#Darius Pierce | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

youcancallmeelle · 5 months

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We’ve got one thing in common, it’s this tongue of mine…

A prequel to She’s got a boyfriend anyway…

Rating: 18+ (Minors DNI)

Word count: 5k

Warnings: Smoking of cigarettes, semi public sexual acts, oral sex (f&m receiving), blow job, mention of body hair & hair removal, cunnilingus (Joel is the king of eating pussy), nipple play (Joel likes boobs idk), mention of ovulation, sneaking around, mention of Ellie.

Summary: Joel seeks you out just like he’s always done and you’re thrilled, interrupted work break be damned. Or

Two clearly in love people fool around behind The Tipsy Bison.

AO3

Read below…

A Friday night is always particularly rowdy at The Tipsy Bison, with a larger crowd pouring in after working the stores on main street or serving dinner at the dining hall.

You’ve been on your feet for what feels like hours, making regular trips out into the seating area to collect empty glasses and bowls that house dried fruit and nuts, then washing and refilling those glasses and topping up the bar snacks.

Bar work is probably your least favourite on your work rotation, the only good thing is the socialising.

When Darius comes in to take over from Seth, the resident grump, he shoots you a sympathetic glance when he sees you standing against the wall, rubbing your lower back tiredly.

“Go for a break.” He orders, nodding towards the back doors.

“You sure you can manage for twenty minutes? It’s only gonna get busier.”

“Yes, I’ll be fine. Go on, Seth is an asshole for keeping you here while he probably took multiple breaks.” He shakes his head, it’s true, in the time you and Seth had both been on shift, he’d taken three smoke breaks. “Here, for your troubles.” Darius pulls the rolled cigarette he’d had resting behind his ear and holds it out for you.

“Thanks.” You beam, taking it. “See you soon.” You promise, hastily making your exit through the back and out the fire escape door.

The door swings open and shuts with a ear piercing wail, the hinges are desperate to be oiled and you expect you’ll end up doing it instead of Seth or Darius. It’s unsurprising that men are still useless even after the outbreak, if you want a job doing right then do it yourself.

You wander down the alley, kicking up gravel as you go before slinking around the back and reaching for the resident shared lighter on the top of the broken air conditioning unit on the outside of the building.

You spark up the lighter, encasing the point of the cigarette in your mouth and inhaling so it begins to burn evenly.

It’s heavenly, the way the tobacco settles within you and you take another deep drag, closing your eyes and listening to the evening chatter within the commune.

The sky is darkening to blended shades of vermillion and saffron, the last time you’d been outside today it was bright blue, a true testament to how long you’d been working your bar shift today.

As you stand there, enjoying your gifted cigarette and the peace and quiet, you hear something over the sound of Alice Cooper’s Poison playing from inside.

There’s the familiar set of footsteps that your ears pick up first, belonging to a man with a hard stature and heart of gold. Then a low whistle and the hairs on your arms stand on edge, your hand trembles just so, some ash falling to the dirt as arms encase you from behind and pull you back into a hard chest.

You sigh happily when you feel scruff drag along your cheek and a small peck at the corner of your lips, you tip your head back, peering up into a set of dark eyes laced with a depth of hunger and a border of infatuation.

“Hi there.” You murmur, twisting around in the biceps encasing you, conscious of the lit cigarette in your hand.

Joel looks down at you, massaging your hips with his big hands; the same hands that have held his daughters and cradled you close just the same.

Ruthless; that’s how people in Jackson described him when he arrived back the second time. A killing machine, a no good man, trouble. You’d scoffed and brushed everyone off, choosing to formulate your own opinion and boy, were those gossipers wrong. Of course, they only see what they want to see, that hard exterior and scar running across his nose.

“Hey.” He whispers back, leaning down for a soft kiss, one that speaks a thousand words he’d struggle to articulate any other way just yet. “Where’d you get that?” Joel asks, nodding to your cigarette.

“Darius.” You reply, taking a small drag then offering it to him to finish. He takes it, inhaling and emitting a neat line of smoke. You watch in fascination, rubbing your palms over the broad width of his chest, plucking the material of his t-shirt. It’s black, more faded to the scale of grey than being the darkest shade of ink. Still, he looks delectable.

He has such a beautiful mouth, the first thing that had drawn you to him, then it was his voice - the smooth texan drawl that you absorbed like a plant during photosynthesis.

“You been out here long?” He wonders, you shake your head. “I thought maybe you weren’t working tonight, couldn’t remember what shifts you said you had this week but I came back here to check anyway.” Joel tells you, taking the last drag of the cigarette and crushing the butt against the brick wall behind him, encasing you back into his arms.

“That old man brain of yours.” You tease, standing on your tip toes to hunt for his mouth, he makes a noise at your soft insult but coincidentally melts into you as you kiss him like you hadn’t just seen him the previous afternoon. “How was your shift?” You inquire when you pull back, he chases your lips.

“Fine.” He supplies back in his texan drawl, fingers winding in your hair to tug you back into gravitation.

Joel had been on a wall shift since late morning, you’d remembered that much.

“Are you not cold?” You press, feeling his bare forearms and noticing the chill that he tends to feel in his older age. It’s spring now and you’re perfectly content working in denim shorts and a t-shirt, the bar gets stifling the more bodies that pack in over the course of the evening and into the night.

“Ellie has my jacket, she wanted to wear it to school today, she’s still a little anxious to be without me.”

Your chest warms at the confession; you’ve always loved observing them together. Anyone can see their bond but you can see how deep it runs, they’re almost always together, wether that be huddled close in the dining hall with her sometimes seeking refuge perched on his knee when it gets too busy for her to deal with and he’ll whisper things to her that make her smile timidly and lean into him, stealing bites of the dinner he offers even though it exactly the same as what she’s had and chosen to leave.

You’ve seen him give her his scarf in the street when she’s looked panicked and white in the face amongst the snow during last winter, you’d watched as she inhaled his smell and then fallen into his chest, hugging him tightly around the waist until she seemed grounded enough to walk home with him, tucked beneath his arm like a little bird. There’s a story there, you can decipher that much; one forged by fear and survival. Your chest had hurt at the fearful look in her eyes when a flurry of snow had began to fall, making contact with her rounded cheeks and causing her to flinch, almost sucking the last of her life out of her youthful complexion.

He’s her safety blanket - her protector - and when he’s not available to be that as himself, his jacket is the next best thing.

“Ah.” You murmur, lips curling at the sweet revelation. “Did you give her those parsnip chips I made?” It was a friendly offering, something you do regularly for her wether it be with food or things you find on patrol.

She’s none the wiser to the relationship you and Joel now have that’s strictly past paired patrol partners.

“Yep.” He replies, skating his palms over every inch of your skin, looping them around your elbows to pull you in.

“Did she like them?” You press further, evading him.

“Loved ‘em.”

“And did you like them, cowboy?” You lean out of reach and he snarls playfully, trying to tug you back.

“Well, from the one she let me have… yeah, they seemed good.” You snort at Ellie’s behaviour, unable to even be shocked at her unwillingness to share good snacks with Joel, it’s hilarious for some reason. “Mmm, laugh it up, I want my own batch next time and then I’m going to hide them on the highest shelf where she can’t reach.”

You continue giggling and his shoulders shake too, he takes advantage of you being distracted to continue kissing you, you sigh into his mouth, giggles ceasing.

You kiss him heartily, scrubbing your fingers through the grey patches in his beard and over the definition of his jaw. He moans into your mouth quietly, fingers fidgeting to grasp onto you.

He pulls back, nudging his nose against yours as you all but pant against his chin in hot puffs to compose yourself.

