#I get the feeling he's going to be just as completely humiliated as Link was

[skyloftian-nutcase]

Veil

Abel held the veil at arm's length as if it would attack him. "You want. To do. What."

"Well if they only let women in, we have to obtain information somehow," Rusl shrugged. "You're smaller in build than me, and your hair's all grown out."

If looks could kill, Abel would have cut Rusl into pieces.

[yuujispinkhair]

Brother (Part 1)

When you start dating Yuuji, you don't know that your sweet sunshine boy has an evil twin who wants to have his brother's girl, too.

Halloween Masterlist 2023

Pairing: Sukuna x Reader (female) + Yuuji x Reader Genre: Horror, smut Word Count: 3.5k Warnings: 18+, dark content, consensual sex with Yuuji + noncon with Sukuna. Rough sex, degradation, humiliation, getting called slut, whore, cheater. Forced orgasms, pussy spanking, squirting, cumshots. Sukuna isn't a nice guy in this story. Sukuna and Yuuji look completely alike. Sukuna doesn't have his tattoos. All characters are of age. This story is 18+. Minors don't interact.

The room is dimly lit, filled with the loud chatter of people and the music playing on the stereo. The small space is filled to the brim, bodies lightly brushing against each other. Someone walks past you, pushing you against the boy standing before you. But you don't mind. You are already wrapped in his strong embrace. Your hands are linked behind his neck, your fingers playing with the short hair of his undercut, and your lips are locked with his in a slow, deep kiss.

You have been dating Yuuji for a month, and things are going great. He is cute, loving, and fun. His kisses are sweet, and his dick makes you feel like you're on cloud nine. He is the most caring guy you ever met.

You pull away from the kiss to catch your breath, and Yuuji smiles. That big sunshine smile that made you instantly say yes when he asked you for your phone number. His large hands caress the small of your back through your shirt. His warm, golden eyes meet yours.

"I'll get us something to drink. What do you want, cutie?"

You grin up at Yuuji, feeling the butterflies in your stomach flutter like crazy. He is so pretty and so sweet to you.

"A coke would be great. Thank you, baby."

Yuuji pulls you into another tight hug and presses a quick but enthusiastic kiss on your cheek before he leaves for the kitchen.

You decide to head to the bathroom while he is getting your drinks. And so you make your way through the crowded living room and into the hallway, still smiling, still feeling your lips tingle from the sweet kisses Yuuji gave you.

Your hand lands on the door handle to the bathroom when a muscular pair of arms slips around your waist. You look over your shoulder and blink in surprise.

"Yuuji! I thought you wanted to grab something to drink?"

But Yuuji just grins at you, and his large hands land on your hips. Before you can react, his tall, muscular body presses against your back, and he shoves you into the bathroom.

You stumble inside, laughing a bit breathlessly as you turn around to see your boyfriend lock the door behind you.

Your heart is racing, and you chuckle softly. Oh, sweet Yuuji isn't a good boy all the time, huh? You feel a bit embarrassed when you think of the people who must have seen the two of you disappear in the bathroom, but the idea of being in here with your boyfriend while a party is happening right outside the door is exciting.

You cock your head and ask teasingly,

"Couldn't wait until we are back home? I didn't know you were such a naughty boy."

Yuuji turns around to look at you, and your breath catches in your throat. He has the same pretty pink hair as always and the same handsome face, but somehow he seems different. He looks at you with an unveiled hunger and a feral glint in his eyes.

Somehow, the usually so sweet and loving boy looks intimidating. And somehow, it makes your pussy clench.

He walks towards you slowly and gracefully, reminding you of a big cat, a predator, cornering his prey. Instinctively, you try to step back but find yourself unable to do so as your back presses against the sink behind you.

Even Yuuji's voice sounds different. Dangerous, low, and husky.

"Yeah, I want to take you in here and see you struggle to keep your mouth shut when I fuck you."

You gulp. Yuuji has never talked to you like that. Dirty talk, yes, but always in a loving manner. Never like this. What is going on? Is this some kind of kinky roleplay he wants to try?

He has closed the short distance between you now and stops before you, tall and buff. You gulp. Usually, Yuuji's broad and tall figure doesn't feel intimidating. He is such a gentle guy who makes you feel safe. But right now, here in this dimly lit bathroom, you suddenly become frighteningly aware of the power imbalance between you. How tall and big he is, how strong, a body packed with firm muscles. He could do anything with you.

You feel the short hairs on your arms stand up, and your pulse flutters nervously as you look up at him. He is towering over you, tall and strong, his hands balled into fists at his sides.

You draw in a sharp breath when one of his large hands grabs your chin to tilt your head up roughly. For a split second, you look into eyes that should feel familiar but don't. But then his lips capture yours in a hard kiss. You whimper as he pries your lips open forcefully, pushing his tongue deep into your mouth without warning.

This doesn't feel like the two of you are sharing a kiss. It feels like he is taking a kiss from you by force.

Something feels off. This guy who is kissing you doesn't kiss like your sweet sunshine boy, Yuuji. Is he drunk? But no, you were with him until a few minutes ago, and he didn't drink a single drop of alcohol because he has a game tomorrow and needs to be sober.

He pulls away, leaving you stunned and panting heavily.

"Y... Yuuji, what.."

But he already grabs you tightly and turns you around so your front is pressed against the sink, and his tall, buff body is pressing against your back, caging you in.

You look into the mirror, seeking his gaze in the reflection. What you see in the flickering light of the old fluorescent bathroom lamp makes a cold sensation pool in your gut.

The usual sunshine smile, which is so typical for Yuuji, is gone and replaced by a cruel sneer. His usually warm golden eyes fix you with a cold stare, and the lighting in here makes them glow almost red.

Yuuji's large hands are moving over your body now, groping you, squeezing your flesh, and tugging on your clothes, and suddenly, you are filled with a strange fear. This doesn't feel right. You don't like the way Yuuji acts all of a sudden. Almost as if he is a completely different person.

"S...stop! Yuuji, what are you doing?"

"Don't call me that name."

You feel like someone pulled the rug out from under you. Your head is spinning. What is happening? What does he mean?

"W... what?"

He smirks at you in the mirror, and then he starts laughing. But it's not a fun laughter, not the type of laughter that tells you this was all just a stupid joke. It's a cruel, mocking laughter that fills you with dread.

"Oh, you are such a dumb little thing, huh?"

"What do you mean? Yuuji, please, what is going on? Stop it! You are scaring me!"

"Aww, and she still doesn't get it! Stupid little girl. Need me to explain it to you, huh?"

His voice is dripping with fake pity, and his next words make your world flip upside down.

"I'm not Yuuji. I'm Sukuna, his twin."

His lips lift in a triumphant, cruel smirk, and his hold on you tightens, long fingers digging painfully into your flesh.

The room around you seems to spin. In the distance, you hear the muted noises of the party. The bass of the song currently playing in the living room and the chatter of the other party guests. But they all seem to be a hundred miles away. You are all alone here with him. With Sukuna. With that guy who has the same face and body as your sweet boyfriend but who is nothing like him.

Your voice sounds strange to your ears, slurred and too slow. Maybe it's the fear that's making you hear weirdly. Maybe it's the rushing of your own blood in your ears that makes everything sound wrong. What you say sounds stupid even to yourself.

"Yuu...Yuuji never mentioned a brother..."

As if that can help you.

"Oh, I'm not surprised that the brat didn't tell you about me. My family doesn't like talking about me. They like to pretend I don't exist. I am the wrong twin, the evil and unwanted one. You could call me the family curse."

Fear is washing over you, filling your stomach with a tight knot. Your lips tremble as you whisper,

"Please, let go of me."

"Aww, I don't think so, princess. You and I will have some fun now. Yuuji should learn to share his toys. He's not being a very nice brother. Keeping you so selfishly all to himself. But I will take what I want."

Sukuna's hands slip under your shirt, yanking forcefully on it, and finally, your fight or flight response kicks in, and you cry out loudly, throwing your whole body weight against the man behind you, trying to wriggle free of his grasp. Your hands land on his, desperately clawing at them, trying to get them off your body.

But to no avail. Sukuna is too strong for you. He presses his tall, muscular body even tighter against your back, letting you feel the hard bulge in his pants, which sends an even stronger wave of panic over you. His mocking laughter fills your ear as he leans down so his lips brush over your earlobe.

"Yeah, fight back, come on! I like them bratty! Makes me want to break you even more! You make me so hard when you struggle against me!"

His words make you sob fearfully. How could things go so wrong? How did you end up in this situation? Your body is still struggling instinctively against him, trying to get away from him, trying to run.

But you know you cannot escape. Sukuna has trapped you between his buff body and the sink. His large hands are already tearing your clothes off, pulling your shirt over your head and throwing it to the floor, yanking down your bra to make your tits spill out, shoving down your pants and panties, exposing you to him and his hungry gaze in the mirror.

"My brother picked a pretty little thing. Let's see how good that pussy is."

Your eyes widen, making you look like a terrified ghost in the flickering light of the dimly lit bathroom.

You can feel Sukuna working on the zipper of his pants while you are frozen in fear. And then his hot, wet cock slips between your thighs. It's all going so fast that you don't even have time to react before you feel his fat cockhead pushing between your pussy lips and rubbing over your hole.

That's the moment when you start screaming.

But a large hand gets pressed on your mouth instantly, muffling your scream and turning it into a pathetic-sounding whine.

"Tsk tsk. If I were you, I'd shut up, brat. What do you think will happen if someone hears you and kicks down the door? Hm?"

He sounds amused by your fear. Amused and turned on.

"I'll tell you since you aren't very smart. They will see me and think I am Yuuji. And then they will say, 'Sorry for disturbing you. We will let you have fun with your girl,' clap me on the back, and leave again. No one will think my sweet, sunshine boy of a brother would ever hurt his pretty little girlfriend. Everyone loves Yuuji. No one will come to save you from him. I can fuck you all I want, and there is nothing you can do."

And with that, Sukuna rams his cock into you, splitting you open forcefully around his fat length. The burn is immense. Tears prick at your eyes, and you scream again, out of pain this time.

When Yuuji fucks you, you feel a slight burn too, anytime he finally pushes his whole thick cock into you. He is a big boy, always filling your pussy so completely. But with Yuuji, it's a good burn, the kind that makes you push needily against him, moaning his name and wanting him to fuck you even deeper. With Yuuji, it is loving and sweet, and you always know he will take the best care of you, making sure to please you.

With Sukuna, it is nothing like that. He is taking you by force, fucking you raw with hard, brutal thrusts while he's growling in your ear like a wild animal. Using you and fucking you as if he is punishing you for choosing his brother and not him.

Hot tears stream down your face, smearing your makeup, and you sob into Sukuna's large hand that is still pressed tightly over your mouth.

You have stopped struggling by now. There is no use anyway. You have resigned yourself to your fate. You know you will not get out of here if he doesn't want it. You will just let him use you, hoping it will be over fast, and he will leave again just as quickly as he came into your life.

You slump against him bonelessly, feeling so helpless and small in his large hands, getting used and fucked, trembling and shaking with every brutal shove of his cock.

The initial pain has lessened, and by now, you only feel the familiar stretch of a fat Itadori cock.

That's the worst thing. You know the feeling of getting fucked with this cock. This is Yuuji's twin...they are identical. Their cocks are exactly the same. You know that thickness, that length, that vein on the underside. You know this cock, that fills your pussy so perfectly as if it was made for you. That cock that always hits the spot that makes you cry with pleasure.

You hate yourself for it, but you are getting wet. Even when Sukuna takes you so brutally and against your will, this cock makes you wet. This cock makes your cunt clench greedily around it as if she is begging him for more, betraying you in the worst way.

And it doesn't go unnoticed by your captor. Sukuna's taunting laugther fills your ears,

"Aww, someone's little pussy is getting wet. You like that, huh? You like getting fucked by me. You cannot hide it when your cunt is drooling all over my cock like that. Naughty little slut likes it rough, huh?"

Sukuna grabs your chin, digging his nails into your skin, and forces you to lift your head so you stare directly into the mirror.

Your scared, wide eyes stare back at you, wide open, tears mixed with mascara running down your cheeks, your lips grotesquely puckered up by the way Sukuna's hand is pressing your cheeks together. And behind you is he.

The evil twin. The monster that carries the same face as your sweet boyfriend. But he looks nothing like Yuuji right now. His eyes glitter with malice, and his face is contorted in a taunting smirk.

"Watch yourself getting fucked. Look at you, you cheating whore! Cheating on my sweet brother. You get off on that, huh, you little slut? Getting so wet for me. Are you gonna cum on my cock?"

Every taunting word is accompanied by a hard thrust. Sukuna seems to be so feral, so out of control, but the way he fucks you shows you that he is fully in control of his own actions. Everything he does is done purposefully. Every brutal thrust hits the spot, making his fat cockhead torture your sweet spot unrelentingly, making pleasure build deep inside you even while you try everything to fight it.

You don't want to cum for him! You don't want this monster to be able to fuck an orgasm out of you!

"Aww, I can already feel your greedy little pussy tightening around me. You cheating slut are really gonna cum on my cock, huh? Are you gonna cum? Yeah?"

Your pussy twitches wildly, clenching hard on Sukuna's unrelenting cock, coating him in your cream. And he fucks it back into you with his thick length, brutally stuffing you over and over again, his cockhead torturing your g-spot, hammering brutally against it until you can't take it anymore.

You cry loudly into his hand, your body jerking violently as your orgasm crashes over you against your will, fucked out of you by force, and you squirt all over Sukuna's cock and the floor.

You feel so humiliated, so ashamed as your juices run down your legs, and you cannot stop your body from making a mess.

Sukuna basks in your humiliation, taunting you for it, smirking and laughing at you.

"Aww, princess couldn't keep it in, huh? Got fucked so good she squirted. Tell me, are you such a squirter, too, when my brother fucks you? Are you bathing his cock in your juices too? Nah, I think this is your first time making such a mess, huh? Needed a real man to make that pussy cum so much. You are so pathetic. Cumming so fast on my cock. It must really turn you on to get fucked by your boyfriend's brother."

You close your eyes, feeling more hot tears well up, this time out of shame and guilt, while Sukuna pushes his fat cock in and out of you, fucking you hard and fast.

"Open your eyes, slut."

A hard slap lands on your puffy clit, and you scream into Sukuna's hand as your hips buck wildly.

Another cruel chuckle is breathed against your ear.

"You like that, you filthy slut?"

Sukuna laughs, and his hand connects with your clit again, hard and mean, making you howl into his big hand.

A growl is exhaled against your ear, and Sukuna pulls his fat cock out of you almost the whole way before slamming it back into you with a brutal snap of his hips while he spanks your clit again, abusing your sensitive cunt from both sides. With his cock and his hand.

You hoped he would let go of you after he forced an orgasm out of you, but Sukuna isn't finished with you. Another firm slap lands on your clit, making your body convulse uncontrollably, and a loud, broken sob escapes your lips.

"Such sweet sounds you make. You like that, huh? Yeah, I got you, little dumb thing. Gonna slap another one out of that needy little cunt. Come on, beg me, slut!"

He takes his hand off your mouth, laughing at the thick thread of spit and snot that still connects it with your lips. His glittering eyes fix you with a cruel gaze in the mirror.

"I said, beg."

You hiccup, your voice hoarse and full of tears,

"P... Please, Sukuna, please stop."

But he laughs mockingly and shakes his head,

"That's not what I meant. I want you to beg me to fuck you and make you squirt again."

You don't have it in you anymore to fight back or disobey him. Maybe if you do what he says, it will be over soon. But you feel horrible when you open your mouth to say those words.

"Please fuck me..."

