him. You wouldn't have him eating this, you'd probably want him to eat better. Namjoon caught himself thinking in that way and he caught himself. He knew this would end badly. There is no other way it could go.
📖
Namjoon had taught you for about a month now, and you couldn't stop thinking about him. Even now as he sits next to you while you study what he taught you today, you couldn't help but fantasize about him.
You sat with your head down reading over the pages in your notebook. You poked your lip out, hoping he would notice you. It was fruitless of an attempt but you at least had to try.
“Namjoon, have you ever been in love?”
He looks up at you cocking a brow. “What does this have to do with Korean?” You look away at his question, keeping your eyes glued to the notebook. Namjoon takes his thumb and tilts your eyes to look into his own. “Look up here, Answer the question.”
Your eyes look away. “It was a dumb question, I shouldn't have asked it.”
“But you did. Why?”
You let out a sigh before responding. “Well, I was just wondering if you had, you don't have to answer it, I know it's off-topic.” You blabber on, Namjoon letting your head drop.
“Well, yeah of course. I'm 29, and I of course have had a few relationships. But they always just don't get it you know?” Namjoon rests his head in his hand, elbow resting on your desk. “They didn't want to change for the sake of our relationship. I guess I just have a bad taste in women huh?” He ended with a chuckle.
“Yeah, I mean what do you like in women…? I can probably be a good judge of character for you.” You add playing it off as being nice towards him. Maybe if he told you what he liked, you could change to fit his standards. Namjoon seemed to be a perfect man, and maybe you being almost 20 could be perfect in his eyes if you did.
He turned to look at you. “Well, I like my women of course pretty. Smart, shy, well… I mean that's too much already.” He said throwing his hand up to brush it off coyly. You put a hand on his thigh, looking into his eyes as to encourage him.
“Tell me, I want to know.”
“Well, I don't think it matters really. Unless you think that you're right for me.” Namjoon said leaning down to get closer to you. “Are you baby? Are you the right person for me?”
You nodded getting closer, your lips ghosting over his own. Namjoon does the final push, connecting your lips together. His hand goes to your hair, tangling his hand into it. His tongue brushed over your teeth, pushing into your mouth. You were messy, clunky, and unsure of what you were doing. As he pulled away, his chest rose and fell. “Do you think you love me?” He finally asks. “Is that why you asked me if I had ever been in love?”
“Mhmm, you're just so… amazing and wise… I've looked at you since you showed up in the kitchen…”
“Good, I think that you're amazing, and I want to see where this goes, I think you're the right person… the one I've been looking for,” Namjoon said before connecting your lips again.
📖
From that day on, every time you had a class with Namjoon, it was really spent cuddling and enjoying your time with the older man. Laying in bed, you two would usually talk about life, normally letting Namjoon talk and praise you. Maybe it was due to the fact you usually went along with whatever he wanted to do.
Like now.
You dug your nails into his arm, his hand dug into your panties, fingering you. He quieted your moans with his lips, you sitting in front of him, toes curling as they hang off your bed. “Joon…” You whine into his mouth, trying to be as quiet as possible. “It f-feels so good…”
His fingers curled, blunt nails hitting at your walls. “Yeah? Doesn't it feel good to be loved?” He said placing kisses down your neck, sucking a hickey to join new and faded ones. He usually couldn't keep his hands off of you, no matter what, usually liking for his hands to dig into your thighs, thumbs brushing over the top of your knee-high socks. But now he wanted to give you pleasure, something he called a gift since you two were together.
You nodded as you feel your cunt gush around his thick fingers. “Please let me cum… I need it, sir.” You moan quietly into his mouth. Namjoon only liked to be called sir when messing around. He told you that it made him feel empowered and that you being there made him feel so much better than usual. You saw nothing wrong with that of course, isn't that the role of a lover?
“Do it for me, baby, all over my fingers.” And you do, as soon as he says that, you throw your head back on his shoulder. You collapse onto him, Namjoon adjusting it to where you laid on him in bed. He stuck his fingers into his mouth, sucking off your juices. You couldn't help but blush. “You taste amazing, like always.”