This is all still fairly new, barely a couple of weeks old but you don’t see yourself growing bored and neither does Joel. You feed off the thrill, seeking solace in one another to fill that void that has been empty for too long. It’s not that you don’t want people to know because you’re both embarrassed but it’s nice to have a little secret that you can greedily hold the reins to, something that’s yours.

It had all been sudden, everything had come to a head in the early hours of a Tuesday morning on overnight patrol. You’d stationed up together in a broken down and abandoned truck just a couple of meters in the forest, talking and drinking alcohol laced tea in the truck bed as you watched dawn break. One thing had led to another and you’d had sex, it was short but one of the most intimate experiences of your life.

“Can I come over tonight for a little bit? My gremlin child is sleeping over at Tommy’s, he’s taking her fishing tomorrow, it’s a reward for not skipping any classes this week.”

In the last few weeks, Joel has come over for a few hours once darkness has descended over Jackson. You haven’t slept together at your place or even in a bed at all, you instead steal moments on watchtower shift together where you ride him on the creaky deck chair with your back to his chest or on one occasion he’s sought you out during a greenhouse shift and bent you over the potting table in the shed.

When he comes over, which is most nights before Ellie comes home for curfew, you lie together on your couch with you pillowed on top of him. You make out like teenagers and talk and tease, sharing snippets of your life. He’s so easy to talk to, he’s an interesting specimen, full of wisdom and anecdotes. He’s told you stories of his first daughter, you imagine her green eyes and pretty curls in whatever story he’s content to retell, tracing the cracked face of his watch.

He’s always back before Ellie, sometimes way earlier than he needs to be just on the off chance she might have had a bad day and comes in early. It’s happened before, he’d got home after her and found her in hysterics on the couch just before dinner and had to lie about his whereabouts while trying to comfort her over a rough shift at the stables when a metal gate had clanged shut and suddenly she was back in a cage somewhere in Colorado. The accusatory where were you? she’d hiccuped in the middle of a panic attack had fucked him up real good and he vowed to be more careful.

“You can.” You hum, fiddling with the notch of his belt, his stomach tenses at your teasing. “But this - “ You grab the heft of his cock through his jeans, he growls immediately. “This has to stay in your pants.” You say firmly, peering up through your lashes with a devilish smirk.

“Why’s that?” His fingers dig into the flesh of your ass, the tips slipping beneath the frayed edge of your shorts.

“Because I’m ovulating.” You answer, you swear his eyes darken ever so slightly.

“Mm, is that why you smell so good?” He grumbles, burying his nose in your throat after forcing your head back by your hair, he inhales deeply like you’re the very best drug he’s ever had. He gulps you in, behind your ear, at your pulse point and the hinge of your clenching jaw.

“Jesus, Joel.” You huff when his tongue dips into the hollow of your throat and his perfect teeth clip the edge of your jaw. Your pussy clenches and your clit throbs, as if your hormones weren’t already crazy enough at this part in your cycle without him inhaling your pheromones like a mad man.

He nudges the neckline of your t-shirt down by the rip in the collar, nosing at your clavicle and sucking a small bruise there like he’s marking you as his own. It’s so possessive, your underwear grows even damper at the thought.

“You taste good.” He mumbles into your skin, licking over the bruise then his long fingers are going up your shirt, bunching it above your bra where he then begins to press wet kisses to the swell of each breast, cupping you roughly. A nipple peeks over the unlined cup and he takes it into his mouth, sucking and pulling off with a wet pop to bite it gently and pull it between his teeth. He’s really into your tits, that had been learnt very quickly.

“Oh my god…” You pant, eyes scrunched shut, head tilted towards the cloudy sky as you pray to whoever for the strength to not beg Joel to take you there and then, to fill you with his potent warmth and leave it dripping all day to dip a finger down and taste the combination of you both. “Ow!” You hiss when he bites your nipple harder than you’re used to, you pull a curl of his hair in retaliation.

“Oopsie.” He grins unapologetically.

Somehow you possess the strength to push him back against the wall roughly, he grunts when his back connects to the brick but then you’re on him hungrily, crowding him against the surface.

Your hormones fizzle over and before you can even comprehend where you are, you decide you need his dick in your mouth immediately or you’re gonna die.

Your fingers fight with his belt, undoing it with your nimble fingers and tugging it apart like you’re furious.

“What’re you doing, honey?” Joel voices, though he doesn’t stop you. He’s unsure if you’re suddenly throwing out all sense and wanting to take him inside you, there’s a part of him that’s hoping that’s the case but you’d both been fairly careful so far; he’d been pulling out at the last minute and covering your inner thighs or ass in his cum.

“Sucking your cock.” You retort without missing a beat, unsnapping his button and dragging his fly down.

“Ya don’t have to -“ He begins but you level him with a glare.

“I want to.” Your glare humbles him and he actually gulps. Well - he’s not going to argue with that.

You kiss his lips hard, biting his bottom one gently and tugging in a way that makes him expel all his oxygen out of his nose and then you’re shimmying down his body, lifting his t-shirt and pressing a series of kisses down his stomach, you let the your fingertips graze over the ragged scar next to his navel and then lick a horizontal line just above his pubic area as you tug his jeans and boxers down over his ass and bunch them at his thighs.

You glance to the side nervously, waiting to see if any noise is approaching but then tug his cock completely free.

He sees you lick your lips when his cock springs upwards, he’s hard as rock and blushed along the length, curved a little to the side, the head beading with pre cum that your tongue immediately darts out to lick from the slit.

“Fuck.” He chokes, leaning back against the wall and winding his fingers in your hair as you press a group of featherlight kisses up the length of him until your reach the crown and wiggle your tongue on the underside of it, skating around the rim of him.

Your mouth is heavenly, wet and inviting, your tongue soft on the underside of him where you trace a prominent vein.

You let your mouth gather saliva while you admire the patch or dark and coarse hair between his narrow hips, threaded with wiry strands of silver.

His mind turns to static when you take him deep, easily swallowing just over half his length.

“Just like that, baby doll.” He coaxes, you swallow around the length of him, pulling up to lavish his tip with attention with the point of your tongue. He groans, hips canting into you so you envelope him again in the wet heat of your mouth. “God, you’re so fuckin’ gorgeous.” You alternate with taking him deep into your throat and using your hand to jack off what doesn’t fit, twisting your wrist and moving lower to suck and kiss his balls when your jaw begins to ache deliciously, he’s tugging at your hair, moving his hips to nudge that tiny bit deeper until your eyes water.

Joel thinks you look as pretty as a picture, there’s nothing sexier than a woman that is actively enjoying giving head rather than doing it because she thinks she has to, not that he’s ever made a woman do anything they didn’t want to before. Tess wasn’t that enthusiastic about giving head, happier to receive than reciprocate which didn’t bother him.

“You taste so good, Joel. I could suck your dick all day, so fucking good.” You confess, lips braced against his crown, kissing and nipping ever so gently, you trace his circumcision scar.

“Baby.” He whines, pushing against your closed lips until you open up to let him back in. Your cheeks hollow, sucking back and forth, popping at the tip and repeating.

He’s nestled in the back of your throat, balls gently being stroked between your feminine hands and his stamina wavers. You hum around him and he’s a goner, quickly pulling back as you feel his hairy thighs tense, dragging himself along your tongue one last time.

Joel takes himself in hand, stroking roughly like he does when he’s alone with just his mind to recount your previous encounters.

You stroke his thighs, watching eagerly. The tendons in his neck strain, his throat bobs as he swallows back his pleasure.