"And?"

"P... Please make me squirt again, S...Sukuna."

He pinches your clit, making you gasp.

"Not convincing enough. Try again."

"Pl... please, Sukuna, please let me cum on your cock again! Please fuck me! Please, I... I need your cock so bad! Please let me squirt on it!"

He makes a sound that is a mix between a moan and a chuckle.

"Slut."

You're crying again, but you can't even tell anymore why. Out of shame, out of fear, out of the pain of being so overstimulated, out of pleasure you don't want to feel.

Desperate mewls and sobs leave your trembling lips as Sukuna rubs your clit roughly with two calloused fingers so fast that your hips are jerking wildly. He has absolute power over you. Switching between rubbing rough, fast circles around your puffy clit and spanking it hard with the palm of his hand while he keeps your wet messy hole stuffed with his thick cock, drilling his swollen tip unrelentingly into your sweet spot.

Your pussy is clenching so wildly on him that you cannot hide your arousal from him. And he soaks it up, watching you with hungry eyes in the mirror, with that sadistic smirk on his face, eyes full of smug glee while he taunts you for cumming on him, telling you how bad you are, how naughty for doing this to his poor brother.

You feel like a rag doll in his arms, weak and helpless, head lolling back against his broad shoulders, weakly watching in the dirty bathroom mirror how Sukuna humiliates you. Your legs are shaking, your tits are bouncing sluttily from how hard he is handling you, and your mouth is hanging open in desperate soft mewls, so close to blacking out from exhaustion.

But Sukuna spanks your pussy, firm slap after slap onto your swollen clit, which is already puffy from the overstimulation, making your little abused bud pulse hotly with pain and pleasure until it becomes unbearable. Your breath quickens, coming out in desperate gasps as your pussy tightens around Sukuna again.

And before you know it, you squirt again, onto his cock and his hand, losing all control of your body, unable to stop cumming. Watching in utter shame as Sukuna keeps slapping your clit, making your juices spray everywhere, spanking your pussy until you have given him every last drop.

He laughs, pulling out of you, apparently finally satisfied with the state he fucked you into.

Without his strong body behind you, you can't stay on your feet anymore, and you fall to the floor, where you lie in a crumbled heap. And Sukuna stands over you, one foot on each side of your body. He is so tall, so big, and menacing. But you can't do anything but look up at him dazedly, watching as he fists his fat cock with fast, firm strokes, jerking off over you while he smirks at you.

"Open your mouth, slut."

It doesn't matter anymore. He has already taken everything from you, and so you open your mouth obediently, sticking your tongue out for him, looking up at Sukuna with tear-stained eyes as you wait for him to finish.

You see his cock twitch in his hand and hear the low groan in the back of his throat. And then his cum shoots out of his fat mushroom tip and rains down on you in milky thick threads. His seed lands on your face and body, hot and thick, desecrating you even more.

But you swallow the part that he shoots into your mouth obediently, sobbing only so slightly as you realize that the brothers even taste the same.

Sukuna crouches down next to you, cupping your cheek and making you turn your head so you have to look up at his sneering face.

"Look at you, such a messy girl, lying in your own squirt and covered with my cum. Now you know who you belong to. My brother can't have you to himself. From now on, you belong to both of us."

Thank you so much for reading my first contribution to my Halloween Special 2023!! Writing evil Sukuna was so much fun!! I hope you liked it!

Comments and reblogs would be sweet!

I decided to split this story into two parts because it got too long. In Part 2, we will see more of Yuuji too. I hope to post it next week!

HERE IS PART 2

Halloween Masterlist 2023

[marvelnatr]

Training

Warnings: Daddy!Nat, Sub!reader, humiliation, brat!tamer Nat, impact play, mocking, strap on, cock warming, breeding kink, cum filled strap, pussy spanking, spanking, bratting, oral fixation, office setting.

Summary: you continue to fail to complete your mission reports correctly. Fury has tried multiple times to get the teammates to teach you how to complete them and you cannot follow simple orders, he’s told that during your teachings you have a cocky attitude. So he places you in an office with Nat till you can get your act together.

Feel free to join my marvel discord geared to this kind of writing! Its in my pinned master list. If the link doesn’t work let me know darlings. I don’t bite <3

Your POV:

Walking into the office Natasha looked up at me, her eyebrow cocking as she stayed leaned over her desk “excuse you?” I watched her slightly confused “what? I’m supposed to be here at nine am and its nine ten” Natasha nodded “yes you’re late. But also have some manners and knock on my office door before you come in” I nodded a bit with an eye roll and started to cross the threshold, Natashas voice stopped me in my tracks “so turn around and try again”. Looking up at her I nodded and turned around, closing the door and knocking again. Natasha gently opened the door “come in”. Nodding I walked in the door and looked at Natasha, she pointed to the chair near her desk “sit” rolling my eyes again I sat down. I’m not a fucking dog. I felt Nats eyes on me, the door clicked shut and the sound of her heels getting closer to my chair till I felt her brush by me as she sat down “so you’ve been having some problems with your mission reports?” I shook my head “they’re fine. Fury is just being picky” Natasha looked up at me “his name to you is Director, I know for a fucking fact you and him are not on first name basis. Do I make myself clear?” Swallowing a little I nodded as Nat watched me “no, you’re going to give me a verbal confirmation” watching her I sat forward and spoke, allowing my attitude to lace my voice “okay”, Natasha’s eyes found mine, the second we made eye contact I had realized I may have sounded a little too bold. Natasha calmly spoke “okay what?” I watched her, backing down a little “o-okay yes ma’am”. I received a simple nod from her and sat there in silence while she finished up her work.

After fifteen minutes I looked at her “okay what the fuck am I doing here? Cause if I’m just gonna sit here I’m leaving” Natasha looked at me “you will be patient Y/N” pouting I sat back and watched her work. This went on for around another thirty minutes before she looked at me “okay, what was the last mission you did” I looked at her and sat up “fucking finally” shooting a glare at me she growled a little “watch your fucking mouth, I am here to help you, so drop the fucking attitude” ignoring her statement I pulled out my computer and pulled up the mission report. I felt her lean over my shoulder as she looked at my report and scoffed “no wonder fury wont take this, its messy” I looked at her “excuse you?” Natasha cocked her eyebrow at me “I didn’t stutter did I?” Shutting up a little I rolled my eyes and thought of a quick snarky comeback “so what’s wrong with it then if you’re so fucking smart” I guess that was it. That’s what snapped her. Within seconds I was turned and facing her, her green eyes piercing into mine

Natasha’s POV:

Wrapping my hand around her throat Y/N left out a little gasp, her eyes widening as her legs squeezed together. I laughed a little and mocked “oh, I see, you just needed to be choked out a little didn’t you?” Y/N’s knuckles turned white as she squirmed “n-no” I laughed at her, tutting “oh detka, poor little thing. How I’d love to fuck you but you need an attitude adjustment” I let go of her neck with a little push and looked at her “rewrite it. Again. Stop beating around the bush and write it” Y/N pouted “b-but I don’t know how” I grabbed her jaw and made her look at me “you’re a smart little girl, you’ll figure it out” a pout formed on her lips as she looked at her computer and started typing. Nodding I sat back down at my desk. Y/N’s legs were squeezed shut as she typed. She would look up at me on occasion, her eyes begged me to fuck her as her pupils were blown with lust. Smirking at her I shook my head “focus on your work darling”

Y/N continued with her work. I decided it was time to fuck around with her a little, my fingers made their way to my button up shirt, slowly undoing the first three buttons to reveal my cleavage. Y/N’s eyes had been trained on my chest for a solid two minutes now. I laughed a little “what’s got you distracted darling?” Y/N swallowed hard and shook her head “nothing”. I slowly got up and leaned over the desk, my chest close to her face “try again detka” Y/N looked up at me, her eyes filled with anticipation as I leaned over her. The younger woman shakily inhaled and swallowed thick, as he spoke weakly “n-nothing miss” nodding I turned her computer to me “lets see how much progress you’ve made shall we love”. Looking over her work I tutted, she really hasn’t changed a thing. She’s made advances but hasn’t done much. I looked at her “this really isn’t any better dorogoy, are you really that dumb that you can’t put together a simple report? I know you’re so much smarter then this” a whine fell from her lips “I don’t get it, this is such bullshit!” Cocking my eyebrow at her I warned her “watch your mouth” Y/N looked at me with that same bratty look “fucking make me” laughing I leaned in closer “I will”. Her eyes widened as I sat down in my chair and patted my lap “come bring your computer and sit” Y/N rolled her eyes “no, I’m not a fucking child” I chuckled “you sure are acting like one” she quickly shot me a look and stupidly defended herself “I am not!” I scoffed at her “you are, just like a spoiled fucking brat if you ask me” huffing Y/N sat back in her chair, folding her arms and turning away from me just as a pouting child would. I laughed and mumbled “my point proven”

After about fifteen minutes she grumbled “I would like to leave now” I nodded while typing “you can after you finish your report” Y/N groaned “but I don’t fucking know what to do to fix it!” Looking over at her I spoke calmly, probably pissing her off even more “I offered to help you darling, and you wouldn’t take it. But the offer is still there. When you can drop your ego and come and sit in my lap like a good girl I can help you” she shook her head and spat “in your fucking dreams” I laughed and nodded “your choice then darling”

After a few more minutes she realized I wasn’t giving in. I heard her movements to grab her computer and find her way over to me. Looking over at her I saw her eyes watching my lap. Leaning back I gave her room to sit down, Y/N shuffled over to me pouting as I took her computer from her and allowed her to sit in my lap. Tucking some hair behind her ear I whispered “this isn’t so bad is it?” Shifting to get comfy she grumbled, her eyebrows furrowed in frustration “this sucks” I laughed a little and held her waist “don’t hurt my feelings now darling. Stop pretending you don’t like it”. A red tint fell over her cheeks as she cuddled into me and I smiled “that’s a good girl. Now, look at your screen”. I adjusted Y/N so she could see her screen and her eyes widened at me, I knew it was only time before she felt my strap in my pants, I laughed a little and mocked in her ear “so distracted darling, are you okay?”. A blush tinted her cheeks red as she nodded “y-yes da- ma’am”, I smirked “oh no baby say what you were gonna say”. Y/N squirmed in my lap as she mumbled, I held her hips and stilled her movements “speak up detka”. She pushed her head into my chest “y-yes d-daddy”. I groaned a little and held her hips down “such a good girl, there we go, finally learning your place”, the girl shot a glare at me and I smacked her thigh “nuh uh little girl, knock it off”, her eyes rolled as she spat “fucking make me”.

My hand quickly wrapped around her throat as I stood her up, quickly laying her flat over my desk then landing a harsh smack to her ass “that’s it, enough of the attitude”, Y/N gasped and moaned a little. Chuckling I tutted “such a fucking slut, is this what you want? You want me to spank you?” I spanked her again and stuck my fingers in her mouth “you just want to get punished thats all, want me to make you my little bitch”. I continued to land harsh spanks to her ass, the crimson red color was the most beautiful thing I’ve ever seen. You could see the slight outlines of my rings from the impact on her sore ass. Y/N was whimpering and crying a little, drooling all over my desk. I laughed “awww my poor little girl, you can give but you cant take? But you look so pretty for me. You ass all red while you make a mess all over my desk. Those pretty little tears don’t mean shit to me princess”

I watched as she squirmed, an unmistakable wet patch forming on her panties. Kicking her legs apart I gently pushed my palm on her cunt “mmmm so wet for me babygirl” Y/N moaned and whined, her legs closing around my hands. I smacked her cunt and looked up at her “you do not close your legs when I touch you, do you understand little girl?” She nodded and moaned “y-yes daddy” pushing my hand against her cunt I spoke again “I said do you understand?”, moaning a bit louder she fixed her sentence “y-yes daddy I understand” smirking I whispered in her ear “panties off and lay on the couch”. Y/N scrambled to the couch taking off her panties. I locked the office door and headed over to her. I rubbed her thighs gently “open your legs detka”, her legs quickly fell open and I groaned “you’re fucking soaked babygirl“ a red tint formed on her cheeks as I trailed my finger along her cunt “so you can follow orders, shocking”. Y/N snapped her legs shut “oh fuck off”. I cocked my eyebrow at her lowering my voice to a growl “what did you just say to me Y/N?”, her eyes went wide as her face turned white. Fear and anticipation flooded her eyes as I tutted “what am I going to do with you huh little girl?” I watched as she swallowed thick, standing up I leaned over her and grabbed her neck “lets see…I could edge you…or I could spank your poor little cunt….and I could just completely leave you without touching you” Y/N quickly protested to my last suggestion, a pleading whine falling from her lips “no daddy please! Please don’t leave me like this!”. I laughed at her “and what makes you think you’re in any position to tell me what to do with you darling? Where on earth did you get that thought?”

Dead silence fell over the room. Y/N’s pupils blown with lust and fear as she squirmed. I chuckled at her squeezing her neck tighter and pulling her closer to my face “come on slut speak up”, the younger woman gasped and rambled out “I-I dont! y-you’re in charge daddy”. Smiling I nodded “that’s right detka, daddy is is charge. Here’s what’s gonna happen” I trailed my hand down to her cunt as I spoke, allowing my accent to lace my voice a little more “you’re going to lay here and hold yourself open while daddy spanks this pretty little cunt five times for your misconduct. Do I make myself clear?” Y/N moaned and nodded “y-yes daddy you made yourself clear”

Y/N spread herself open, I smirked at her “so wet”, leaning down I hovered my face just above her cunt, my breath falling over her cunt making her twitch as I smiled “oh this is gonna be so much fucking fun” pushing my palm onto her heated core I kissed her gently then landed a semi harsh smack. Y/N yelped and moaned as I gently rubbed “you know what to do darling”. The girl swallowed thick, her chest rising and falling as she attempted to catch her breath “o-one thank you daddy”. Smiling I nodded and spanked her pussy again. I received the same reaction as the last. Y/N jolting slightly at the impact on her already swollen cunt from being so needy. I looked in her eyes as she counted again “two t-thank you daddy”. Nodding I finished the next three. Rubbing her pussy gently I groaned “so red and puffy now darling, you look so pretty like this” a blush fell over her cheeks and I chuckled “so shy, why did I punish you baby?” Y/N whispered gently “b-because I closed my legs while you were touching me” I nodded and rubbed “and is that polite?”, blushing further she shook her head “no daddy”. I smiled and kissed her knee “good girl. Now, you need to finish your report”. Immediately she whined “I don’t wanna!” I folded my arms “tell you what, you do the report and you get to cockwarm daddy as you work” Y/N bit her lip eagerly nodding “deal!”