You roll your eyes playfully. “Are you still going to be able to make it to my party? I know my parents invited you and stuff.” You ask, hand playing with your boyfriend's cheek. Of course, coming from a rich family meant you'd have large parties for your birthday. It's not like you wanted them but, they also told you they invited your tutor who just so happened to be your boyfriend.
Namjoon swatted at your fingers, chuckling a bit. “Of course, I wouldn't miss it for the world. We just won't pretend to be a thing.” He says. You nod in agreement, knowing your parent's reaction would most likely ruin the party in general.
“Yeah… okay! We should have around 30 minutes left, and I really just want to nap.” You say closing your eyes and laying down your head. Namjoons hand stroked at your head soothing you to fall asleep.
📖
The day had come for your party, and Namjoon couldn't have been more excited. He put on a brand new suit, one he brought with the money he made from his newfound job. As he arrives at the home, he spots that people have already shown up and that it's an outside party at that. Namjoon walked towards the backyard patio, your father setting up a backdrop for pictures.
“Mr, Kim, just the man I wanted to see,” Your father behind raising up to hug the man. “I'm glad you made it, hey can you head inside to grab the champagne buckets? They should be in the cellar in the basement.”
Namjoon nodded. “Yes, of course, I'll be back.” Namjoon makes his way to the back door seeing a table of women who blew kisses at them. He smiled before going inside, taking his phone out to send you a quick text.
Namjoon: Just arrived! Ur dad is already putting me to work lol
Baby🤍: Oh goddd I'll get on him about it.
Baby🤍 Still getting ready though, so just work for him a bit until I finish. Luv uuuu!!!
Namjoon chuckled at your texts as he made his way into the kitchen.
“So when were you going to tell me you started fucking her?” Namjoon put his phone down to look up, seeing no one other than Brandon. He stood at the kitchen island leaning on it, a drink in hand.
“Oh, your back? I thought you'd be gone longer.” Namjoon commented before turning to head to the basement. He wasn't going to deal with Brandon and ruin his girlfriend's day.
That thought was before Brandon shoved Namjoon into a wall. Brandon held Namjoons shirt. “Don't play dumb with me, I went to see her. I was gonna gift her a letter and she said she already had a boyfriend. And I know the only dude she would see constantly was you. How could you? I asked you to do one thing and you couldn't even do that?!” Brandon said, getting in Namjoons face. He whinced, Brandon's forearm resting on Namjoons neck pushing down. There was no way he was going to die this way, not from Brandon's rage.
Namjoon pushed him off, then shoved him down the basement stairs. Namjoon stood there as he watched Brandon fall, head hitting the wood. He waited until the last thud, Namjoon slowly walking downstairs to see what he had just done. Once he reaches the bottom, Namjoon smiles, the sick sight of Brandon writhing on the ground groaning. A puddle of blood formed around him, the impact from hitting the concrete probably giving him a concussion.
The bottom of Namjoons shoes clicked as he made his way to the cellar. He took the metal branding tool used to mark the barrels. The sound of metal shrieked as he dragged it towards Brandon's beat-up corpse. “I'm sorry I have to do this, but you're in my way now. And we can't have that now can we?” Namjoon taunted raising the iron. Brandon's eyes opened slightly as he saw the iron come down on him.
Namjoon felt tears pour down his cheeks as he began to beat Brandon in.He coughed up blood, and Namjoon didn't stop beating Brandon until he was certain he was dead. Once he came to that conclusion he dropped the iron. "Why did you make me do that huh?!" Namjoon yelled at no one. "You ruin everything, god, im happy you're fucking gone."
Namjoon claimed himself wiping his eyes of tears. He got up and grabbed the champagne buckets. He looked back before heading out of the basement, locking the door. He lets out a sigh before leaving, not looking back. He had bigger plans now, and Brandon wasn't in them.
He couldn't be in them.
Namjoons eyes trailed over your form, stopping at your socks as you laughed with your family. Outside the patio, you see Namjoon carrying the ice buckets and wave him over. He smiles at you before signing and returning to his girlfriend who he plans to keep forever.
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