“Stick your tongue out.” He demands gruffly, working the length of himself and cupping his balls. You stick your tongue out, eyes glassy and lashes dewy. He manages three seconds before his abdomen contracts. “Jesus - fuck. I’m cummin’, baby. Oh shit, fuck- “ He stammers, eyes wanting to cinch shut but he needs to see you take his load. His dick throbs and kicks, his balls draw tight and his spine burns.

He cums in thick spurts, some landing on your tongue and a little hitting the corner of your mouth. Joel groans his way through it, the erotic sight of you humming happily as his head pulses on your tongue, his grip encouraging one last thick drop of semen to spurt out.

“Mmm.” You hum, closing your mouth to swallow his load and using your thumb to catch what missed your tongue, you suck the tip of your thumb to get the last drop and smile up at him like the little fucking vixen you are.

“That was amazing, you’re amazing.” He babbles, dragging you to your feet and engaging you in a deep kiss. Joel can taste the saltiness of himself on your tongue, he licks into your mouth with ferocity.

He pulls away to yank his boxers and jeans up, buckling his belt as you stand there trying to quell the ache in your loins as your cunt drips into the gusset of your underwear.

You’re so fucking horny, desperate for an orgasm or two.

When Joel has finished righting himself, he yanks you to him so fast that you wobble on your feet.

“What’s wrong, baby doll? Did ya really think I’d take mine and just be done?” Joel asks, unsnapping the button of your shorts and pulling them down to your thighs.

“No.” You lie, though you’re laced with relief when he crouches down and settles on his creaky knees. You see him wince a little but he says nothing, adjusting to a comfortable stance.

His head dips beneath the loose and fraying hem of your t-shirt, you giggle when his beard scrapes a particularly ticklish area and you feel him smile against your abdomen, kissing there after and descending lower to the waist of your Miami cut panties. He’s following a similar trail to what you did on him, he’s teasing you and riling you up.

His dexterous fingers hook into the sides of your panties, pulling them down but as they hit the centre of your thighs with the bunched denim of your mom shorts, he urges you around to face away from him.

He slaps your ass and you sink forward, barely able to catch yourself first.

You feel his hands spread you and you bend forward just so, arching your hips backwards and you heard him take a sharp intake of breath.

“Well, what do we have here?” He purrs, greedily taking in the sight of your bare pussy, freshly waxed and smooth, your arousal and natural fertile release coating your lips in a shiny slick.

“Waxed it.” You pant, fingers anchoring to the brick, the grains of mortar shedding beneath your nails.

“I can see that.” He hums, using his thumbs to part you, to expose your fluttering hole to his gaze. “Why?” He wonders, though he’s not complaining, it’s just that he doesn’t really have much of a preference for intimate hair but this is a nice surprise.

“Wanted to, I li- I like the feel of it.” You admit with a gulp when you feel his lips at the back of your thigh, right below the curve of your ass cheek, tongue darting out to trace a silvery stretch mark.

Every month, Martha - the owner of the apothecary - makes up a batch of natural and homemade sugar wax. Many of the ladies (and some gents) come in for a pot to wax whatever they want, you’re one of the few that keep this up, liking the normalcy of something as simple as having smooth legs and underarms but this time had decided to put yourself through the eye watering pain of waxing your vagina too, just as a little experiment you like to do every now and then but usually you shave instead when you can be bothered.

It was touch and go, at one point you thought you’d lost part of your labia but with some tears and a mostly steady hand, you’d managed to complete your task. Were you in a hurry to do it again? Absolutely fucking not but you were enjoying the results for now.

“Look how wet she is, is this all for me?” He goads, swiping his thumb through the centre of you and letting it dip into your hole for a second. “Yeah, this is all for me. This perfect cunt loves me.” Joel confirms, that cocky nature really coming out to play.

You’re definitely ovulating, he can tell by just looking at you. Your outer lips are puffy and you’re dripping into your underwear, sticky and clear, the viscosity thicker than when you cum.

He spreads your cheeks, leaving you vulnerable for a brief moment until he literally begins to lick at your asshole. This is the thing with Joel, the vulnerability. There are days where you chest cavity has been cracked open, the cage of your ribs pulled apart and your heart beats in tandem with his own, he offers his own vulnerability and you nurture it in the palms of your hands.

It’s a new sensation for you, nobody has ever done this before and it feels phenomenal. It’s unsurprising that Joel Miller is a dirty old man, you think to yourself, pushing back against his tongue. You’d been left dissatisfied with previous partners, unable to orgasm through oral sex most of the time, leaving you to tend to tourself at a later date.

You complain when his slick mouth leaves your puckered rim but the disappointment vanishes just as quick as it came, he begins to feast on your pussy, suckling your labia and moving to your hole, dipping his tongue inside and teasing your urethra too.

It’s hard to reach back and grab at his hair when he spreads you further, stretching you beyond your limit. You whimper and whine, desperate for more, for whatever he can offer.

Fearing that maybe you were correct and this was going to be a disappointment, in a moment of weakness and pure gluttony, you reach down between your legs to give your clit some attention where Joel can’t reach it from the positioning. You barely make contact before he sees what you’re doing and gives your ass a hard slap, you jump and your hand drops. He pulls back to twist you around until he’s eye level with your pubic mound and he positively glowers up at you, it’s such a fucking turn on that you feel no ounce of remorse whatsoever.

Daringly, you reach down again and he tracks your hand, you don’t even get to touch yourself this time before he knocks it away.

“Hands off.” Joel scowls, brown eyes flecked with hazel and gold. “I want to see that pretty little clit and I can’t if your fuckin’ hand is in my way.” He sounds so irritated that it’s comical. He scowls for a minute longer then gets his thumb involved with stimulating your clit and pushing upwards so that it’s bared beneath the hood, kissing it tenderly before flicking at it with his tongue.

Christ almighty - this dirty old geezer and his ability to eat pussy like he’s starving.

“Ah, ah.” You gasp at a particularly ferocious flicker of his tongue, your nerve endings alight. “There. Right there, that’s so good.” You sputter, clutching at his hair, so soft beneath your claws.

“I know where, you greedy fuckin’ girl.” He mumbles against you, clearly holding a grudge for your earlier interruption.

“Oh? So get back to work, Miller.” You order defiantly, he narrows his eyes and returns back to work, licking at your clit and kissing it. You feel the rising storm of your orgasm building by the second, Joel flattens his tongue and running it between the seam of your, scooping up the fertile sugary syrup of your arousal.

“Look at you, sweetheart. So fuckin’ wrecked already.” He goads, kneading your hips. He reaches up to grasp at your tits, squeezing firmly, he fondles them both and you observe the chocolate brown eyes looking back at you, watching every single reaction to his ministrations.

He goes back to your clit, it’s so hard and aroused now, pretty and pink just like the rest of your pussy. You writhe against the wall when he sucks, his tongue darting out to lick the very tip of you and that’s game over.

“God, Joel.“ You moan, strands of greying hair clutched between tour fingers, pulling rougher than you intended. “I’m cumming.” You whine, head thrown back and pussy grinding into his lower face. Your clit pulses between his lips, he moans too when he feels you soak his facial hair, making a mess of him just like he’d wanted you too.

It’s filthy, the way your hips gyrate through your orgasm and the way his tongue scrubs your pulsing nerve. You wish you were full of him right now, soaking that thick cock of his. Your hormones are going haywire, screaming at you to let him fuck you with brute force and cum inside you, filling your womb and planting a seed within your empty uterus.