Laughing I walked over to the desk and sat down. Y/N watched me as she rubbed her legs together, I patted my lap “come on darling, you’re so soaked you’ll be just fine”. She turned beet red as she straddled me and sunk gently down on my strap. Her cunt swallowing every inch of the thick toy as her mouth fell open in a silent moan. It was the hottest fucking thing I’ve ever seen and I couldn’t wait to breed her. To claim her and make her mine. I rested my hands on her hips and whispered praises “come on babygirl, just a little more. You can take it. I know you can” her eyes watched mine as she whimpered “you’re so big daddy, it wont fit” I laughed a little and rubbed her waist “oh darling. It’ll fit, daddy will help you”. She nodded as I lightly fucked up into her. My entire length buried into her cervix as she moaned “f-fucking hell” rubbing her hips gently I praised “thats it, such a good girl, you’ve done so well for me baby” she smiled and I patted her cheek “now get to work”

Y/N worked on her report as I looked over a file. Every so often I would check on her to see her progress. I could feel her arousal coating my thighs. The heat radiating off her core. Sometimes she would shift and moan from the sensation of the strap moving inside her. After thirty minutes she had finally finished. I put my file down and leaned forward, moving in her again. Y/N moaned as I rubbed her thigh to calm her and read over her report. I smiled and gripped her thigh a little “thats more like it baby, you do know what to do you just wanted to cookie cut it” Y/N pouted and bratted a little “did not!”. Quickly I smacked her thigh “no ma’am, no more of that” the girl whimpered “s-sorry daddy”. My hips involuntary bucked up, causing me to fuck into her. It was a pure reaction to the honorific falling from her lips. I received a moan from her in return, groaning I whispered in her ear “I could listen to those pretty little sounds all day” Y/N whimpered “please fuck me daddy, I-I can’t wait anymore”

Quickly picking her up I brought her over to the couch, my strap staying buried in her the entire time. I rested her down on the couch, her back hitting the leather cushions. I moan fell from her lips as my cock moved inside of her “oh baby be a good girl and let daddy fuck you hm? I know you’ve been craving this from the second you looked at me”. Y/N whimpered and nodded as I started fucking into her “that’s it, good girl detka”. Quickly grabbing a hold of the leather she moaned “f-fucking hell daddy you’re so big” I laughed a little and kept fucking her “I know darling”. Y/N’s head threw back as her eyes closed, I slapped her tit “ah ah, no little girl, you look daddy in the eyes while she’s fucking you. I want to memorize exactly what you look like when you’re falling apart under me”

Y/N’s eyes shot open again as she watched me, I nodded and slipped my fingers into her mouth, lightly making her gag which in turn made her clench around my strap. She quickly got the understanding to suck and begun swirling her tongue around my fingers. My digits muffling her moans as her teary eyes watched me. I smiled and mocked her “look at you, drooling all over yourself as I fuck your tight little pussy. You look fucking pathetic darling. I’m glad you’re found a better use for that pretty mouth of yours rather than bratting”. At this point she was too busy to complain, to dumb fucked out to argue. Fucking into her harder I groaned “fuck pup you look so pretty like this”. She moaned loud and bucked her hips, I cocked my eyebrow at her “you like that one huh? You want daddy to breed this sweet little pussy? To claim you?”. A babbled yes fell from her mouth around my fingers. I smirked and fucked into her harder “fuck thats my good girl”

Y/N’s legs started to shake, I took my fingers out of her mouth “you ask for permission to cum detka” her moans grew louder “p-please daddy please can I cum?” I groaned and nodded “fuck babygirl cum for me, gonna fill you up, make my cum drip from that pretty little cunt”. I gripped her legs and spread them wider as she came. Fully bottoming out inside her I came with her. Filling her cunt as she screamed a little “h-holy fucking shit daddy!” I laughed as I kissed her cheek “such a good girl for me, now everyone in the office knows who’s screwing you”, Y/N’s face tinted red as I stroked her cheek “it’s okay darling, you’re mine now”

As her breathing slowed I gently pulled out, some of the cum dripping from her cunt as it spilled on the couch. Chuckling I rubbed her thighs “such a messy girl”. I went into my private bathroom and wet a washcloth, coming back I kissed her inner thigh “may I dove?”. Y/N nodded all floaty, I melted at her relaxed face and fucked out body. While I cleaned her up I spoke “no more of the bratty attitude okay baby?” Y/N nodded and whispered “okay daddy”. I smiled softly at her and gently put her panties back on and grabbed one of my blankets from my storage ottoman, wrapping her up in it as I picked her up and held her in my arms “that’s my good girl, you can rest now darling”

Y/N cuddled into my neck and closed her eyes. While she dozed off I rubbed some cream on her ass, admiring the indentation of my rings on her red flesh for a few seconds. Kissing her head I sat down and continued to do some of my work, doing my best not to wake the sleeping angel in my lap.

[slut4thebroken]

Needs

── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ──

Pairing | Tommy Shelby x reader

Summary | Tommy’s been so busy with work that he’s been neglecting your needs… So you come up with a plan to finally get some attention.

Warnings | Smut, semi public sex, rough sex, spanking, creampie, degradation, humiliation, praise, brat taming, gunplay, established relationship.

Words | 2.3 k

Notes | I feel like I still don’t really have his characterization down tbh :/ oh well😭

Ao3 link | <3

Masterlist

Smut prompts 4. "what would they think if they saw you right now?" 36. “You know I’m holding back from fucking you over this kitchen counter, don’t push your luck.” 48. “no panties. you need me that bad?” 50. “i bet you think you’re real cute letting them put their hands all over you. we’ll see how cute you look later when i get you home” 52. “you keep acting like a brat and i’ll take you over my knee right here. i don’t care how many people are watching” 75. "You wanted this. You can take it."

This definitely was not your proudest moment… but you’re pent up and Tommy has been too busy to take care of you for almost two weeks now. You’re desperately craving some rough, hard fucking. And you know exactly how to get it.  

Placing your hand on the man’s bicep, you laughed along with his “joke” and glanced at Tommy from across the room. He still hadn’t noticed you yet and you prayed he would soon because you’ve never met a man more bland and boring than the one in front of you. He’s also either completely stupid, or just doesn’t know that you’re with Tommy since he’s openly flirting with you. 

“You know, you truly are very beautiful.” He said, the joking tone now completely gone. 

“Oh- thank you..” You smiled, trying not to cringe. 

“May I dance with you?” You glanced at Tommy again— still nothing. 

“Sure.” He led you over to the center of the room and grabbed your hand, placing his other hand on your back, far too low. He started up another conversation and all you could do was nod or hum in agreement, too focused on looking at Tommy every chance you had. 

When you finally, finally met his gaze.. you immediately recognized his expression. You forced your eyes back on the man in front of you and smiled, trusting that Tommy would be over here any second now. 

“Hello, darling.” You stopped and tried not to smirk as you turned around. Tommy was looking between you and the man who quickly let go of you and stepped back. 

“Mr. Shelby.” He greeted, giving an awkward smile. He looked between the two of you and seemed to suddenly understand the situation. His smile slowly dropped as he took another step back. “I- I’m going to..” 

“Yeah, you do that.” Tommy sneered, waiting until the man scurried away before turning to you. He didn’t bother asking before grabbing your hand and pulling you into him by your lower back. 

“I bet you think you’re real cute letting him put his hands all over you…” He murmured, making you smile a little. “We’ll see how cute you look later when we’re home.”

“We were just dancing.” You said, in a tone that implied that you weren’t just dancing. 

“Right.” He scoffed. 

“There’s no need to get insecure, Tommy.” You said innocently, watching as his cheeks tensed when he clenched his jaw. His piercing blue eyes practically stared through you and if it were anyone else, they would’ve backed down immediately. 

“You keep acting like a brat and I'll take you over my knee right here. I don’t care how many people are watching.” He spoke in a low, menacing voice, making your stomach flutter. 

“Really? You’re not too busy for that?” You snarked and his expression shifted into one of realization, then amusement.

“Is that what this is about? My girl is a bit needy so she turns into a whore?” As soon as he started teasing, you knew you had to do more for this plan to actually work. 

“Screw you.” You spat, pushing him back by his chest. His eyes darkened and without paying any attention to the people who were now watching this encounter, he grabbed your wrist and started dragging you somewhere. “Let go!” You tried yanking yourself free, but his grip wouldn’t budge. He pulled you through a few hallways until you reached the kitchen, then shoved you into the room and slammed the door shut. 

“Quit it. I won’t tell you again.” He warned. 

“I didn’t even do anything! You’re the one who made a scene and dragged me away from the party.” 

“Oh, I made a scene?” He chuckled and you clenched your jaw, letting out a heavy breath through your nose. “Does no cock for less than two weeks really turn you into a complete brat?” He was still so fucking amused, so you shoved his chest again. He suddenly gripped your neck and pushed you back a few steps until you hit the counter. “I said quit it.” He growled, tightening his grip on your neck. 

“Fucking make me, Thomas.” You spat, purposefully using his full name. 

“You know I’m holding back from fucking you over this kitchen counter right now… Don’t push your luck.” 

“Oh, are you? Do you even have time for that?” You don’t think you’ve ever sounded more bratty before in your life. 

“Fine. You want to be fucked?” He quickly spun you around and pushed your chest down onto the counter, then bunched your dress up, letting it rest on your back. “Really, no panties? You need it that bad?” He snickered, making your cheeks flush in embarrassment. You don’t regret your decision to go without them though. 

The sound of clothes rustling as he opened his pants had you squeezing your thighs together, eager for what was to come. Without any warning he fully sheathed himself inside you, making you cry out and scramble for purchase on the counter. 

“Fuck! Tommy— what the hell?” He didn’t even give you a second to adjust before starting a brutal pace. Grabbing your hips tight enough to bruise, he bucked into you wildly with little care for your own pleasure. But for some pathetic reason that only made all of this hotter. “God- Tommy, slow down.” You whined, trying to squirm away. 

“You wanted this. You can take it." He gruffed, letting out quiet grunts now. Honestly, you’ve been a little horny since the moment you decided not to wear any underwear, but it’s been longer than usual since he’s been inside you and he didn’t do anything else to prep you, so the stretch burned a little. It was quickly turning into overwhelming pleasure though. When you reached a hand down to rub your clit, he twisted your arm behind your back almost painfully. 

“Brats don’t get to touch. You’ll be lucky if I decide to let you come at all.” You cursed under your breath and closed your eyes, only getting more worked up by his words and the way he said them. 

“Fine. When we’re done, we’ll go back out there and I’ll tell everyone about how Tommy Shelby can’t make a girl come.” You snarked. He pulled out with a low growl, making you smirk a little. You watched him walk across the kitchen, opening and closing drawers quickly. When he picked up a wooden spoon and started walking back over, you smirk dropped and you lifted yourself off the counter. “Tommy… Not here.” You warned, stepping away from him when he approached. 

“Get the fuck over the counter or I’ll make you.” When you didn’t move, he unholstered his gun and pointed it at you lazily. “Now.” Your eyes widened and you swallowed thickly, glancing between the weapon, the spoon, and his face. Even though you knew he’d never actually shoot you, the fear was still there. So you tentatively walked back over and leaned on the counter again. He lifted your dress, then immediately resumed fucking you, dragging the spoon over your ass to make you tense up. 

“I have responsibilities other than satisfying your needs.” He started, placing a firm smack on your ass with the spoon, making you curse loudly. “I run a business,” another smack, this one even harder, “I have a family…” The third hit brought tears to your eyes. “You are not my only priority, you understand?” You whimpered at the fourth smack, but even through all of this, he never stopped fucking you. 

“Answer me.” He growled, and this hit forced a choked sob out of you. 

“Yes! I- I understand.” You cried, clinging to the counter to ground yourself a little. 

“Your libido is inconsequential,” He continued, landing another hit on your already burning ass, “and I will not tolerate my woman acting like a whore because of it.” 

“Tommy..” You whimpered pathetically. 

“Do you have anything you want to say for yourself?” He spanked you twice in quick succession and you let your head fall onto the counter as a tear finally escaped your waterline. 

“I’m sorry!” You sobbed out, only crying harder when he hit you again. 

“Try again.” 

“I’m sorry, Tommy.” You whimpered. 

“Last fucking chance.” He spat, spanking you again. 

“I’m sorry for… acting like a whore.” You choked out and he landed one more hit on each cheek before dropping the spoon onto the counter. 

“There you go.” He cooed, rapidly snapping his hips into you, adding more pain to your already burning ass. “What would they think if they saw you right now?" He asked amusedly and you whined as your cheeks heated up. “Bent over some random rich asshole’s kitchen counter, getting spanked and fucked stupid…” 

“Tommy…” You whimpered, voice barely audible. Your hips were digging into the edge of the counter painfully and your legs were trembling from the intensity of the pain and pleasure. With each thrust, his balls were smacking your clit, teasing you with the slightest amount of touch where you really needed it. 

“From now on, when this cunt is needy, you come to me before whoring yourself around, got it?” You nodded desperately, feeling so close to pleasure that was just out of reach. 

“Yes— yes.” You choked out. “Please, Tommy, I can’t take this.” Your voice was a weak whimper and you hoped it’d be enough to get him to cave. 

“Do you need to come, darling?” He cooed mockingly, making you frown a little. 

“Yes! Please make me come,” 

“You can come. But you’re not using your hands.” He said cruelly. 

“Tommy, please..” You whined, needing more. You knew he wouldn’t give it to you though. 

“Better hurry too cause I’m getting close.” He chuckled quietly, obviously enjoying your suffering. 

“I can’t! Please!” You can count on one hand the amount of times you’ve been able to come from penetration alone. 

“Do you need help, my love?” He asked softly, voice contrasting his actions as he fisted your hair and yanked your body up until your back was against his chest. The cold barrel of his gun dragged down your cheek, making you stiffen and close your eyes with a strangled whimper. “Is this better?” You let out a choked sob even though, yes, it was helping you get closer to the edge. “You’re trembling… Like a little lamb.” He murmured against your ear, sounding uncharacteristically endeared. 

“Tommy..” You whispered, unconsciously flinching away from the gun. 

“Are you scared?” He whispered back and you just barely nodded in response. “Good girl. I like you like this.” He placed a gentle kiss on your cheek and you mewled, feeling your orgasm barreling toward you. He never stopped thrusting, but based on his breathing and the quiet sounds he was making, you knew he was close. Which meant that if you wanted to come, you had to do it now. His lips moved down to your neck and began kissing and licking the sensitive skin, occasionally sucking it into his mouth to leave a mark. 

“Come on, love. Drench my fucking cock, I know you can do it.” The gun brushed over your trembling lips teasingly. “This cunt isn't useful to me if it can’t come.” The degrading words forced a strangled moan out of you. When he cocked the gun, your body immediately went completely rigid. “If it’s not useful, then I don’t need it...” He said coyly and you whimpered in response, feeling so incredibly close to release. 

“So be a good toy and let that cunt show me why I should keep you around.” That was all you needed to finally fall over the edge. You sobbed out a moan and your whole body tensed up, then started almost shaking as all of the tension was finally released. This was your first orgasm in almost two weeks and it had you struggling to breathe properly and keep yourself up with the way your legs were beginning to feel like jelly. 

“Good girl.. I got you.” He cooed, holding you in his arms but never faltering in the movements of his hips. “Let it all out, darling.” 

“Tommy.” You whimpered through all of the moaning. 

“I know. I know, love.” He whispered, holding you tightly. “Ready for my come?” His words made another strong wave of pleasure roll through you and you were mumbling out incoherent pleas before you could stop yourself. You probably missed the feeling of him coming inside you the most out of everything. 

Without another word, his hips stuttered, then he bottomed out, pushing you almost painfully into the edge of the counter with a low groan. You whined at the faint feeling of his cock twitching inside you as he painted your walls with his come. He was grunting quietly, his breathing growing ragged and fanning your neck, getting you worked up again. But he was done far too soon. 

Panting quietly, he set his gun down on the counter, then kissed the crook of your neck, filling your stomach with butterflies. You loved his soft moments like this, especially after how rough and mean he was being. 

“Good girl…” He whispered. “So good for me.” Your cheeks heated up at the praise. 

“Don’t let me go, I’ll fall.” You warned quietly and he released of soft chuckle in response. 

“Lean over the counter, darling.” He murmured, giving one last kiss on your neck before letting you lean back down, resting most of your weight on it. He dragged out slowly, making both of you hiss at the sensitivity. “Fuck… I missed seeing this.” He groaned, enjoying the sight of your walls wrapped around his length. 

You whimpered in pain when he grabbed your sore ass and pulled you open to get a better view of your fluttering holes and his come leaking out. At the first sight of it though, he kicked your legs together, making it drip down your thighs instead. 