You’re being exceptionally loud, you know that. You have to bite the side of your hand, yet it’s not enough to muffle you. The volume in which you’ve reached the highest point of rapture sure to be heard from anyone passing by, you hope that the volume within The Tipsy Bison is enough to cover your tracks and pray that Darius won’t come looking for you.

It’s as though you can’t get enough oxygen into your lungs to compensate for what you lost keening, you suck in mouthful after mouthful of air and your body calms, the fire that had ignited slowly descends into burning embers until it’s nothing but petite plumes of smoke and tendrils of ashen air.

“Fuuuck.” You gasp, feeling gentle kisses being placed on the inside of your trembling thighs and you chance a look down after brushing the hair from your eyes. Joel looks back at you, pleased and aroused all over again, his dick a considerable lump in his jeans.

Refractory time who?

“I forgot how much I enjoyed doing that.” He confesses against your thigh breathlessly, lips and beard slick with you, with nectar like droplets clinging to his moustache.

“Mm.” You squeak, chest heaving and knees shakily supporting you.

“Was that okay for you?” He presses, rubbing your thighs, mouthing at them where his beard has left you scarlet and raw. You nod vigorously, just about able to find your voice.

“It was fucking incredible, Joel.” You reply, still a little breathless. He smiles and kisses your inner thigh once more before hoisting himself up stiffly with a pained groan. You drag up your underwear, jolting when your clit rubs against the material. Your shorts are also pulled back up and fastened, you breathe in deeply before reaching out for Joel’s face.

You capture his scruffy cheeks and pull him in for a kiss, practically licking yourself out of his moustache. He groans and squeezes your waist, you reluctantly pull back to peer at him, savouring a glance at his gorgeous face.

“I guess you gotta go back to work.” He remarks sullenly, you nod.

“You gonna come in and have a drink? We have beer tonight.” You tell him.

“Not tonight.” He shakes his head, your shoulders slump in disappointment. “Don’t think I’d be able to watch you all night and not be able to get my hands on you.” He brushes a strand of hair from your face, stroking your cheekbone.

“Okay.” You huff.

“Don’t be mad at me, angel. My old ticker can’t take it.” He remarks playfully.

“Not mad.” You deny. “Just like having you around.”

“Yeah, me too.” He sighs.

“But I’ll see you at mine later.” You whisper, rubbing your nose against his.

“That you will, sweetheart.”

“Promise?” You pout.

“On my life.” He promises, kissing you softly.

He watches you retreat down the alley with the essence of you still on his tongue and listens as the door closes with a screech, smiling to himself like a clown in love.

You return back to work with flushed cheeks and a thrumming heart, counting down the hours, eager to be back with him once again.

#joel miller x reader #joel miller smut #the last of us #joel miller #the last of us fic

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memyselfandmya · 1 month

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JWCT PROMPT COUNTDOWN

Jwct countdown May 16-17 -> post-nublar shenanigans:

So, I had so many ideas for this prompt, and ended up only doing two. I will be writing more of them and maybe I'll put some of them on tumblr but a lot of them are going to go towards my fanfictions. I'm not used to this multiple point of view thing with limited action and so many characters so the 1st part is a little wonky. I really love the 2nd one; it's shorter than I'd like it to be but I'll probably end up lengthening it later on. Enjoy!

“I mostly play with the dinosaur mods,” Darius says. “Can we add—”

The loud chorus of “No!”s is unmistakably noticeable especially with his headphones on. He has to lift them from his ears for a moment while the group settles down.

“No offense, D, but I’ve had enough dinosaurs for a lifetime,” Kenji tells him. “I’m gonna make the server.”

Brooklynn groans. “Don’t name it anything stupid, Kenji.”

“I don’t even know why you bother,” Yaz says, propping her bandaged ankle up on her desk chair leg rest.

“Too late,” comes Kenji’s response. “I just sent you guys the server invite.”

Groans are heard all throughout headphones when they see the server named “trauma-craft.”

“Really, Kenji?” Sammy questions. “That’s not even remotely funny.”

“Yeah, yeah, just join the server.”

“Hey, guys,” Ben says. “How do I join the server?”

Brooklynn sighs. “Oh my God, Ben really?”

“I’ve never played!”

Darius and Brooklynn give Ben the run-down while the others join the server.

“What I’m most surprised about is that Yaz, of all people, has already played minecraft,” Kenji teases. He’s loaded into the world but so far it’s just him.

“Shut the hell up, Kenji,” is what Yaz tells him. She’s next to load in and the first thing she does is punch Kenji.

Sammy giggles. “You have to admit, Yaz, you’re not the type of person you'd think plays minecraft.” Her character spawns right next to Yaz.

Yasmina scoffs. “What’s that supposed to mean?”

“Nothing, Darling. Don’t worry about it.”

“All right, I think I got the hang of it,” Ben says. He, Brooklynn, and Darius finally join the game.

“The gang’s all here,” Kenji says triumphantly. He makes his avatar run around in circles as he sips from a (non-carob) juice box.

“Well, I think it’s obvious what we do next,” says Sammy. They all respond at once.

“Go mining,” Yaz says.

“Build a house,” comes Darius’ response.

“Make weapons?” Is Ben’s suggestion.

“Explore the map, obvi,” Brooklynn says.

There’s a moment of silence. Then comes Kenji’s voice. “Guys, guys. I think it’s obvious what we do first: punch a tree.”

“What I was going to say was we should go looking for a cute biome to live in,” Sammy answers.

Hey guys, Ben texts the group chat one day when he’s visiting Yaz in South Carolina. Yaz and I are going to get our ears pierced together.

It was a completely random decision that they made. Ben’s mom just so happened to have some work in South Carolina to take care of so Ben tagged along to pay one of his closest friends a visit. They had been hanging out at Yasmina’s house all day, just chilling and playing games, when Ben says, “We should get our ears pierced.”

Yasmina looks up from the deck of cards she’s holding. “I already have my ears pierced, Dummy.”

“Okay, well yeah, but I’ve been thinking of getting mine done.”

“Sick,” Yaz says. “Do you think your mom’ll go for it?”

“I mean, yeah probably.” He flops down on Yaz’s bed and stares at the ceiling. “My mom has been crazy nice to me lately. I think she feels guilty about sending me to Nublar.”

“Sending your kids to their presumed death will do that to you,” Yaz hums. “But yeah, my mom feels guilty about it too but it’s not their fault. We should be blaming Wu and the maniacs who made that place.”

“Oh, believe me. If I ever see Wu’s face again, I’m jumping his ass.”

Yaz smiles. “Perfect, we can tag-team him together.” The two fist bump and Yaz sets down her set of cards. “Now that you mention it… I wouldn’t mind getting a second piercing and Mom would totally let me. Do you think Sammy would like it?”

Ben laughs at the question. “I think Sammy would like anything you do. You could shave all of your hair off and she’d still love you. Have you guys said it yet, anyways? The “L” word? And no, I don’t mean lesbian.”

Yaz clicks her tongue against the roof of her mouth. “Yep, we have.”

“Yaz!” Ben exclaims, gripping Yasmina by the shoulders and shaking her while she fights the smile growing on her face.

She ducks her head down to hide the blush creeping onto her cheeks. “Anyways, let’s go ask our moms about getting our ears pierced.”

And that’s how Yaz and Ben end up at a tattoo parlor (don’t go to Claire’s, kids) sitting next to each other as they wait to get their ears pierced.

WHAT!? OMG SEND PICS WHEN YOUR DONE, comes Brooklynn’s reply.

When Ben sets his phone down he begins tapping his finger against the seat’s armrest. “Is it bad I’m getting kind of scared,” he asks, watching the man prepare the needle.