“Tommy...” You whined and he gave a teasing slap to your ass as he let out a half hearted chuckle, then pulled your dress back down. 

“Try not to leak all over the floor, love. I’m not sure how you’ll be able to explain that.” 

Taglist (join here)

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[makeyoumine69]

Call Me Babydoll 5

PAIRING: DBF!Patrick Bateman x Innocent!Fem!Reader

SUMMARY: Patrick stays in your mind even after the disastrous Dorsia incident. Like a song you can't get out of your head, he continues to hum his sultry and sensual words and ways into your ears and heart. When he arrives unexpectedly with a surprise guest, he cannot deny that he is attracted to you. But is this even real?

CONTAINS: Angst, smut, masturbation (f), obsessive behavior, cursing and use of pet names, smoking, gaslighting & manipulation, humiliation & hyperfixation, Daddy kink, making out, marking, biting.

WORDS: 3.5k

A/N: Sorry to make you wait so long, I hope to get in shape soon and post more often!🥰

LINKS: [Ch.4]; [SERIES MASTERLIST]; [MASTERLIST]

Your mind was a complete mess, your heart nothing but glass dust. The echoes of your private conversation with Patrick on the outdoor terrace of Dorsia still lingered in your mind even after you returned home, though you couldn't remember how you made it since you had declined Bateman's offer to take you to your house.

The first thing you noticed when you crossed the threshold of your home was a strong, sweet scent of flowers. It was a familiar perfume that you already hated.

"Y/n? I thought you were already asleep in your room," and there she was - your father's girlfriend named Sophia, meeting you in the hall, smiling mischievously as she caught you doing something criminal. "Where have you been?"

Sophia was a middle-aged woman with Greek roots, she was really a nice person, always so kind and friendly to you, and most importantly - she never tried to replace your mother, for which you were very grateful. 

"I had dinner," you replied tiredly as you took off your coat. "Not a good one."

"Ouch…" She gave you a sympathetic pat on the shoulder before continuing. "Don't be sad, honey. You're an incredible person and I'm sure that one day you'll meet the right person." Sophia cheered this, smiling as if her words were a prediction of the future. "With whom you will feel that everything is in the right place."

Sighing, you tried to master something close to a smile. "Thank you, Soph." As much as you wanted to share your worries with her, you couldn't because she could tell your father everything. "I'm so exhausted I could fall asleep right here."

"Go rest," she mused, watching you go upstairs. "Tomorrow your father and I are going to visit my family."

"Good luck with that." You replied before disappearing from her vision.

It was obvious that you wouldn't be able to sleep tonight, thanks to the endless thoughts that looped in your head like a broken record.

Why did you ever think that a man like Bateman could really take you seriously? You felt deceived, embarrassed and madly frustrated, because at the end of the day, Patrick was just playing with you like a toy, twisting you perfectly around his finger. 

Fidgeting in your bed, you accidentally recalled the memories of the day he was here - you could still feel the remnants of his hypnotizing cologne as your sheets smelled of him. A lonely tear slid down your cheek, outlining the beautiful shape of your face - now so dull and dejected. 

If only you could rewind time and not allow him to get close to you, not even for an inch. Sobbing, you curled up like a kitten, pressed your knees to your chest and tried to drift off, but every time you closed your eyes - his gorgeous face popped up in your mind, making you believe that he really had blessed you with a curse. A curse to be obsessed with the man who would never be yours.

It had been a week since you had seen Bateman, and somehow you had even managed to live through your depression and hide it from your father, although it was quite difficult due to his numerous questions about your sad face and bad mood. At work, some of your co-workers were also trying to figure out what was wrong with you, so you finally decided to take a few days off to relax and get your life back on track.

In the morning of one of those days, you suddenly found yourself writhing on the sheets, breathing heavily and drenched in sweat. With an irritated groan, you threw the blanket aside, accidentally touching your painfully hard nipples. 

Oh shit, not again.

Closing your eyes, you didn't even notice that you were dreaming about him for the third fucking time in a row. You let out a muffled gasp as your trembling hand snaked down your belly between your half-opened legs to the center of your desire.

It was just impossible to resist.

"Aww, Daddy," you moaned softly, imagining it was his hand caressing your taut folds. "Please...I need more..."

Embarrassed but absolutely horny, you spread your legs wider, letting your own digits slide along your dripping pussy, and kept picturing his beautiful face as he praised you for being such a good girl for him. 

A loud gasp echoed through your room at the memory of his velvety, deep voice, playing in your head as if Bateman was really here, next to you, his hand wrapped tightly around your trembling throat as he wanted nothing more than to bring you to your climax, to see you collapse right before his dark hazel eyes.

"Mmhm, Patrick..." you frowned and shivered, your ministrations growing more impatient as you rubbed circling motions into your throbbing clit while feeling the impending orgasm building in your core. "Patrick, Patrick, please!"

To muffle your obscene moans, you had to bite the pillow next to you as you reached your climax, never stopping to massage your feverish nub. 

'You are so naughty, Babydoll. Look at the mess you have made.'

The echo of his sexy voice resounded in your clouded mind, prolonging your intense orgasm and you couldn't help but cradle your breast, only to pinch your hard little tip as you craved more. 

But unfortunately, after the haze of ecstasy wore off and you were finally able to think clearly, the bitter realization that it was all an illusion washed over you like a tidal wave, leaving you completely broken. It felt as if you had put all your energy into getting that high, and now you could barely move, feeling satisfied yet devastated.

Over the next few hours, you showered several times and refused to leave your room, no matter how much your father and Sophia tried to convince you. Shame and despair were eating you alive from the inside out, draining all your positive emotions like parasites.

Whenever you tried to distract yourself by reading, you were annoyed by your mind tricks because every character's name starting with the letter P automatically became 'Patrick'. 

You hated that man for infesting your mind, body, and soul. Before meeting Bateman, you even thought you were frigid, but now...now you were ready to climb on the walls from the consuming desire to be...possessed? Owned? Marked? 

A loud knock at the door interrupted your train of thought and you barely stopped yourself from squeaking - all these days, since you started having nasty dreams with Patirck, you felt like you were doing something bad and someone from your household could catch you. Quickly you approached the door to your room and after unlocking it, you let your vision - which turned out to be your father - in. 

"I thought you were taking a nap," he chuckled, but then his face changed when he saw your tired eyes. "Are you sure you're not sick, (y/n)?"

"I'm not sick, Dad," you rolled your eyes and crossed your hands over your chest, ready to be lectured again. "Did something happen? I was in the middle of proofreading."

Your father hummed, tilting his head to the side. "You took a few days off to work at home?"

Scowling with annoyance, you leaned against the door and mumbled: "It helps me relax and clear my head."

"Well, I just wanted to let you know that Patrick is here," you felt the ground disappear under your feet as he spoke. "He came to sign some papers and I thought you might like to join us in the living room. Soph made your favorite apple pie."

This information made your temples ache with tension, and you had to massage them to ease the stabbing pain. "Father, I... I'm not really in the mood for guests."

Especially when this guest was Patrick Bateman.

Your father just sighed and stepped back, which meant he wasn't going to try to convince you. Most of all, you hated to upset your family, even though you didn't want to see Bateman, not after the things that had happened to you during these long, crazy days.

"Okay, okay," you knew you would regret it, but now you didn't see any other option. "I'll be back soon."

With that, you closed the door, feeling the panic rising in your chest. It seemed that your father still thought that you were still on good terms with Patrick, since you had not told him anything about that damn dinner. Trying to pull yourself together, you quickly went to the mirror to freshen up a bit - the fact that you were worried about what Bateman would think of your appearance still bothered you, but there was nothing you could do about it.

Almost fifteen minutes later, you finally came downstairs, wearing a short black top and your favorite tight jeans, and no, you weren't trying to impress him - a little spice wouldn't hurt.

As you approached the living room, you began to hear a cacophony of different voices: your dad's, Sophia's, and another unfamiliar female voice that made you stop in confusion around the corner. Who was that?

"(Y/n), don't be shy, come here." Your father's comment made you frown and bite your lip in embarrassment as you felt like you were transferred back to your childhood.

Taking a deep breath, you stepped into the living room and immediately became the center of everyone's attention. Your eyes quickly found the owner of the unknown voice - a pretty blonde girl sitting next to Patrick with a small notebook in her elegant hands. 

Another blonde, huh? 

Putting on a friendly fake smile, you managed to hide your frustration and walked closer to the couch to take a seat next to your father, completely ignoring Bateman's intense gaze.

"Uh, this is Jean, Patrick's assistant," your father introduced the blonde girl to you, and she smiled shyly when you raised your eyes to her. "Jean, this is (y/n), my lovely daughter."

"Nice to meet you, (y/n)," Jean murmured and turned to look at Patrick, as if looking for his approval. When he said nothing, she continued. "Patrick has told me a lot about you."

"Really?" You replied skeptically, your hands already crossed over your chest as you desperately tried to keep your composure. "How nice."

Somehow your father managed to notice the growing tension between the two of you, and his little cough caught everyone's attention. "Sorry, my throat gets dry from time to time."

"No need to apologize, Mr. (y/l/n)," Bateman suddenly joined the conversation, causing you to almost jump in your seat. "How about your lovely daughter making us some drinks?" His white-toothed smile was blinding, but you did your best not to react to this provocation.

"Yeah, sure. I'll make them." You stood up quickly, seeing this as a great opportunity to escape.

"Let me help you!" Jean suddenly suggested.

"No no no, you don't have to!"

"Hey, let her help you," Patrick put forward and tapped Jean's knee several times, which you couldn't miss. "It's better not to refuse people's help, because we live in such a cruel world. You know what I mean, (y/n?)" 

His smug wink at you made your hands clench into fists, but you decided not to argue with him and just stumbled out of the living room, hearing Jean's soft footsteps behind you.

In the kitchen, the two of you didn't try to strike up a conversation, feeling uncomfortable but not hostile. With casual confidence, you took out two glasses and three cups under the attentive gaze of Patrick's assistant.

"Whiskey for the boys and coffee for the girls," you hummed to yourself, finally glancing at Jean, who was standing shyly in the doorway. "Maybe you want something else?"

"No," she gasped when you asked her. "Coffee is fine."

"Good."

As the blonde woman watched you make the coffee, she came closer and looked around the kitchen. "'Your house is very cozy."

"Thank you," you gave her a warm smile and picked up a silver tray for the cups. "My mother used to love an atmosphere like this," your sudden confession made you stop everything for a moment and Jean noticed your tension. "She would be very touched by your compliment."

The sad undertone in your words made the woman pause and think about what to say next, and you used the moment to get additional things for the coffee, including sugar, cream and vanilla. 

"I would only ask you to help me with this," you nodded at the nearly full tray. "And I'll take glasses and a bottle."

"Okay," Jean picked up some napkins before taking a deep breath. "Patrick was right when he said you were a lovely girl."

Frowning, you almost spilled the last cup of coffee when you heard those words. "Uh, I don't understand why you were talking about me at all."

"Well, we talked about you when I made the reservation for your dinner in Dorsia."

An awkward silence hung in the air for some time before you managed to pull yourself together and place all the cups on the shimmering tray. "Mmhm-yeah, that dinner was something, I have to admit," you let out a nervous chuckle, not wanting to remember the events of that evening. "Do you like him?"

"W-what?" Jean blushed almost instantly, her beautiful blue eyes averted from your curious gaze and she had to fix her stray lock of hair behind her ear. "He's my boss, and I like working with him."

"Is he a good boss?"

"Yes, he is."

Satisfied with her answer, you crossed your arms and grinned. "Glad to hear it, I mean seriously," you watched her bat her long eyelashes as you moved the tray over to her. "I think you two look great together."

Exhaling, Jean took the tray and giggled sheepishly. "What makes you think that anyway?"

"I just noticed the way he looks at you," you replied frankly, picking up the glasses. "Thanks for the help. Now I have to get a drink for the boys."

With that, you cast your most sincere smile before retreating from the kitchen, and once you were out in the hall, your face became blank and dull. The things you just said - were they just some kind of masochism? You kept asking yourself as you walked to your father's office, where he kept his favorite drinks that he only served to special guests.

Carefully, with cat-like grace, you touched a doorknob when you noticed that the door was half open. Concerned, you quickly turned around and when you saw no one, you quickly opened it and stepped inside, only to freeze in shock and it was a fucking miracle that you didn't let the glasses fall down on the floor.

Bateman was standing with his back to you, so at first you hoped he wouldn't notice, but as soon as you turned on your heels, the man spun around and the sight of you made him smile mischievously and absolutely charmingly.

"Wrong door?" Patrick chuckled and shifted his position so that you could now see him holding a bottle and a lit cigar in the other hand.

"You can't smoke in my house," you said in an irritated voice. "I'm serious."

"Oh, stop it," his mocking chuckle echoed in your ears, annoying you more and more. "Your father gave me permission. Besides, he told me he had a bottle of J&B, so I decided to take it myself, since you two were very slow."

Having said that, the man puffed on his cigar and blew several rings of smoke, causing you to cover your mouth as you started to cough. The sheer arrogance he radiated was poisonous and somehow suffocating, it was like a tight rope around your neck, no snuff could affect you like that.

"Why did you send Jean with me?"

"And why didn't you answer my calls?" Bateman interjected sternly, closing the distance between the two of you.

The sudden question made you lose your balance for a second. "Calls? What calls? I... I don't even understand what you're talking about."

With a cheeky grin, Patrick took a drag on his cigar and blew right into your face. "Hmmm, let me remember," he leaned against the door and cocked his head to the side. "The one right after dinner, and the one the next day, and the one two days after that."

It was strange, because all these days no one had ever told you about Patrick's calls, and you thought that if he had really made them, your father would definitely have told you, since he wanted you two to get along so much.

"All right, let's pretend that you really did call me, but I can't understand why?"

"You seemed very upset after dinner," the man strove to parry your provocative question, though his eyes glowed with the thrill of the challenge you were giving him. "I just wanted to check on you, since your old man is worried about you too much, and... I didn't need any trouble to close the deal."

Another disappointment.

"Business above all, huh?" No matter how hard you tried to hide the pain, your voice still sounded somber. 

"Shhh," his sudden touch on your lower lip caused something heavy to fall in your stomach. "Don't be like that, Babydoll. I'm just doing my job."

"Even now?" You taunted him blatantly, though your panting could be clearly heard in the room.

The sexual tension between the two of you was palpable in the air, but you both remained still, even when Bateman approached your neck to inhale your sweet scent, mixing it with the sharp smell of snuff.

What the hell were you doing? 

When Bateman pulled away to place the bottle on the nearby bookshelf, he grabbed the glasses you were holding so desperately that your fingers began to curl. Then the man squeezed the cigar between his white teeth and, with practiced ease, picked you up and carried you to your father's desk. As he set you down on the wooden tabletop, he didn't let you protest, pressing his large palm over your mouth.

"Now, now, little girl," he cooed, exhaling smoke before pulling you a little closer. "C'mere, I'm going to show you something."

Carefully but determinedly, Patrick grabbed your chin and drew you closer so that your mouths were barely an inch apart. Pressing his thumb along your lips, the man forced you to part them, and in the next moment, he blew some smoke into your mouth before sealing it with his own. Intoxicated by both the smoke and Patrick's sudden intrusion, your hands clutched desperately at his broad shoulders, cramping the expensive fabric of his pinstriped suit. After all these days of desperate need for his touch, this kiss was like a sip of water in the desert; it was vital and overwhelming. With every breath you took, Bateman's movements became bolder, less tentative and more demanding; his warm hand slipped under your short top to caress your shoulder blades with feathery strokes that almost drove you to moan against his lips, but you struggled to stop yourself.

"Patrick," you gasped after breaking the kiss. "What the hell are we doing?

"You tell me, Babydoll." 

"No, because it was you who told me you didn't want to be a babysitter. Did you forget?" 

When you tried to slide off the desk, he wouldn't let you, pressing you closer to his strong body and finally putting his cigar in the ashtray not far from where he was holding you. "I always remember my own words…" With that, he placed both his hands on either side of your knees before moving them slowly up along your hips and God, Bateman was doing it so damn slow on purpose, forcing you to jolt from the strange tension in your lower belly - the feeling that had become your personal drug. "Oh, don't pretend you don't like it. Your body speaks for itself."

You tried to pull away from him as you couldn't stand the way his hazel eyes were stripping you down, but the more you struggled, the more Patrick grew impatient, so he just yanked roughly by your hair, forcing you to tilt your head back and expose your delicate neck, which Patrick didn't miss the chance to mark, biting your tender flesh and then sucking the mark with a muffled groan.

There was something feral about him and that 'something' was making your body respond to his every touch, every little contact.

Nuzzling your cheek, Bateman lowered one of his hands to your bare stomach, drawing invisible lines along it before suddenly cupping your throbbing pussy through the tight material of your jeans, making you squeal and shake on the desk.

Just as Patrick was about to kiss you again, you both noticed a commotion coming from behind the door and then realized it was your father, you both didn't even have a chance to move as the door was quickly opened, revealing a very compromising picture.

P.S. Thank you for reading until the end! I don’t have a taglist. You can follow my side blog @makeyoumineagain and turn on notifications to know when I update!

[thehandsresisthim]

“pleasant surprise”

content: nsft, link (totk) x reader, d/s dynamics, fem!reader, miss/ma’am, pegging, soft dom!reader, no desc. of readers body

word count: ~700

You feel him nuzzle against your chest - check pressed across your tight fitting shirt.

“Warm…” he mumbles in a soft voice.

As you reach over to grab something from your desk, he suddenly seems a lot less calm, hands that were softly grabbing onto your hips suddenly digging into your skin.

“H-hah… ma’am…” he whimpers out as he throws his head back . “P-please…”

“No.” you say in a firm voice. “You’re not getting anything until I’m done with this essay.”

“Mmh-mmh…” he nods in agreement.

He’s been like that for 20 minutes now, you buried inside him whilst you work on an essay - and he gets nothing. No touching, no grinding, no asking for more.

His hands rest on your hips, occasionally grabbing your chair, but he doesn’t dare put them even near his dick. It’s throbbing, but all it’s getting is the occasional rub of the fabric of your shirt.

He has been begging for your touch for the entire day - but long classes at your uni, and you working on an important essay afterwards had made it difficult.

But you had come up with a solution to keep him entertained. Your strap. He’s sitting on your lap, whilst you sit on your chair at your desk, working on your essay. It’s a different one than the one you usually use, a few more ridges, but there’s no notable difference in size.

You had smiled mischievously at him as you helped prepare him to take it. “It’s different from what we usually use. I hope that it'll make you feel even better.”

So far, he hasn’t noticed any difference. Maybe you were wrong? But still, the pressure against that spot and how close he is to you, mixed with the burning humiliation of you being completely dressed, and him being nude - it’s enough to keep him excited.

You move again, and he whimpers. A “Please, ma’am…” escapes him before he can stop it.

You put your pencil down. “Mmh, I just need to write a few more words.” You gently wrap your arms around his waist and lean down to kiss his forehead. He’s once more made aware of your size difference - how much smaller he is in comparison to you.

“We’re going to try something new now, sweetheart, and if you don’t like it, please tell me immediately, okay? Then we’ll stop.” you say in a kind voice. His heartbeat quickens, both with excitement at what you’ve got planned for him, and with appreciation for how gentle you are with him.

“O-okay, ma’am.” he replies shyly.

Although he knew that he liked having a partner in the lead since he started dating, there always came some insecurities with it - it makes him vulnerable in a way he’s not used to. But you have always respected and cared for him, always made sure that everything was enjoyable for him…

You reach down to the strap and press a small button at the very base that he hasn’t noticed before. The toy inside of him starts vibrating.

He’s never felt something like this before.

Sure, you thrusting in and out of him felt good, but this is different.

He moans, loudly, and can’t find it in himself to stop.

“Ah - hah - w-what is? G… good…” is all Link manages to say. He squirms around and a fucked-out giggle escapes against his permission. “Th…tha… thank you… feel… good!”

You smile at him and gently kiss his forehead as you continue writing your essay.

“Sweetheart?” you ask in a kind voice.

“Y…yes…” he looks at you with a blissful expression as the strap whirs away inside of him.

“You can touch yourself, feel free to move all you want.” you instruct, “but… no cumming, okay?”

He pouts, but nods.

After a few minutes of the strap vibrating against him, he lazily starts humping his own hand. There’s no more structure to it, he’s too dumbed down to think properly. Link is still murmuring phrases, and occasionally drools on your shirt - as you write the last word, he starts frantically begging to cum.

“Ple-ase… miss… feels- can’t hold it-“

“H-hurts…”

You put your pen down and your hands join his on his dick, gentle, planned out strokes and teases.

“Shh… you’re doing so well… I’m so proud of you, my knight…”

“You have my permission, sweetheart.”

This seems to really do it for him. “T-thanks…” he drools on your shirt. With a loud moan, he feels himself get pushed over the edge.

“Th..ank you, thank you, thank you- I love you!”

“I love you too, Link.”

thank you for reading ♥️

[myfictionaldreams]

I noticed in your poly!marauders breakfast in bed imagine when Remus said that if she doesn't tell them he would punish her. Do you think you could write an alternative version of that imagine where he does end up punishing her? Only if your comfortable with it tho

Pain Over Pleasure // Poly!Marauders x Fem!Reader

A/N: thank you for the request! I hope you enjoy!

Breakfast in bed link if anyone is interested ღ

Tags: 18+ readers only, smut, foursome, threesome, angst, punishment, painful sex, rough sex, BDSM, dom/sub, spanking, humiliation, dacryphilia (crying), sir kink, size difference, praise kink, anal sex, cum swallowing, degradation, orgasm denial, intense orgasm, overstimulation, aftercare, subspace, restraints, being ignored as punishment, safe words in place

Words: 5.8k

my masterlist 📚 AO3 Link

You knew the pain had slowly consumed the pleasure you were experiencing but for some occasions such as now, you preferred that, the small sparks of pleasure almost like a reward through the burning pain in your cunt.

A thick glob of cum was slowly dripping out of your mouth from where it hung over the side of the bed, hand scrapping along the floor. There was a pillow squished under your hips to help keep them positioned up, after the long fucking that evening, you knew your knees wouldn’t be able to support your weight anymore. Then there was Sirius, positioned behind you, hands aggressively gripping your hips almost to the point of bruising, his hips frantically thrusting, cock pulsing in and out of your abused hole.

Your moans were spurring him on, completely unaware of your discomfort but this was your own fault, purposefully not telling him, wanting him to keep going. Of course, you were overdoing it, even getting to the point that your eyes were clenched shut in concentration, you didn’t care about the pain.

James and Remus were watching from the side, having already had their fill, James' cum dripping from your cunt, Sirius using it as lube for his own adventures and Remus’ glob dripped from your mouth, jaw aching from attempting to take his length as much as you could.

Both men were watching intently, their softened cocks already getting hard again from the sight before them. Remus silently shifted forward, trying to look at your face from where it hide, from the way you were just letting Sirius fuck you, he decided it was probably time to check in, knowing you’d already been through a lot that evening.

“Give me a minute Padfoot”, Remus muttered, squatting down in front of you.

Your only response was to groan with upset, attempting to roll your hips back against Sirius but he held you down easily with your lack of strength. The lycanthrope Marauder slipped his hand under your jaw, tilting it up at an awkward angle so that you could look into his eyes.

“Why are making him stop? It feels so good”, you sounded borderline pathetic, eyes dazed slightly.

Remus however did not seem at all convinced by your words that weren’t necessarily different to usual but it just seemed like he had an intuition, knowing you far too well. Tilting his head to the side, still studying your face intently, he asked, “Do you need to use your safe word?”

“No, no don’t stop”, once again, you attempted and failed to roll your hips. Remus’ fingers harden against your jaw, causing your eyes to sharpen at his serious expression. “Why are you making him stop? I’m fine”, you tried to sound convincing.

“Were you fine? Because you looked to me like you were in pain”, Remus stated matter-of-factly.

“No, it feels so good”, you tried to say. Remus only had to glance over your shoulder to Sirius, almost like they were having a silent conversation between themselves as Sirius dragged his cock an inch out of you, and the feeling of it against your sore walls gave you the automatic response to wince.

Instantly you regretted the action, with nowhere to hide your face, Remus and James had the perfect view to see your discomfort. “Wait, no- that… that wasn’t what you think it was, it still does feel good! Please don’t stop, I’m ok!”

Your panic was evident enough, knowing you’d been caught so rather than facing the truth, knowing you were hiding the pain from them, you tried to just carry on but by the sound of Remus’ heavy sigh, you knew you were in for it.

“I’m not doubting that it feels good but you KNOW you are supposed to tell us if it hurts and if we are going too far. This is why we have safe words”, Remus explained. You knew this, knew why these rules were there for your benefit but also for the boys, they didn’t want actually to cause you pain like this.

“But it’s not going too far, I don’t want Sirius to stop, please!”

Remus released his grip on your jaw and for a moment, your silly mind thought that Sirius was actually going to continue but he didn’t. In fact, he pulled his cock completely out of you which once more hurt and then his hands were pulling you further onto the bed and turning onto your back.

James was now hovering above you from where he sat at the top of the bed, holding down your wrists into the sheets, and Sirius did the same but with your ankles, the position causing your thighs to rub together which meant your cunt had no room to breathe, feeling uncomfortable.

However, your thoughts didn’t ponder on this for too long as the hulking form of Remus straddled over your hips, his naked body warm against yours. You were completely at their disposal being pinned down, especially as Remus's rough hand gripped your cheeks together, forcing you to look up at his intense stare.

“What are you supposed to do when you’re in pain and this goes too far?” he referred to the sex.

You tried to pull away, almost like warning alarms screaming in your consciousness, knowing what he was eventually getting to, now understanding how much you had fucked up.

However, the Marauder's grip was strong on your body and you were just wasting energy, feeling exhausted and giving up, knowing you wouldn’t be able to slither your way out of this. You whispered the answer to the most dominant Marauder who was waiting over your body.

“Excuse me? Answer me louder”, he demanded, still holding your cheeks, squishing them together so your lips formed an ‘o’ shape.

“I’m supposed to tell you or use my safe words”, the tone of your voice was evident that you were feeling defeated.

“Ah, so you do know what you are supposed to do. Now answer me honestly, are you in pain right now?”

In truth, you were in more pain than you’d realised now that you weren’t being fucked and the endorphins and adrenaline were wearing off. “A little bit…” you admitted to this, but still tried to downplay the situation.

“A little bit is still too far and you know it. Next question: should you have told us today that you’re in pain?” Remus continued to question you.

“Yes”, your voice was only just audible with its whisper as you began to feel anxious and sick, knowing exactly what was coming, especially with the intense way Remus looked down at you.

“Yes that’s right, so what do we do to naughty girls who don’t tell their partners that they are in pain?”

Now you’re struggling again, trying to cower away from him, sobbing as you shouted, “Remmie, please don’t-”.

“Hey!” he shouted with authority. “Enough of the whining, now answer my question.”

“They get punished”, once again defeated.

“Yes, they do. Because you were given a clear instruction and have chosen to ignore it so I need you to listen to me carefully”. You do exactly as instructed, relaxing your tense muscles and listening, knowing it was better to go along with it than make it any worse. But also, Sirius’ thumb was stroking soft circles into the skin of your ankle which helped the thundering of your heart in your chest. “Good, so you can follow instructions”, Remus mocked. “The safe word is still in place if this gets too much but, you need to understand why I am going to punish you. We have all of these set in place that when pain is becoming more than pleasure then you have to tell us because now, I’m sure you’re going to be sore for a few days and that’s not what we want, is it Pup?”

“No sir”, you reply submissively, eyes dropping down in defeat but he was quick to tilt your face up once more.

“Exactly. Now I want you to repeat back to me, why you are being punished before we start”.

A hot flush rushed through your body as the embarrassment set in as you had to recount why you were being punished. “Because I didn’t tell you to stop when it was starting to hurt”.

“Good”, Remus praised, his hard eyes softening ever so slightly which relaxed you even more but then his next words had your body feeling as if it had been doused in ice. “You are going to take 5 spanks from each of us then, you’ll be tied up and you are going to watch us. If you look away for even a second, we will start right at the beginning with the spanking. Then once we are done, you’re going to be a good girl and swallow each of our loads, do I make myself clear?”

You wanted to cry, not only were you being spanked which was humiliating in of itself, but now you had to watch each of them find their own release and satisfaction and then drink their rewards as you were left without any of your own. Your lack of response had James tapping against your wrists, snapping you out of your internal battle.

“Yes sir”.

Remus still continued to grasp your cheeks, dropping his authoritative stance to lean down to kiss your forehead. You could still use your safe words, you knew they wouldn’t actually push you so far but it was important for you to understand these situations had repercussions. You’d only ever been punished twice throughout your relationship with the trio and they understood that this was a big deal for you to go through, always wanting to make them happy and never wishing to upset them. On a few occasions, they had threatened to punish and you had used your safe words so you knew you could do it now but you decided to go along with it instead.

Not wanting to add anything further to your punishment, something the boys knew you were very good at as you were completely submissive to your core, you helped to move into position.

Remus sat on the edge of the bed, feet flat against the floor as you lay across his lap, feeling his strong thighs beneath your stomach, your arse presented to him like a gift in front of him. Your cunt still hurt from this position as your legs remained closed.

James noticed your visible discomfort and swiftly sat next to Remus, easing under your head so it now lay in his lap, his magical fingers stroking against your scalp helping to keep you relaxed. Sirius did the same, but had your legs lying across his lap, massaging the muscles to also feel somewhat at ease but as Remus lay his hand on your lower back, the reality of the situation returned.

“Are you going to count for me?” Remus asked, his voice a great deal softer than it had been a moment ago.

“Yes sir”.

Then he began. His large hand smacked against your left arse cheek and even though you knew it was coming, it still caused your to jump, thankful that all three of them were there to keep you on their laps. The impact stung as you bite your lip to hide the whimper before remembering your job, “one, sir.”

Remus continued with his spanks, remaining in the same spot on your left cheek, each one causing the skin to heat and jiggle, a sight all three men admired hungrily. As you took the fifth spank, Remus smothered the skin, squeezing the area and making sure to praise you, “Well done my love, you took them so well, counted each one perfectly”.

His words drifted into your mind and made you feel happy and safe, enjoying the momentary joy before the bodies beneath were swapping so James was in the middle, your arse on his lap with Remus cradling your head.

The quidditch-playing Marauder began to then spank your right cheek, but his hands were so big that they grazed over the sore area left by Remus, causing more stinging. However, this didn’t stop your counting, physically having to say the words helped to keep your consciousness present, knowing if you didn’t talk, you could just lose yourself to the punishment.

By the fifth smack to your arse and tenth overall, you were beginning to feel slightly buzzed, adrenaline returning to pump through your veins causing you to feel lightheaded and almost floaty. Remus stroked his thumb against your face, noticing your eyes were glazing over, tears threatening to spill.