Yasmina rolls her eyes and laughs. “Man up, Pincus. What happened to the Ben who defeated Toro?”

At that Ben’s face reddens. When he said it back on the island a kajillion times, it was like a badge of honor, but back home on the mainland, whenever he told anyone they looked at him like they would a person who just lost an arm in a war: with pity. “Yea, yea. You’re right,” he says.

Their parents are waiting up front so it’s just the two of them until the piercers come up to them, needles primed. “Are you guys ready?”

Ben looks at Yaz for a split second and then nods to them. “Hold my hand,” he says, stretching his arm out towards Yasmina. She groans but holds it anyway.

Ben takes it like a champ. He hardly even notices when the needle pierces through his skin and the earring he chose is placed in the new hole. The second ear goes just as smoothly.

Yasmina isn’t as lucky.

She’s gotten her ears pierced before, back when she was younger, so she’s relaxed up until the point the piercer disappears behind her head. She’s right by Yaz’s ear and on the very edge of her sight to the point where Yaz can’t even see her, but her presence is certainly there.

Deep down, she knows that she’s not on Nublar and the woman right next to her isn’t a dinosaur coming to sink its teeth into her neck but her mind is a sick little thing that loves to seize her with fear. Yasmina closes her eyes but the image of Nublar won’t disappear and she’s certain that Blue is approaching her, hunting her. She has to run—but she can’t.

Ben’s calm until he notices Yasmina’s hand tighten around his and he glances at her to find her eyes shut tight and her knuckles turning white from gripping the armrest. The woman finishes with her just as quickly as Ben had but even when she walks away, Yaz is still hunched over and what hair that’s not in her ponytail shades her face.

“Yaz,” he says, hesitantly. “You good?”

“Mhm,” she responds, but Ben can tell that she’s not really there. He doesn’t know why he bothered asking when the answer was so plain to see, however he does know that he has to help her in some way. He knows Yaz isn’t one for touch but when he tries to pull away, her grip tightens around his wrist. “It’s over, Yaz,” he says. “You’re okay, I’m here.”

It takes a moment but eventually Yaz’s grip loosens and she sits up a little straighter. She’s still staring at the floor, though, and avoiding his gaze.

“Do you want some water?” Ben asks, before digging through his fanny pack which he still makes a habit of wearing. He takes out a mini water bottle and hands it to Yasmina who accepts it gratefully and downs it all in one gulp. “Thanks,” she whispers once she’s done.

“Of course,” Ben tells her.

#jwct countdown #jwct #jwcc #jurassic world camp cretaceous #jurassic world chaos theory #sammy gutierrez #yasmina fadoula #brooklynn jwcc #ben pincus #kenji kon

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whumpsoda · 7 months

Note

I raise to the anon that raised to the other anon

The two separate enthralled whumpee’s being put on a playdate to interact. Like the whumper’s are friends and maybe the first whumper have the second advice on how to effectively thrall someone.

Two whumpee’s both who are of reduced to pets being infatuated with each other. For the first time since enthrallment, they’re subtly trying to engage with the other and the whumper’s think it’s adorable.

WOHEO Masterlist

When I tell you I GIGGLED when I saw this

I really hope this is to your satisfaction :3

cw: dehumanization, pet whump

———————————————————————

“How was the trip over?”

As the two vampires exchanged pleasantries and small talk, the human delicately removed his glossy shoes, placing them on the dedicated rack. After taking care of his master’s shoes as well, he stood attentively, listening into the light conversation.

Nevan’s master had allowed for him to accompany him outside the mansion for the first time, at the request of his master’s close friend. They had apparently mentioned wanting a friend for their own thrall, and had considered Nevan was fit for the job.

The idea of socializing made him buzz, out of both excitement and raw nervousness.

A moment of awkward chatting soon passed, and Adrastus turned to him. “Good evening, Nevan, I am absolutely delighted Darius finally brought you over.”

Nevan slightly bowed his head, flustered from the sweetness coating the vampires voice. “Good evening, sir. It’s a pleasure to have been invited.” The vampire giggled sweetly, a hint of condescension glazing the noise.

They hooked a finger below Nevan’s chin, inspecting his face with a content smile. Nevan was enamored with the vampire, their strong aura of vampiric persuasion already making him dizzy.

He was instantly snapped out of the beginnings of a trance by the sound of his own master’s thick voice. “You had better remember the only reason you’ve left the house is because you have proved exceptionally good lately.” Nevan’s heart lifted at the praise.

“But, if you break that streak, you are not leaving the mansion until I bury you.” He watched terrified as his master stared into him with piercing eyes, more so distraught over the idea of displeasing his master rather than death. He nodded vigorously.

“Oh, Darius, give the boy a break. I highly doubt a cutie like him will do anything worthy of such a threat.” Adrastus caressed the human’s chin tenderly, before pulling away and giving their friend a playful glance. Darius simply rolled his eyes.

“Where’s yours?” He questioned.

The vampire clapped their hands together giddily, a beaming smile on their face. “Follow me! I am utterly thrilled that the two of you will get the chance to meet him!”

They led the way to a pair of elegant wood doors, the others following quick behind. “This is my bedroom, where my dearest spends most of his time,” as they spoke the vampire gently opened the doors, ready to quietly slip in. “Give me just one moment to wake him up a bit.”

After minutes of silent waiting, Adrastus energetically whisked the doors open. “Come in, come in!”

Nevan entered behind his master, basking in the view of the extravagance of the bedroom. Everything looked as if it could cost more than himself, and it probably did. His eyes trailed immediately to the lush, gigantic bed, only to land on someone sprawled on top.

The man was adorned with a lavish, fanciful dress, one similar to that pf which Nevan wore. He had shorter, messier cut hair, a face prickled with tiny hairs, and even while curled up loosely, he still appeared to be much larger than Nevan. He had intertwined himself in the fluffiest of blankets, as well as a mountain of the cutest stuffed toys.

Nevan studied the other thrall, admittedly a tad bit jealous, which of course he would never admit. Adrastus must have noticed him eyeing the man, thus grabbing his hand and pulling him over to the bed.

“Let me introduce you two. My precious has been so very excited to meet you!” They yanked him to the side of the bed, inches away from the thrall occupying it.

Adrastus crouched to the thrall’s level, affectionately stroking Malak’s face, and brushing stray hair strands away from his tired eyes. “Wakey wakey, love. No going back to bed right now, okay?” The human groaned quietly, slowly opening his heavy eyelids. With glossy, brown, doe-eyes, he stared adoringly at his own master.

Something bitter and unfamiliar began to coat Nevan’s stomach, sour and acidic. Maybe if he was that cute, his master would treat him like Adrastus did. Like a beloved pet rather than an irritating burden.

Adrastus placed one soft hand on Nevan’s arm, dissipating his difficult thoughts. “Pet, this is Nevan! That other little thrall I told you about!” They gestured to him, leading the human on the bed to lazily shift his gaze. Nevan gave him a small, polite wave.

Adrastus smiled, turning to him, ruffling their own human’s shaggy mess of hair. “This, is Malak. My beloved little thing.” They lovingly nuzzled their nose against that of the human’s. “He’s an adorable one, and I’d just be over the moon if you two could get along. He would be just ecstatic to have a little friend, wouldn’t you?” The human occupying the bed answered with a sluggish smile.

After a moment of smittenly petting their human, Adrastus jumped to their feet, leading Nevan to flinch. “Us vampires should best be going now, you two hang out here.” Nevan flashed them a fearful look. “We aren’t leaving, we’ll still be in the house.”