This didn’t stop them, knowing when you were at your breaking point and when you were just feeling a little bit subspacey. Sirius now stared down at your spanked arse in his lap, enjoying the slightly raised skin from the impacts but also feeling just how drenched you were, your juices coating your thighs.

“Do you need to use your words, sweetheart?” Sirius asked softly as you began to silently cry.

“No”, you whispered with a wobbly lip, “sir”, you added quickly.

“My sweet girl, you’re doing so well, five more to go, you can do it”, Sirius praised before swatting his hand through the air and smacking the area where your arse cheek met your thigh, the exact space that you could be sitting on, his favourite spot.

You were slightly thankful for him choosing a different spot, your arse already feeling tender as you continued to count Sirius’ five spanks which added up to fifteen overall. This new area however caused your thighs to clench automatically which only meant that it squeezed your swollen cunt.

Remus caught each of your tears with the pad of his thumb but you knew you still looked like an absolute mess. Especially from between your legs as you were sure there was a wet patch forming on Sirius’ thighs from your still evident arousal, even through all the pain, the pleasure was still rampant.

Finally, after what felt like hours, you were rushing out the words, “Five, sir”. You were grateful for the spanks being over, trying to nuzzle your flushed face into Remus’ hands. You jumped slightly however as Sirius leaned down to kiss the burning hot skin of your ass, praising, “You did so so well honey”.

His erection throbbed under your stomach as he looked down at your pathetic state and you wished for nothing more than to stroke and touch it, momentarily forgetting that this wasn’t the end of your punishment.

Sirius didn’t however as he wrapped his strong arms around your middle, manhandling you up and further up the bed, you bounced on your sensitive arse a few times from where he placed you by the headboard. James then waved his wand in the direction of your arms and legs, wordlessly magically wrapping invisible string around your libs, causing them to extend and stretch to each of the bed posts.

You cried more now at the realisation that your punishment was nowhere near over and not entirely comfortable, still sitting on your sore ass. You also missed the warmth that had once surrounded you.

“Shhh, it’s ok love”, James encouraged, giving you a sad smile, tilting your head back to look up into his hazel eyes. He looked like he wanted to kiss you but refrained from doing so, showing too much praise and softness wasn't until the end of your punishment.

But then he was moving away, his messy hair bouncing as you watched him join the other two at the end of the bed and away from you.

Each of their cocks was hard and pointing up with the blood pumping hard through them and your eyes drifted between each of them, your tears slowing with the distraction.

Then Sirius was tugging James back by his hips, towards his own body until James' back and Sirius’ chest met and the long-haired Marauder’s mouth attached to the side of the other man’s neck. The muscles over both of their bodies flex with the instant arousal, James tilting his head further to give Sirius the room to move up and down, leaving open-mouthed kisses.

You didn’t look away, even in your spaced-out mind, something reminded you to not look away, not wishing to be spanked again. But it was also near-torturous watching the three of them, with the way your legs were spread wide, you weren’t able to roll your hips forward to relieve any of the tension in your clit, or rub your thighs together.

Sirius tweaked James’ perked nipples, causing the man to groan, turning his hand back so they could kiss, both mouths opening on instinct to allow their tongues to dance and twist together. The sight was almost hypnotic with how beautiful they all looked, especially as Remus moved closer to join from beside James.

Fuck, you were feeling almost desperate with arousal now, feeling fuzzy mentally and your chest had an unsettling tightness within with the need to be involved. But also, your horniness continued to cause your aching, swollen cunt to clench around nothing meaning you were absolutely drenched.

Remus’ grip encircled James’ veiny member that had beads of pre-cum already dripping from the tip, staining the sheets. The touch had James thrusting automatically, wanting to feel the pressure wrapped around him more. James moaned loudly, hungrily almost as he pulled back from Sirius’ mouth, but only so he could grab the back of Remus’ head to meet his mouth in a passionate kiss.

Sirius then started to wank himself off, teeth grazing along the exposed length of James’ neck. Remus was then moving off of James’ mouth to whisper something into his ear and you wished more than anything to hear what he said as the next second James’ eyes were flicking to yours, filled with pure lust.

A whimper slipped out of your mouth at the view, but you held your tongue for the pleas threatening to come out. You knew begging would get you nothing that you’d wanted as the first time you had ever been punished, you’d thrashed against the restraints, begging so much that your throat was raw for days and you’d practically passed out from exhaustion by the time the three of them had found their satisfaction.

So, you didn’t want to waste your energy, not that you had much of it left anyway after the fucking session that day or the spanking. Instead, you watched, biting your tongue to hold back the words you wanted to say and beg for.

Your eye contact with James swiftly broke as the man was suddenly pushed forward by Sirius who was on his knees behind, hands running up and down James’ toned back before cupping the arse perked in the air beneath him.

“So fucking pretty Prongs”, Sirius complimented, admiring the man’s body. James shifted his hips closer to Sirius who was now distracted as Remus climbed off of the bed and stood behind Sirius, hands running up and down his chest before gripping his long hair and pulling harshly to expose his ear.

Remus then whispered something to Sirius whose eyes rolled back to match his aggressive groan before nodding, opening his eyes fully to look down at James who was still waiting patiently on his hands and knees.

Sirius's mouth opened so he could spit down, aiming for James’ asshole, watching the glob gleam against the eagerly awaiting hole. Reaching down with his thumb, Sirius brushed against it, applying a little bit of pressure but not enough yet to slip inside.

James looked over his shoulder towards Sirius, “Fuck, I need you right now, I can take it Padfoot”, he begged.

Sirius raised a single eyebrow as he finally applied more pressure to the hole, feeling it expanding, “you really think you can take me without any prep?”

“Yes!” James then pushed back his hips, causing Sirius’ thumb to slip inside, all three men groaned, and Remus watched over Sirius’ shoulders and whispered something again.

“I’ll go slow”, Sirius stated, nodding at what Remus instructed, shifting on his knees closer ever so slightly and then guiding his cock to James' awaiting hole. Sirius spat again and wiped it over his cock, placing a steady hand on James’ hip to keep him steady and then he was slipping his cock in.

You watched as they both groaned in pure ecstasy, and you wanted nothing more to be feeling how they both felt right now.

Sirius managed to keep his slow thrusts for a couple of minutes, aware of not hurting James but the messy-haired Marauder was already rolling his hips back, attempting to increase the speed, enjoying the slight burn that came with the stretch of Sirius’ cock. This caused the man to lose all restraints and he began to mercilessly fuck the man beneath him. James gripped the sheets hard, his forehead resting on the sheets as his moans sounded pornographic, deep and husky.

The sight was beautiful but it was even more erotic as Sirius was gently pushed forward a little bit as Remus had his own plan as his fingers rested over his arse, watching the muscles clench with each thrust.

Your eyes didn’t know where to look between the three of your boyfriends before settling on Sirius whose eyes were wide, lips shiny with plumped from the kissing. His hips slowed as he felt Remus touch him from behind, nodding at the silent question being asked before Remus began gently easing two fingers into Sirius’ hole.

The thrusting completely stopped as Sirius grunted at the feeling of James’ hole wrapped around his cock and the two fingers stretching in his hole, grazing lazily over his prostate. His beautiful face tilted back at the pleasure, exposing his throat that Remus wrapped a strong hand around, keeping him still as he added a third finger.

“Do you want me to, Padfoot?” Remus asked loudly enough for everyone to hear. You wanted desperately to say you wanted him too but only released a small mewling whimper, still holding your tongue but the noise was enough for Remus’ eyes to flick to yours, his mouth quipping up into a smirk at how desperate you looked.

“Yes, Moony, please fuck me already”, Sirius sounded desperate as he widened his thighs on the bed, helping his cheeks to spread as Remus pulled his fingers out and lined himself up having spread his own precum over his cock, using it as lube.

Not even a second later, the three of them were joined. Remus stood behind the bed, his cock delved into Sirius’ asshole, whose face was scrunched in concentration, trying not to move Remus’ fat cock stretch him wide, whilst Sirus’ own cock was still warm inside of James’ asshole.

Eventually, the three of them began to rock back and forth on the bed, finding a rhythm that suited them best.

You were absolutely fucked out of your mind watching them all, usually, this sight would be your favourite but right now it was the worst punishment imaginable. Your cunt was swollen, throbbing with need and leaking your juices over the sheets and your arms and legs ached from being held out in the outstretched position, all you wanted to do was feel as good as them.

With ease and grace, the three men moved together, long limbs gripping onto each other, their low grunts like music to your ears, seeing the pleasure writhe on their expressions. Knowing the pleasure wasn’t something you were doing only added to the punishment, wishing that you were the one sucking their cocks, touching them, fucking them and making them feel good and it was only intensified by the subspace you were in mentally.

What was worst, was that other than the occasional glance that you’d experienced, the three of them completely ignored you, even though James wasn’t that far away from you, he never made the move to touch you. It was awful, letting you watch the three of them, even though you were highly aroused and wanting nothing more from their touch. It was a part of your punishment, you deserved this, they looked like they were having lots of fun without you, did they even need you?

The thoughts had your eyes now glassy with tears but you tried not to let them fall, they didn’t need a crying girl watching them fuck, so you remained silent.

Sirius was nearly overstimulated with the intense pleasure he was feeling with both his cock and prostate being stroked, it felt so fucking good, especially as Remus intensified his thrusts which he used as his own momentum to then fuck into James.

“Fuck! Just like that, right there…”, Sirius cried out over his shoulder as Remus gripped onto the back of his neck, using the hold to tilt his cock slightly so he could directly fuck into his pleasure spot.

“Yes! Yes! Yes- Fuck I’m gonna cum”, Sirius suddenly revealed.

It all happened in a blue. One minute you were watching the three of them fuck and the next, James was being pushed further onto the bed and Remus was helping Sirius stand up on the mattress, walking over James’ body until he stood over you. With one hand, he tipped your head back and the other gripped the base of his cock as it pulsed and throbbed.

It was on instinct that your mouth dropped open, completely forgetting about this part of your punishment as Sirius’ cum began spurting out, most of it dripping into your awaiting mouth as he watched eagerly, only a few drops collecting on your chin.

The tears you were keeping at bay began to slip down your warm cheeks, feeling humiliated as you swallowed his load and then licked his fingers clean as he scooped up the drops you’d missed. You hated this, hated that you were left to drink their reward whilst you were there without any sort of gratification.

“Look so pretty when you cry Darling”, Sirius whispered, his own cheeks rosy as he breathed heavily. For a second, he wiped away your tears before a moan sounded from behind him, causing him to jump off of the bed and sit in a nearby chair to watch the rest of the show.

This gave you the view of James who had been dragged down the bed by Remus and turned onto his back before he was leaning over him and hungrily kissing him. Both of their hands roamed over each other's bodies, exploring one another as their hips thrust together, cocks rubbing and bumping into one another.

James made the move first to reach in between their bodies, pushing Remus’ cock lower towards his awaiting hole and Remus didn’t waste another second before he was thrusting forward.

“That’s it, you’re taking me so well Prongs”, Remus praised the man beneath him, feeling his hole stretch the limit around his girthy member. Just like Sirius had, Remus began slow but soon wasn’t holding back, fucking hand and fast enough that the bed was shaking with the movements, rocking your body as well.

“Fuck, don’t stop!” James suddenly groaned as Remus wrapped his hand around his cock that was still throbbing between them, his wrist moving in time with his thrust.

Once your tears had started, you couldn’t stop them from falling now in jealousy and desperately watching them both, wanting nothing more to bed for them to just look at you, to acknowledge that you were even there, to get them to touch you but still, you wanted to be a good girl so refrained from doing this.

Remus's hair stuck to his forehead as he fucked James hard and it wasn’t that much longer before the man beneath him was shouting, “Wait, stop moony!”

Then he was scrambling to his feet on the bed, legs wobbling slightly as he now stood over you, hand moving up and down his shaft as your mouth dropped open in time to drink down his cum.

Your eyes drank in every little detail about James from his even messier hair than usual, the way his abs clenched with each spurt and the salty taste of his loads as it coated your tongue and this time, you managed to catch it all.

James smiled kindly down at you but didn’t get the chance to touch you as he was gently moved out of the way, stepping down to join Sirius at the side, as Remus now stood over you.

You held his eye contact, jaw aching as you held your mouth open submissively as he began to toss himself off. From this position, you could see his cock gleaming in the low light of the room, with what was Sirius and James’ natural body juices. The grip he held strengthed as it moved faster, his eyes glancing down at the wet patch that had formed between your legs and on the sheets blow.

“You look so pretty, Pup”, Remus’s voice was thick with arousal, using the nickname he only called you, causing your heart to beat harder in your chest as he finally spoke to you. This distracted you a little from the situation but then as something warm began to fill your mouth, you tried to concentrate on not choking, quickly having to swallow as his cum completely filled your mouth.

With a full body shudder, Remus’s last drop of cum spurted from his tip and another swallow later, he was finished, shoulders dropping releasing a heavy sigh in relief.

Remus then knelt between your legs, gripping your cheeks, much like he’d done earlier, holding your attention. “Do you understand why you’ve been punished?”

“Yes, sir.” Your voice was timid, tears still cascading down your cheeks. You were completely and utterly submissive.

“Good girl”. He released the grip on your cheeks and began to stroke the aching muscle instead but you were quick to nuzzle into his hand, wanting to feel any sort of comfort. “My sweet girl, you did so well”.

“I did?” you asked, your eyes and voice filling with hope at making him happy.

“You did! Not even begging once did you? I’m so proud of you”, Remus encouraged. You could have cried more at the praises, almost like what he said was sacred it was just what you needed. “What do you want my love?” Remus finally asked, his eyes softened as he looked at you.

“I…I want you all”, you finally sobbed, pulling on your invisible restraints. Remus motioned for James and Sirius to step forward, both of them holding their wands and waving them, releasing your limbs from the bonds.

With nothing to hold up your body, you instantly were slumping forward into Remus who was able to ease you into his lap, your head resting against his chest as the other two men sat on either side, beginning to massage your sore muscles.

Their skin was hot to the touch but that only helped you to relax further. “Oh love, you’re so wet”, Remus mumbled, feeling the evidence of your arousal over your thighs which now coated his from where you sat. “How much does it hurt?” he asked, referring to in between your legs.

You wanted to lie and say it didn’t anymore, wanting to feel their cocks but you knew you couldn’t, having already received one punishment.

“It…it still hurts, but I’m so horny, I don’t know what do you!”, you were near hysterics with how desperate you were feeling, it felt like your core was incredibly heavy with tautness, desperate for relief but your actual cunt was still tender.

Remus began to steadily rock the two of you on the spot as James lay sweet kisses to your temple. You leaned into the feeling, savouring the sensation as each of them kissed a part of your body but it wasn’t enough.

“Please…”.

“Shhh Pup, I’m going to try and touch you but if it hurts you need to say”, Remus suggested, brushing his fingers over your stomach and between your thighs. It was only a gentle touch to your clit but even that caused burning hot sparks of pain, enough so that you flinched and tried to pull your hips away from him on instinct.

“That’s ok, I’m not going to touch you”, Remus calmly stated, kissing your temple and looking towards Sirius for some help.

Sirius leaned over to kiss your moist cheek, his hand gripped tightly in his hand as he muttered, “Im going to make you feel good Sweetheart”.

You weren’t entirely sure what he meant but then he was pointing his wand at your cunt, whispering a spell under his breath and it was almost an instantaneous reaction.

Your pussy tightened and you were cumming with one of the most intense orgasms you’d ever experienced. Aggressively rocking your hips with each shuddering contracting of your spasming, swollen cunt, nails harshly dripping into whoever you had grabbed. White lights flashed in your vision and finally, you were feeling that orgasmic high, even without being touched.