“Don’t be so tense. You should be able to handle not being around me all the time.” Darius pushed himself up from his leaning position near the door, glaring at his thrall. Nevan’s head swam in dismay, the bitter words of his master reverberating through his mind.

Adrastus practically ignored the other vampire’s irritation. “Before I go, I’ll grab you two a snack!” They gracefully reached into the gorgeous dresser in front of them, pulling out a bowl filled to the brim. “Candies! They’re my darling’s favorite.”

They plucked a wrapped sweet from the container, swiftly peeling it and plopping it into Malak’s parted mouth. The thrall leisurely savored the confection, snuggling deeper into the mattress with pleasure. “I’ll just leave these here if you two want any more. Bye bye, now!”

After pressing a nimble kiss to Malak’s forehead, they made a swift exit, yanking the other vampire along behind them.

“You spoil them too much. I mean, your thrall doesn’t even clean.”

“Well I like him that way.” They exclaimed, their voice disappearing down the hall.

Nevan stood, staring down at the other human, biting his lip nervously. His brain was barren, any possible social skills he had once held sucked from his mind. He hadn’t come in contact with anyone besides Darius for as long as he could remember, leaving him helpless in the current situation.

He fidgeted anxiously with his fingers, before the man on the bed began to move. Nevan startled, captivated as the other man lethargically rolled to the middle of the humongous bed, with a tired sigh.

Gulping down his jitters, he croaked out a question. “Can… um, may I sit?”

The other man gave him a quiet hum, of which he concluded to be in approval.

Nevan clumsily crawled atop the mattress, positioning himself in a slouching kneel. His gaze stayed rigid on the other man, who drowsily hugged onto the covers.

His throat was dry, and his forehead dripped with sweat. He had no clue what to say or do, terrified of messing the entire interaction up completely. He would never forgive himself if he’d ruined the only chance he would probably ever get to make a friend.

“Would, um, would you like another candy?” Malak faintly perked up, presumably from the mention of another sweet. Nevan took his slight animation as a yes, and thus grabbed a handful of snacks from the bowl.

With care, they unwrapped every one, consecutively dropping each into the open mouth of Malak. With each new delight, a gratified purr escaped the man’s lips, to the other’s contentment. Once all he had grabbed were gone, Nevan eyed the candies longingly.

His master never gave them sweets. Would he be mad if Nevan took one? He hadn’t said anything when the other vampire had offered him one earlier. It couldn’t hurt to take just one.

Timidly, he snagged an individual piece, eagerly dropping it atop his tongue. He relished in the luscious flavor, saliva enveloping the sweet as he twisted it along the walls of his mouth with his tongue. It tasted delicious.

He hoped this was how his master felt after feeding from him.

Nevan was pulled from his thoughts as he felt something pulling at the fabric of his dress. He looked down, meeting with the sight of Malak struggling to pull himself onto the other man’s lap. One of his hands gripped onto the skirt of the dress, the other trembled from the weakness of the thrall’s tired muscles.

After a moment of intense effort, he collapsed with his head resting on Nevan’s soft legs, whose face flushed with warmth. “O-oh. Is…is that nice?”

“Mmm…” the thrall nuzzled into the folds of the other man’s skirt, making himself comfortable.

Nevan began to softly run his fingers through the other man’s soft locks, absentmindedly smiling to himself over the way he leaned into the touch. “I bet that’s nice.”

Malak beamed gingerly, his cheek sinking into the mountain of fabric. “I guess you are pretty cute. I can see why your master loves you as much as they do.”

It made sense why Nevan would never be valued like Malak was, yet that didn’t make the pain stop. He wished he was worthy of such treatment, he really did, but he was already well aware that he was fit for the role of a stupid servant.

As he watched the other man sink deeper into pleasurable relaxation, couldn’t help but feel a similar weight grasping at him. The bed was deep and more than comfortable, practically calling for him to lay down.

Adrastus wouldn’t mind, right? If he lay down for a bit? They didn’t really seem like the type.

Lifting Malak’s head and gently placing it on a lush pillow, the man swayed onto the mattress. Instantly, as he made contact with the surface, Malak enveloped him into a warm, tight hug.

After the initial shock melted into elation, he drowsily wrapped his own slender arms around his new friend, earning him the sensation of Malak only snuggling into him more.

…

“Oh goodness, look how adorable they are!” Adrastus whispered gleefully, shaking the shoulder of the uninterested man beside them.

The two had finished their business unexpectedly early, and had returned to find their two humans intertwined with one another on the bed. They were both covered in a heavy pile of plush blankets, blissfully losing consciousness beside one another.

Malak was seemingly already fast asleep, while Nevan gazed at him affectionately, with eyelids threatening to fall. His fingers gradually sifted through the dormant man’s hair, as he quietly murmured what sounded to be a lullaby.

Adrastus just couldn’t help but gush over the sight. “You must look at this! It may just be the cutest thing I’ve ever seen!” Darius huffed, before turning to look into the room.

To his surprise, he agreed. “I suppose.” He mumbled, fighting the urge to smile even the slightest.

Adrastus was beaming, euphorically giggling with joy at the sight. “I don’t think I can contain myself, they’re too precious! You must bring your little pet over more often!” They held a captivated look, as if entranced by the dreamy sight.

Before Darius could even reply, the other vampire had already danced into the room, determined to shower the two humans with overwhelming endearment.

They slid in between the two, planting saccharine kisses to the skin of both thralls. They caressed both lovingly as well, whispering sweet nothings into their ears until both were effectively deeply asleep.

“Just marvelous, the two of you. I wish you both the sweetest of dreams.” They purred, casting a wave of heavenly bliss across their beloved pets.

#My writing #asks :)#whump #whumpblr #pet whump #whump writing #hypnosis whump #vampire whump #vampire whumper #human whumpee #non human whumper #vampire #Malak oc #Nevan oc #Adrastus oc #Darius oc

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otomiyaa · 3 months

Note

do you have any ToT fics?

Mr. Mouse

Lee!Marius & NXX Squad ft. Reader

[Fic Reupload] - Haha I thought you were crying but then thought oh right I've been sharing Tears of Themis posts lately. Well I've got one, only one, apart from some drabbles scattered around. I'll reupload the fic ^^ It's not lee Luke though, but Marius. (Also on AO3)

Word Count: 3.1K

The mood was dark and heavy. Though it had been your intention to shift the team’s focus off the complex investigation case just for a little, you did not expect it would arise new complications.

All you had done was suggest a funny game for some team bonding, fun, and to have a laugh, since there was just too much tension in this team and definitely not enough laughter. Alas, there was little to no laughter at all as the men glared at each other, even while playing the game.

"Guys...” you whispered, watching them nervously.

Even with those stupid cards sticking to their foreheads it didn’t look at all like the lighthearted situation it should be. Marius and Artem were exchanging death stares as if they could fly over the table any second and clash. Vyn appeared to be judging their behavior quietly, a little pile of successfully guessed cards of his own proudly placed before him as he stared at the duo with piercing eyes. And Luke...

“Luke,” Marius suddenly called out, glancing sideways at Luke who was, just like you were, observing the two nervously. “I’ll ask again, Luke. Am I Mr. Artem Wing?” Marius asked. Luke was stuttering, but couldn’t get in between them again with a firm ‘no’ or anything else, given the tense atmosphere.

Marius already continued to speak: “Summarizing all of your answers, I am a male, I am old, I am not big, but I do have big earsー”

“Mr. Wing does not have big ears though,” you whispered, but Marius didn’t hear and continued.

“You are also an animal, Marius. You are forgetting a key part of the interrogation,” Vyn said in all seriousness. You should have known. There was no such thing as playing a fun and simple game of Who Am I? with the NXX gang.