You were only half aware that you’d begun screaming, head slipping off Remus’ shoulder as you began dizzy and lightheaded. The feeling then began to fade as Sirius stopped the spell, you weren’t even sure how long it had been going on for but by the time your cunt had stopped squeezing around nothing, you were struggling to breathe through the intensity.

“Nice long breaths, that’s it, we’ve got you, Love”, Remus's voice spoke from next to your ears as he cradled your body. It took several minutes to even gather a single lucid thought that made sense, mostly just aware that you were mentally and physically drained.

The subspace you’d been in was still at the forefront of your consciousness, needing to feel all three of them, listening to their words of affirmation.

“Let’s get you up before you completely pass out”, James suggested, seeing your eyes dropping. The three of them helped you to the bathroom, mostly having to carry you as your legs didn’t seem to want to work after being fucked, punished, and then the intense orgasm.

In the bathroom, they helped you to the toilet before the four of you bathed, and you moaned greatly to the hot, soapy water that mellowed your aching body.

“I love you”, you whispered to all three of them.

“We love you too, Pup”, Remus mumbled against your temple before helping you out of the bath, wrapping your naked body in a fluffy towel, and carefully drying your body. James was then next to you, helping you into your favourite pair of fluffy pyjamas, making sure the shorts weren’t too tight to give your pussy space to still breathe and heal.

Helping you back into bed, the wet stains now vanished thanks to Sirius, you all but collapsed into the centre of the bed, half aware that someone shifted beneath you and other arms were wrapping around you in a strong cocoon. You weren’t sure who was where as you fell asleep within seconds but you knew you felt grounded and whole.

[mmorw]

Azami Nakiri, your husband, can be quite fastidious about the kinds of things that come into his mouth.

cw: smut. afab chr. spit kink. blowjob. not explicit dirty talk. rough sex. squirting. mention tokophobia. nipple play. reconciliation as a couple. public sex ? twitter link.

His mouth is open for any kind of food you put inside it, let his tongue taste and swallow some fine dish from some fancy restaurant you reserved just for the two of you; Azami can be so sweet when you are alone and together, even if he likes too much to draw attention to himself to show off in the face of others the kind of king he claims to be.

must maintain his posture and image in public, so no hands on his thigh or grabbing his ass, even if it looks fluffy; don't do it if you don't want your husband to scold you and ignore you when you two get home.

His words can be harsh, be careful with that ! Azami has this bad habit of sounding the most classist with everything that comes out of his mouth, so if he hurt your feelings, punish him !

make him cry for forgiveness while you give him hard and deep thrusts to his tight intimacy, force him in the most uncomfortable position and slap his pussy until his legs tremble from so many orgasms; make him lose his mind until you spit in his mouth and force him to swallow it while only pardons come out of his mouth.

I think I know that Azami can be quite resentful of the kind of rough sex you are required to engage in, so calm down a bit before you go to sleep and help him clean up; or your husband's sanity will diminish every time you leave his cunt wide open and oozing your seed all the way down his tight hole. ♡

If you treat him like a king and behave yourself, the next day Azami might give you a nice blowjob under the table where you are completing your work, you will only feel when he comes once he hastily puts your fat cock inside his mouth,, watching you as he sucks and chokes on your length, reaching so deep that he touches his nose against your stomach and his hands tighten on your legs, freely fiddling with the skin around your glans until you grunt and cum in his oral cavity.

this idiot can sound like a robot the times he even criticizes the flavors you might have. if he liked the corresponding flavor he'll become a sucker himself until he sucks you dry, and if not, he'll probably force you to eat something else to "soften it up", crazy fucker.

Azami has had enough with two children, his mood will fade once you whisper to him (even jokingly) that you want another baby in the house, he will consider hiring a nanny if your brutaciousness gets him pregnant,, as "mister culinary king" has a reputation out there, taking care of another newborn seems more of a challenge than a normal pleasure for him.

Tsundere, he is a Tsundere. more if it's about playing with his nipples because he becomes a blushing slut for just that. coming back from humiliating teenagers with passionate dreams only for you to appear behind him and with your hands,,, your fucking hands grope his perky nipples behind the cloth until they get hard.

pull them while you murmur disgusting things in his ear, although his face doesn't change at all you know how wet he's getting, his ears turned red and it was hard for him to focus on you, how wonderful.

Don't do this to him in public places, how embarrassing ! His hand holding seems to be stronger than what you would see at first glance, take care of him in his fucking limo and just pray that no one comes near you two during your nice time alone. ♡

[zialltops]

honeysuckle’s & huckleberry’s

Cowboy!Joel (41) X F!Reader (25) | 27.7k | wip | explicit | 18+ minors dni | enemies to lovers | slow burn | au: no cordyceps outbreak

After four years away at collage, you’re finally home with the tools and knowledge to save your family ranch. That is, if their ranch hand would stay out of your way.

Or: Ranch hand Joel doesn’t know how to handle the return of his bosses prodigy daughter, her snarky little attitude, or her sinfully tight jeans.

a/n: howdy ya’ll! This chapter took me a HOT minute to finish because i’ve been severely sick (if you’ve been on this ride with me since esos you know i struggle with my health) but it’s finally here! I cant thank everyone enough for reading and as much as I wish i could hear from you guys more often, i’m just going to keep writing along and hope someone likes it! The smallest interactions bring me so much joy.

Masterlink

ao3 link | spotify playlist

Chapter 5: On My Way To You

He’s never been more humiliated in his entire fucking life. Never—not ever, has he ever felt this embarrassed about someone seeing him naked. He’s been shot down mid alleyway make-out when she’d pressed too close and felt it. He’s been left in a hotel room when he had a woman naked under him and he finally pulled his pants down. Hell—he’s been told it hurts, asked to stop—asked to leave. But never has it made his heart pound and his cheeks stain red, never made him wheeze from anxiety and dread.

He didn’t mean for it to happen—he’s been doing his best to avoid you, give you the space you want, but you’ve been nicer lately and it makes him want to get closer, test those waters and get to know you, but the second he lets himself start to give in, his body goes full force and he has to get away. Today was a hard day for him because he’d been up late the night before trying to rewire a break in the fence that let out three heifers and the little calf you’d saved on Christmas.

He’d crashed hard last night and woke up too late to work himself over before starting his day—it usually helps him keep his cool, but today he spent two hours hours in the saddle of one of Hank’s horses, moving the heifers getting ready to calf to a smaller pasture, the older steer that were about to be sold off from last years calves to a quarantine pen. It was mindless and easy and Joel spent the whole time thinking about you and your pretty eyes and the way you still wear that necklace every day, like you haven’t even thought to take it off.

By the time he stops by the house for something to drink, he’s already spent half his morning picturing you in every position possible—real like he’s never had it before. He’s smack dab in the middle of one of his favorite fantasies, one where you’re going down on him, fully aware of what’s under his belt buckle and wranglers. You’d be so sweet to him, make him feel desirable without feeling like a chore. You’d kiss the length of him over his denim, drag his pants down his thighs and you wouldn’t gasp in shock. You’d want him—your mouth would water for him and you’d give him those pouty lips and bright eyes when you finally run your tongue from base to tip—it would be perfect—

“Morning Joel.”

He’s so caught up in his vision of you in his head he’s completely unprepared for this version, with berries smeared on the corner of your mouth, like the jam is just too sweet for you to leave untasted—you’re swimming in a sweater too big for you and christ he hates when you wear legging, hugging every curve of your body, filling in the shape of your body like a shadow. He does his best to form a sentence, keep himself from staring at the necklace chain he can see poking out of your collar. you’re wearing it, you’re wearing it, you’re wearing it.

When you lick the spoon clean, his stomach hits the floor and his head spin’s suddenly from loss of blood as everything warm and tingly in his body travels south. He knows he has to get out of there, doesn’t have time to stand here for another second if he wants to keep what's going on in his pants to himself.

He’ll kick himself later for not giving you an excuse to run off, but he doesn’t have a choice in the matter right now. He practically runs for the barn, the small bathroom inside is a well learned friend, where he can rub one out fast and get it out of his hungry system. His body is famished, starved for your skin and he isn’t sure how much more of this he can take.

He gets his pants down as fast as he can, spits in his hand and starts quick. God, the way you’d looked at him when he walked in there, like you were happy to see him for once, glad to share his company—if only he wasn’t such a complete piece of shit who can't take a kind gesture for just that.

He sees your smile and he wants to dig his hands into the meat of your ass and hoist you up. Wants to hold you down and take you apart with his mouth. Your eyes meet his and he wants to watch them roll back when you take all of him, like no one ever has, ever will but he can let himself imagine it in this tiny bathroom that smells like livestock and dirt. He can imagine the way you’d want it, want him. The way you’d tell him how good he felt, how good he made you feel despite what he’s always been told about himself.

Just a few more—a couple more tugs and he’s almost there, so fucking close to the thought of your body and his, and…and…

The next thing he knows your eyes are on him, then tick down to his hand wrapped around himself like the pathetic man he knows he is. He’ll never forget the way you looked at him, the way you told him how traumatized you were to see him like that, he’s sure it would have hurt less if you’d stabbed him in the heart with a dull knife.

He fucking runs back to the cabin and get’s himself under a cold shower, trying to keep his hair from getting wet so you don’t know while his body takes a shock to its system, flushing out the desire and replacing it for his shame. When he’s red and shaking from the cold, he re-dresses and heads back towards the house. The longer he hides, the more likely you are to piece together the odd string of occurrences surrounding his disappearances. The longer he waits, the more guilty he looks, so he forces himself up the stairs, trying his best to catch his breath outside of the door until he finally has the gull to knock. He knows you’re in there, he can faintly hear something, soft little sounds that he can't quite make out, so he calls your name when the small rasps don’t catch your attention.

He nearly leaves when the door finally comes open, and…fuck if you aren’t a sight for his painfully sore eyes. You’re red all over, stunning, breathing hard with wide eyes like you’ve been caught at something. Maybe you have, he can imagine, maybe you were touching yourself—thinking about him. It's a futile dream, but he lets himself have it anyways.

No matter how much he runs, how much he tries his hardest to stay away, everything you do ropes him in and hog ties him up, unable and unwilling to be moved until you’ve decided what to do with him now that everything he is, is yours.

It’s shame that keeps him from embarrassing himself again once he drives into town, because the way you press against him in the truck makes his skin boil. He doesn’t deserve to have you beside him after what you’d been forced to witness, but that doesn’t stop him. He wants to slip his hand along your thigh, wishes Tommy wasn’t sitting beside you and he could stuff his hand down the front of your leggings and show you a thing or two—he knows he’s good with his hands—his mouth, he has to be if he wants to get a woman off. He wants to show you exactly what he could do for you, to you, but he keeps his mouth closed and taps his fingers against the steering wheel the whole way. It’s infuriating, how much you get along with Tommy now, who’s been nothing but crude to you, making passes at you left and right and god help him, you let him. He wants you to talk to him like that too, he wants to make you laugh, make you giggle and blush prettily.

But he just loads the truck. Watches when you and Tommy snicker over a bottle of whiskey he knows he can't touch because last time he made a fool of himself. He tries not to intrude on your space, tries not to bother you and Tommy around the fire later after he’s done unloading the truck alone. Not even Tommy helps him around here anymore, too far up your ass that he’s damn near useless.

He watches from the window like a fucking creep, trying not to work himself up over the way you smile at his brother, the way you throw your head back laughing at something stupid he probably said. He wants that to be him, sitting beside you with whiskey making him bold, faking it for him since he doesn’t have the ability to just talk to you. He’s sure he’d tell you everything, how beautiful he thinks you are, how much smarter than him you are. He’d probably tell you how many times he’s thought about you with his hands wrapped around himself, in the dark of his room with your name on his lips.

He doesn’t do any of that, instead he watches you from the window and lets his heart ache and pound until he sees the way Tommy lingers closer, touches your leg absently and you let him. He has to put a stop to this, so he tracks out into the cold and tries to put his foot down. Maybe Tommy will go to bed, you’ll let him walk you home and it will be so cold that you’ll ask him to stay again. But before he has a second to beg you otherwise, you’re kissing his brother.

You’re kissing his brother instead of him and he can't watch for another second, so he hightails it inside and slams his bedroom door behind himself. He can usually hear right through Tommy’s wall, but he holds his hands over his ears and tries his hardest to keep the sound of his ragged breaths from making it through the walls. At some point, he falls asleep, wishing you were laying right beside him, sprawled out, satisfied and spent with the shape of his teeth on your shoulder.

When he wakes in the morning, it’s not even close to sun up yet. He has a long day ahead of him, has to ride up to the north pasture, acres upon acres of beautiful pine covered land, but Joel has to ensure that the streams aren’t frozen over if he wants to move the heifers and their calves there soon. He gets dressed with a ache in his bones that he knows didn’t come from his age, his stomach is in knots because he knows what's been done, he knows he can’t change it—that he might not ever stand a chance with you now that you’ve been with him. Women always preferred Tommy over him, all the same cowboy charm with a bit more confidence.

He slips on his boots and places his hat on his head before lingering in the hallway for a long moment. He stares at Tommys door and imagines you sleeping on the other side of it. Did you like it? Do you like him?

He turns and starts down the hallways when the door comes open with a slow creak. He turns back around in the dark light of the hallway and, there you are wearing one of Tommy’s shirts and nothing else, your hair is mused and you have this look on your face, one that reeds shame and worry and for what Joel just can't quite put his finger on. You don’t say anything for a long time, just Joel and you and the fading darkness outside, your eyes tracking over him with a shiny hue to them.

“Where are you going?” Where is he going is the first thing you have to say to him? Like he climbed out of your bed and snuck off. “I uhm…I have a long ride up to the north field, thought I would get a early start on it.” He clears his throat and glances down at his boots, then back up at you. “Though I should give ya’ll some space, no one wants their brother listenin’ in.”

He starts to turn away again because he can’t look at you for another second when he knows you have his saliva on your skin and the shapes of his hands on your body.

“Can I come with you?” Go with him? You want to go with him when there’s a warm body waiting for you in a warm bed, where you can hide from the cold world, the impending darkness and a man like him. “You want to go? Why?” You close the bedroom door behind you like you don't want to wake Tommy and it makes Joel’s heart pound out of his chest for reasons it shouldn’t. “I don't know, it’s cold out there, you’re uhm…you’re naked.”

He tries, really tries to keep his eyes off your bare thighs, the shirt hanging off your frame and your sock-less feet on the hardwood. “I’m not naked, I have underwear on,” you lift one side of the shirt like you have to prove it to him and his eyes track to the black lace hugging your hips. Saliva builds in his mouth and he clears his throat, needing to turn away from you again. “If you want to come you should probably put some clothes on, I’ll meet you in the stable.” He starts to gather up his things, a light and his phone, trying to make himself busy so he can get away. “Well, will you wait for me—I don’t want to walk alone.” And Joel doesn’t want to do this right now, walk with you for a half mile back to the stables, sit beside you, wondering if it aches sitting in the saddle because his brother fucked you.

But he waits anyway, fiddles with the brim of his hat while he sits on the couch in silence as he waits for you to get dressed. You come out in your clothes from the night before, bundled up in a big jacket with your hair tied back. He tells himself not to think about it and heads towards the door. The walk to the stables is nearly silent, but the pounding in his ears drowns out the awkwardness in the interaction. How can he stop thinking about it? How you slept with him but dragged yourself out of bed to follow Joel into the cold? How you would trade a warm body for Joel’s cold shoulder?