“Ah, an animal. Right. I stick to my guess. Mr. Wing is also kind of an animal,” Marius said, shrugging. Artem glared.

“Your insults are getting less and less creative. I suggest you proceed with more clever guesses, or you should just give up and admit you cannot guess the character,” he said. Ah, these two really weren’t getting along! Still, it was hard to fight back your giggles as you felt your lips twitch unwillingly.

On Marius’ forehead was the card that said ‘Mickey Mouse’ and for the past ten minutes it had been him trying to guess the name which was not that difficult. From Elvis to Sherlock Holmes, Harry Potter, Leonardo da Vinci, Darius Morgan, Phoenix Wright and Mark Zuckerberg, everyone else including yourself had already finished some interrogation rounds successfully and guessed the right names.

It was just Marius who was still Mickey Mouse for such a long while since the start of the game that all of you had decided to focus your attention on him alone until he would guess it right. Though usually enjoying to be in the spotlight, Marius did seem to get annoyed and had been trying to wriggle his way out of it by provoking Artem.

“Ask more about the animal’s nature,” Vyn suggested.

“Or his career,” Luke said.

Marius rolled his eyes, a confused look on his face that said ‘an animal’s career?’ but he sighed and growled, “Fine. Am I a monkey?”

“No,” chirped Luke.

“Am I a cat? Or a dog?”

“No and no,” Vyn said.

“A fish?” You shook your head at him. Marius made a wild gesture with his hands.

“A bear?”

“Nope,” Artem said. There was definitely something smug about Artem’s attitude, and unfortunately Marius did not miss this. He lunged towards him and sneered, “Ah I see. You thought of a difficult name for me, just to finally have something I am not better at. Hm?”

“Just keep guessing, Marius,” you tried gently, but Marius was fixated on Artem again and you were kind of relieved that he didn’t catch Luke’s very soft “It’s not that difficult though...” because if he did, Luke would be enjoying all of that attention that was going to Artem now.

“Looks like we’ll still be here tomorrow,” was Artem’s calm remark, sparking Marius’ irritation again. There had been something mischievous about the usual serious Artem all day, something childish yet not more childish than Marius himself, and you were torn between amusement and fear of this all escalating into something bad.

“Rosa~ Help me out here? They are bullying me,” Marius whined like a child, pouting at you. It was hilarious how he really did seem at loss with this game, and it didn’t even seem to cross his mind that you were the one who came up with the idea to play this in the first place. Or better, that it was your very own hand that wrote the name 'Mickey Mouse' for Marius to guess.

“Just keep on guessing. You are really close,” you encouraged him. He wasn’t close though. You could tell Marius had still no idea.

“Perhaps he will need a hand,” Vyn said. Marius let out a sudden guffaw.

“Oh you guys are loving this aren’t you? The only way you guys can beat me is with silly games, or maybe even a prank. I’m not gonna be surprised if I take this off and there’s no name on it. It’s getting shady, why am I the only one who’s an animal?” Marius said, grabbing at the card on his forehead, but Luke reached out swiftly and caught his arm.

“Hey, don’t take it off now!” the brunet warned. Marius was sort of right. The guys were enjoying the hilarity of Marius failing at something as simple as a guessing game, but there was no prank going on here. Marius really failed gloriously and you couldn’t blame them - especially Artem - for rubbing salt into the wound.

“See? You don’t want me to see you’re fooling me huh?” Marius said, trying to pull his arm free from Luke who held him with both hands, but Marius reached for the card again with his other hand. This time Vyn got up fast and stood behind Marius, where he grabbed both his arms and moved them behind the seat.

“You are going to play fairly, Marius. This’ll be a temporary measure to make sure you do,” he said, taking off his own tie and using it to bind his hands behind the chair. Marius laughed out loud again.

“Come on now! As if you guys are playing fairly! This is so childish!”

“Or you are the childish one. Just because you are finally bad at something doesn’t mean it isn’t fair. You’ll have to accept you can’t be good at everything,” Artem lectured.

“Oh yeah? Well, it’s not that I don’t want to play a game, I just don’t want to cooperate with your pranks! I’m going home,” Marius said, but Vyn tightened the light bondage on Marius’ hands and said: “Oh but you’re not going anywhere. And it’s not a prank, Marius. It is a fair game.”

“Rosa, help!” Marius made a scene on purpose, still smug and at the same time dramatic about the whole situation, and you shook your head at him.

Vyn sat down again, but Luke leaned towards Marius and poked him teasingly between the ribs.

“I’ll give you a hint. The sort of animal you are tends to get stuck by human traps as well,” he said, but the poke caused a different reaction than everyone expected. Marius literally squeaked.

Your eyes widened. Marius von Hagen.... Could he be.... Ticklish? Judging from the look on Artem’s face, he seemed to notice too.

“The animal makes a similar sound too,” he said, poking Marius as well from the other side, making him squeak again.

“EEP!”

“The animal does, but the character does not make such a sound,” Luke said, watching how Artem’s single finger poked Marius not one, not two, but three more times.

“Haha-hands off, Artem, you don’t want to face the consequences once I get out of this,” Marius argued, dancing uncomfortably.

“Hm. That’s… quite an attitude for someone in your position,” Artem retorted, and this time he made a claw of his hand, digging his fingers into Marius’ torso and getting him to let out another lovely squeak. Luke snickered.

“Shall we tickle him? he suggested, wiggling his fingers.

“We could. Until he guesses it right.”

It was hard to believe what was happening here. You saw how both Artem and Luke surrounded Marius who sat tied to his chair thanks to Vyn’s bondage skills, and their fingers started to poke and prod his sides. Marius threw his head back, the card sticking to his forehead like magic while he let out the loudest most hysterical giggles.

“GAhaha-guhuhuys! Y-you ahahar the wohohorst!”

You gaped at them and exchanged looks with Vyn. He was smirking. “Amused aren’t you?” he murmured while in the background, Marius continued to laugh because of Artem and Luke tickling him. Artem was calm and collected, tickling Marius with this concentrated look as if he was some kind of work project. Luke was much more playful and smug about it.

“Heehee, take that! Well, aren’t you gonna guess?” he sang.

You chuckled at Vyn. “Yeah. Amused, and confused. What is even happening?” you giggled, amazed that even Artem would do something of such a childish nature. Perhaps everyone would act a little different if a bratty person like Marius was involved.

“Well, I can tell you what’s happening. They are tickling him. What do you say, shall we help out?” Vyn asked you, leaning close as if the two of you were having an intimate and personal moment in the middle of the tickle fest.

“Should we?” you asked, smirking. Vyn shrugged.

“I think we should.” And so you two rolled your chairs towards where Marius was laughing for his dear life.

“I refuhuhuse to plahahay your stuhuhupid gahahames!” he laughed, and he shrieked even louder when you joined in, clawing at his tummy while Artem continued to tickle his ribs and sides, and Luke was playfully wriggling his fingers under his arms, tickling his armpits.

“You’ll have to, Marius. Continue playing, I will be the one to answer your questions,” Vyn said, sitting right before him with his hands on his knees. He squeezed, and Marius let out a loud gasp.

“AHAHah!” His eyes widened, and you could see the realization on his face. He was stuck. He struggled with his bound arms, but even if he were to shake the tie off, you were certain these guys would not let him go easily. Heh. Neither would you. This was actually fun.

“Ahaham I a rahahabit?!” Marius finally laughed, and you couldn’t help but giggle along. He was both cute and hilarious right now, and you continued to dance your fingers all over his belly. Vyn snickered and shook his head.

“No, you are not.”

“S-sehehehe, squirrel! A squirrehehel!”

“No,” Artem said firmly.

“A rahhaahat?!” Marius roared.

Luke giggled. “Close, but no!”

“AHAHAH! A MOUSEehehee! A stuhuhupid mouse!”

Vyn smiled. “Correct.” To help ‘celebrate’, Luke switched to tickling Marius’ neck with scribbly finges as he taunted, “Bingo, finally you guessed something right! You are a mouse!” and meanwhile Artem continued to squeeze and pinch at different spots on Marius’ torso, from his upper sides to lower sides, his hips and back up towards his ribs, causing him to bounce hysterically.

“Thehehen stahahhap!” he laughed.

“You are not there yet, Marius. You are a mouse, continue guessing.”

“WHahahaht!”

“Like I said, ask about his career!” Luke said, going back to tickling Marius’ underarms. Marius was giggling and snorting adorably, the grin on his face bigger than ever and a huge blush spreading on his cheeks.

“GAahahah-- a cohohop!?” he asked. Vyn shook his head.

“Can you name any mouse cop? You’ll have to do better than that, Marius,” he said, and he spidered his fingers all over Marius knees and thighs, making the poor ticklish heir bark out some more hysterical cackles.

“GAAGAHha! Not thehehere!” he roared. You were still tickling Marius’ tummy, gently and not too harshly, but you couldn’t help but move up his shirt a little and scribbled circles around on his stomach, fluttering all over the soft bare skin. Marius seemed to get even more flustered at this, and he shook his head. The card threatened to fall off, but Artem slapped it firmly back on Marius’ head, making the guy yelp out loud.

“HAHAHA! Artehehem you ahahaass-ahaha!”

“Marius, remember the questions I asked when I was Harry Potter,” you tried to help him fondly even though you couldn’t stop your fingers from tickling Marius’ sensitive tummy without mercy.

“HEYAhah!” Marius squealed and shook his head again, but this time the card was glued firmly to his forehead, and he continued his hysterical laughing fit.

“Hahahha! Ahaham I on T-Teehehee-TV?!” Marius laughed, indeed succeeding to copy your questions from earlier.

“Correct.”

“OHOhoh! Ahaham I Jeheherry?!” Marius really appeared like he thought he finally guessed correct, but Vyn’s answer was a teasy “No~” and he punished the wrong guess with fierce squeezes right above Marius’ knees, making him howl for his ticklish life.

“AHhahahah! Nohhoho thihis ihiihisn’t fahahahair!” he laughed. You smiled, wonderstruck by how attractive the young heir looked laughing his head off like this.

“It’s a little fair, Marius. Continue guessing, you’re so close,” you encouraged.

“Come on man, can’t you really think of any other famous mouse on TV?” Luke asked - his tickles were the most energetic, switching from rapid pokes and finger wiggles and switching spots even when it would cause his hands to bump against yours or Artem's.

“PIHIHIKACHU!” Marius roared. Luke frowned.

“That’s a mouse?” he asked, to which you nodded.

“Actually it is. But wrong guess, Marius!”

By now Marius was really turning beet red as he continued to laugh and struggle. Artem had been quiet for a while, tickling Marius with concentration and focus of a typical lawyer, and he smirked as he drilled his fingers between Marius’ ribs.

“I think it is a talent in itself that you give so many wrong guesses, Von Hagen,” he said, triggering Marius but all the graduate student could do was laugh and giggle more as he was attacked from all sides. You only noticed now that his arms were already free again after so much struggling, but both Artem and Luke were holding an arm each, and Marius could do very little with the strength he had left.

Using their free hands, both men continued to tickle him, making him giggle and squeal even when he was nearly out of breath.

“Guess it right, or give up,” Artem said. Vyn made a face at that.

“Mr. Wing is right,” he said teasingly. “If you would like, you can give up. It means you lose the game.”

Marius made a face that expressed his surprise and confusion that giving up was still a possibility. But then he shouted “Nahaha-neheheever!” while continuing to squirm in between them.

“Then have it your way~!” Luke said, getting up from where he was sitting so he could tickle his armpits more comfortably.

“Heeehehehehe! Nahahaha!” You were getting the impression that stubborn Marius was going to laugh himself to death here if he couldn’t still guess the character that wasn’t even so hard.

Maybe you were enjoying yourself a little too much by bullying your ticklish partner like this, and not just for evil reasons. But when you looked at Artem, Luke and Vyn, you recognized expressions that matched your mood as well. They all looked fond to have the usually arrogant heir laughing like this and refusing to give in.

“Ahahaahahlright I gihihive! Guhuhhuys, enahahaa-enough! I gihiive uuhup!” he finally wheezed. Surprised he still didn’t guess it, you were the first to stop tickling his stomach, and you sat back. Luke also stopped tickling, so did Artem, and finally Vyn stopped the squeezing and digging movements his hands were making on Marius’ legs.

Leaning forward and bending his head, Marius panted and wheezed, catching his breath tiredly. And as he did, the card finally let go of his sweaty forehead and twirled down onto his lap. It fell with the text upwards, and you could see the realization on Marius’ face as he read it:

Mickey Mouse.

“N-no way,” he panted.

“Not so hard, huh? Can’t believe you didn’t think of the most famous mouse in the world,” Luke said smugly, patting Marius’ shoulder.

“Like I said, you can’t be good at everything,” Artem said, patting his other shoulder.

“Unbelievable... Mi-Mickey Mouseー” Marius panted, and he raised his head suddenly and glared at everyone.

“You wrote my card, didn’t you-- R-Rosa?” he panted, smirking at you despite his exhausted state. You blinked your eyes.

“King,” you said, using his codename like he kept using yours, and you smiled nervously.

“She did,” Vyn said, standing behind you with both hands on your shoulders.

“Anything you want to tell her, Mr. Mouse?” he asked. You giggled at the new nickname for Marius, but noticed this certain teasy remark wasn’t necessarily directed at Marius. Gulp. You looked up at Vyn. Why was this situation suddenly getting suspicious?

“It was also not our idea to play this game. You can’t blame us,” Luke suddenly said. You gasped, turning your head towards him. Wha--?! Yes, it was your idea, so...? You finally looked at Artem, your eyes begging for his help, but you blushed to see the smirk on his face.

“Clever. You perhaps knew that such classic pop culture is Marius’ weakness? Are you the mastermind behind all this?” he said. You started to stutter, blushing like crazy. They were placing the blame for their stupid quarrels and the tickle incident ー which you joined but that wasn’t the point ー on you!

“N-no of course nohot! Marius I thought it wahahasn’t difficult, ahaahah M-Mariuhuuus!” you whined when Marius lunged at you and started to avenge whatever was left of his dignity by tickling you, the one most responsible for his predicament just now.

“Guys, I might just forgive you for what you did to me if you help me out right now,” Marius purred, smirking at the others. It was no surprise after what all of them said, but still to suddenly have the tables turned with you ending up in Marius’ position of the one tickled by all of the NXX squad, well, that was something you could never ever be properly prepared for.

“HAHahaha- guuuuys!” you howled, but these four had the time of their lives wrecking you, and you were surprised at their well-played teamwork.

Well all in all, you had achieved your goal though: team bonding, check. Having fun, check. Having a laugh? Thanks to Mr. Mouse, double check!

#reupload #tears of themis #tot #tickling #tickle fic #marius von hagen #x reader #vyn richter #luke pearce #artem wing #otomiya!writes #lee!marius #ler!artem #ler!vyn #ler!luke #ler!reader

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