“Need help with your saddle?” His voice feels raw from not using it, his hands aching from the cold while he cinches up the girth strap. This time next year, hell be saddling up Cersi to take this trip, he cant wait, but for now he’ll ride Hanks sturdy horse through the mud and snow. “I’ve got it, thank you.” There's no snap in your tone like he expects there to be and you work with him in unison, getting your mounts ready while the sun starts to climb into the atmosphere. By the time he gets out of the barn, you’re smiling at him. Smiling from your spot in the saddle with the reigns in your hands like you’re made for that.

“You ready to get a move on, cowboy?” His chest tightens at the way you gaze at him, wondering if you’d given Tommy that same look the night before. He wants to pretend it was all for him, pretend that you’re looking at him like that because you see something you haven’t before.

“You ready, cowgirl? When's the last time you were in a saddle?” He tries his damndest to keep his tone light as he hooks a foot in the stirrup and hoists himself up. “Been a couple years, but I don’t think I’ll ever forget how to ride.”

Did you practice last night? He shakes his head and wills away the image. He doesn’t think he'll be able to stop thinking about it for the rest of the ride, he can’t get the image of your mouth on his out of his head no matter how much he tries. It’s always fucking Tommy. He’s always been the favored brother, no matter how much of a fuck up he is. He’s always been the one to get the girl, the popular one in school, hell even his wife—

“You okay in there cowboy?”

Your voice comes like a shock to his system, snapping him out of another unpleasant memory. “Huh?” He looks around until he lays eyes on you, riding beside him with your hands resting on the horn of the saddle. “I was asking if you’re okay…you’ve been really quiet for the past half hour.” Half an hour? It's been a half hour since he started this ride? “Yeah, no, sorry. I have a lot on my mind, is all.” You pick up the pace beside him a little, till your horses are walking alongside each-other on the path. “Anything you want to talk about?”

He sits on the words for a second. He doesn’t want to talk about it, not particularly—but its you and your asking him and fuck, he wants you to get to know him. Maybe if you knew who he was, maybe if he had a chance to explain why he’s like this you might change your mind.

“I was thinkin’ ‘bout my ex-wife.” He keeps his eyes ahead of him, because he doesn’t want to see the look on your face when you hear that, that he had a whole other life away from this place. “My mom told me you had an ex-wife. She didn’t tell me what happened.”

You knew? He’d told Hank and Louise a lot about his life, he had to if he wanted them to trust him. He wasn’t a bad man, just a burdened one. “We uh…we had a rocky marriage. Got together young, right out of high school. I was learning to work a cattle ranch and I thought I would be able to give her a good life but—she wanted more, I suppose. Started steppin’ out on me. She got pregnant by another man, but I still didn’t leave. Helped raise that little girl like she was my own.”

He thinks about Sarah and her curly hair that definitely didn’t come from him or her mom, her sweet smile, her first day of school—all the things he missed.

“What made you finally leave?” Your voice is so quiet beside him. He looks over at you under the brim of his hat and sighs. “She slept with Tommy. Came home from picking up Sarah from school and I…caught ‘em together in bed. Tommy said he did it because he wanted to prove to me that she wasn’t any good for me but, I don’t know, I’ve never been very good and stayin’ angry at him.”

Your eyes look far away in that moment, like you’re clouded in some kind of guilt, maybe because you’d slept with Tommy, too. “I’m sorry that happened to you, Joel.” He clicks his tongue and shakes his head absently. “Ain’t no thing. I’m used to it by now, he’s always had a way with ‘em that I never had.”

He has, Joel can't even recall every encounter he’s had with a woman that ended with them leaving with his brother. Hell, it had been five years since the last time he’d (kind of) had sex, no thanks to his cockblocker of a brother. The first time in years since he’s felt more than just attraction to a woman and Tommy takes that from him too.

“We should get a move on, we don’t have all day and I have a lot to do when I get back.”

He digs his heal in and the horse picks up speed and to his surprise, you keep gate with him along the trail.

When he gets to the gate of the north pasture, his ass hurts from being in the saddle and his face feels wind chapped, but you don’t complain about a lick of it, like you wouldn’t want to be anywhere else in the world right now. “Joel?” He’s closing the gate behind you when you call his name. It makes him look up from the latch. “Yeah?” He gets it in place and mounts his horse again, adjusting his hat on his head. “I’m really sorry, about how I treated you when I first came home.”

Fuck do you have to do this right now? Out here, where he has nowhere to run off to? “You're not the one who needs to be sorry. I never should have done half the things I did to you. I didn’t even know you and I assumed the worst of you. Should’ve never done any of that to you.” He never should have left you in the cold, never should have treated you any differently than anyone else because he thought you came from somewhere that didn’t like folks like him when he really likes girls like you. So smart and put together, so capable and confident.

“We got off on a bad foot, I suppose…do you think maybe we could…start over?”

You want to start over? With him? give him a second shot to not fuck this up again? Or maybe you don’t mean it like that, like he desperately wants it to mean, even if you fucked his brother last night, he doesn’t care, he’d take his sloppy seconds any day because it’s you.

“I’d really like that.” There's a sweet kind of shimmer in your eyes when you smile at him, rosey cheeks and a crinkle by your kind eyes. His sight ticks down to your chest, where he can see the necklace he’d given you sticking out of the top. You’re still wearing it, had you worn it last night? When he laid you down on his cold sheets while Joel wished desperately it was his?

Despite the pang in his chest, the rest of the ride is easy and light, you talk about nothing and absolutely everything, your favorite color, your favorite time of the year, Joel tells you how much he loves the spring and you excitedly agree, going on and on about watching the world come back to life.

You tell him about college, how out of place you felt surrounded by people who were so different from you. How nervous you were for the first year, but you’d made a best friend out of your room mate Mel, and you finally got the hang of it in your second year.

He tells you about drifting from place to place because Tommy usually stirs up some trouble and runs them out of town. He tells you about all the times he’s had to save his ass to your parents and how much he’s tried to hang on to the one good place he’s had in so long. He could talk to you for hours, all day if you’d let him, and you do. You hold his conversations like you’re a pair of old friends, catching up after years spent apart.

He’s so lost in you that he doesn’t even realize you’re back home until the house comes into view. He’s spent so much time immersing himself in talking to you that he’s completely lost track of where he is, letting the miles blow past him. It’s mid day and he still has a lot to do and he can tell you’re starting to get sore in the saddle. “I’ll get them cooled down, you should probably get some rest. You couldn’t of gotten much sleep last night.” He swings his leg over and climbs off the horse before taking yours by the halter so you can do the same. “Thank you for today…it’s been a while since I’ve had a good reason to ride.” You give him one of those smiles again and it takes everything in him not to lean in and kiss you because of it. He’s wanted to kiss you all damn day, slide his fingers into the hair at the base of your skull and hold on tight, slot his lips over yours and breathe you in deep until he can’t let you go again.

He doesn’t and you head off towards the house while he looks on. He watches till you make it inside and then some before getting back to his chores.

Work consumes the entirety of his day, until the sun sets and it starts to get dark and chilly when he’s finally got the animals fed and the equipment locked up. He knows Tommy is back at the cabin because he dropped off a plate of dinner to Joel in the stable on his way home. He’s about to start the walk back to the cabin himself when he hears the creak of the screen door on the house just across the yard. He closes the barn door behind himself and follows the sounds. You’re standing on the porch in a pair of sleep shorts and slippers, a tee-shirt that's too big and a nervous look on your face. You don't say anything, but Joel’s feet carry him to the steps, then up them one at a time, carefully and painfully slow, like he might spook you away if he moves too quickly. The wind is absolutely howling right now, whipping your hair around and cinching your shirt tight against your frame.

He hits the landing and takes a few more steps forward, until he’s a foot away from your shaking form, your big pretty eyes that are searching every corner of his. He should say something, he should say how much he enjoyed today, how much he wants to do it again and again and again.

“I didn’t have sex with him.”

It’s not what he expected you to say standing out here in this unforgiving cold, but its the best damn thing he’s heard you say all day. It feels like an endless weight coming off his shoulders and he lets out a loud gush of air he didn’t know he was holding. “What?” You puff your chest out a little, like you’re trying to get a point across to him. “I didn't have sex with Tommy last night.” You say it so matter of factly.

“Why didn’t you?” He reaches up and pushes his hat up a little, wiping sweat from his brow with the back of his hand. His heart is pounding, his limbs shaking at the admission. “You know why.”

All at once, his pounding heart comes to a staggering stop, standing there on the porch looking down at you while he tries to keep himself upright. He doesn’t know why but the way you're looking at him now tells him there's something else here besides anger and hatred and shared distaste. You didn’t sleep with Tommy, because on the other side of that wall you were wanting him just as desperately as he wanted you.

“It’s cold out here…do you want to sleep on the couch tonight?”

Joel’s bottom lip quivers so much he has to suck it into his mouth to make it stop, bite down on it to put it at ease. “Yeah, I…I’d like that.”

A warm little hand finds his, tentative fingers intertwined with his while you lead him inside of the house. You don’t take him upstairs, Joel doesn’t expect you to. You lead him to the couch and he sits down, kicking off his boots when you reach up for his hat. You set it on the arm rest beside him and grab a blanket off the back of the couch when he lays himself back on the pillow.

His body aches, his eyes feel heavy, but he doesn’t dare close them when he’s got an angel standing right before his eyes. “Goodnight, Cowboy.” You hum sweetly, lean down and press your lips against the apple of his cheek, more delicate than he’s ever been touched before in his entire fucking life.

When you pull away, those same cheeks are painted pink and he does his best not to grin too stupidly. “Goodnight, Cowgirl.”

You take the stairs up to your room but Joel rides the elevator to heaven from his spot on the living room couch.

[ooihcnoiwlerh]

So I've been working on a Feyd-Rautha/Reader fanfic, and am working out various headcanons I have for him in terms of his sexual preferences and past, as well as what I've written but might be a little too silly to include in future chapters and kind of want to get it out there to get an opinion on things.

Link here: And I Don't Want Your Heart - Chapter 1 - ooihcnoiwlerh - Dune (2021) [Archive of Our Own]

Some of my NSFW headcanons down below

-Okay, so it's firmly established that he's a sadomasochist. It's also mentioned in the books that he'd been abused by his uncle when he was younger. I don't think the two necessarily have to correlate but I think on some level he finds physical pain cathartic, and the moments in which he's masochistic to him feel like he's reclaiming something for himself. He chooses the pain rather than having it inflicted on him.

-I get the impression that he's generally more dominant but in the right headspace with the right person can enjoy being more submissive. It has to be explicitly on his terms, though. Like with pain, he has to make it clear that this is something he's giving of his own free will and that is not to be taken lightly.

-I don't think he would or could ever tolerate being subjected to humiliation, degradation, or feeling emasculated. Subjecting a partner to that, sure, but I feel like that would actually be a severe trigger for him so someone calling him pathetic or questioning his manhood in the bedroom may very well get killed on the spot for it. He's buried a lot of his trauma from his uncle's abuse but those things awaken it.

-I don't think there's a specific kink community with a vocabulary or guidelines on Geidi Prime. I don't think he knows what a trigger or a safeword is. As established already in my fic, he doesn't fully understand the concept of aftercare and is pretty bad at providing it (so far.)

-Being an arena fighter on Geidi Prime basically makes him a rock star, and as such he does get his equivalent of groupies. He's never been in an actual romantic relationship, but people fascinated with his brutality in the arena have gotten curious about what he's like in the bedroom and while it doesn't happen all the time, he has sufficiently satisfied their curiosity.

-I'm not sure if this will end up making it into the fic, but I picture him as being predominantly but not exclusively attracted to women, and as someone who's had a couple of consensual encounters with men as an adult, partly out of genuine curiosity/interest and partly to reclaim some level of power.

-Spoilers for future chapters--I'm writing it that he doesn't have sex with his Darlings. They're a little too animalistic even for him. He doesn't mind if people assume he does, though, because of the danger and fear associated with it.

-He enjoys period sex. Nothing deeper about it, the man just likes blood. Will also enthusiastically go down on his partner during the heaviest days.

-So...here's where I'm worried it's going to get a little goofy. While he has a lot of kinks that would be considered adjacent to BDSM, as I said I don't picture there being a specific community. I wrote a scene that hasn't been posted yet of Feyd-Rautha using a flogger on the Reader character and her initially being terrified thinking it's a cat-of-nine-tails and calming down somewhat when she realizes it's not that severe. I'm worried it will seem ridiculous, but I could also picture him having something certain tools custom-made for him. It was one of the first scenes I wrote for this fic but am worried it will come across as tacky/not fitting for the environment. Granted, I'm not writing a particularly substantial fanfic. It's completely removed from the main plot and is mostly a combination of character study and smut so I think anyone who's enjoying it probably knows that it's not that deep. *

*Although to be clear, I'd love to hear from people on that they think.

[withacapitalp]

How to Rehabilitate a Jock Part 7

Part One Part Six Part Eight Link to Ao3

Thank you to @stevethehairington for Betaing for me!!! A reminder I'm not adding anyone else to the tag list, be sure to follow or subscribe on ao3 if you want to know when this updates!

-----------Step Seven: Assist Him With His Kids----------

Well, Steve really had to hand it to the kids. 

They sure knew how to scream. 

Right after Eddie’s oh so perfectly timed reveal, the boys had devolved into a full blown raging interrogation. Steve, seeing the writing on the wall, had started walking to the door the second Eddie gave him that little shit eating grin that always spelled trouble. He was already in the hallway by the time the kids turned around to face him. 

Because, as fun as it sounded to get dressed down by four twelve year olds in front of the rest of the group, he thought it might be prudent to skip that bit of public humiliation. 

Sure enough, his kids had scampered into the hall right after him, yelling the entire way. There were accusations left and right, clearly hurt feelings, and Wheeler was once again on a tirade about kicking Steve out of the party. 

It would have been hilarious if Steve wasn’t completely exhausted. If there wasn’t a weird kind of ache starting to build in his chest from Eddie so readily giving him up when he knew what this meant to Steve. 

“I cannot BELIEVE you!” Dustin shouted for about the ten millionth time, throwing his hands up yet again as he glared at Steve, “What is the first rule of the Party? What is it, Steve?!”

“Friends don’t lie,” Steve droned, rubbing at his temple. He had started to get a headache about halfway through the game, and it was turning into a full blown migraine the longer the kids kept screeching at him. 

“Friends don’t lie!” Dustin repeated as Will solemnly shook his head behind him, clearly biting on his lip to hold back a laugh. He and Max both found the whole thing extremely funny going by the glances they kept swapping. 

“Friends don’t lie,” Lucas echoed, tutting and putting his hands on his hips in a perfect imitation of the stance Steve always took with them when they were misbehaving, “So why did you feel it was necessary to lie to us, Steven James Harrington?”

Did this kid seriously just full name him? 

Jesus, he was giving them some bad fucking habits to pick up.  

“It wasn’t a lie-” Steve said, trying once more to explain, but he barely got the start of the sentence out before all of them exploded again, talking all at the same time. 

“Yes it was-”

 “You told us you were ‘shooting hoops’-”

“You kinda did lie, Steve-” 

“This is your own fault-”

“Can we please just kick him out of the Party now?!” 

Mild irritation began to bloom into full on anger as his headache crested over the point of no return. There was a pounding behind Steve’s left eye, an ice pick slowly sliding in and out of the socket. The pain was awful, and Steve wanted to curl up in a ball and just start whining, but he pushed past it, gritting his teeth and setting his jaw. 

Enough was enough. 

Steve gave a short irritated sigh before shaping his thumb and index finger into a U and sticking his fingers in his mouth, pressing down on his tongue and whistling down one excruciatingly loud note. It made his headache so bad that his vision began to blur, but at least all of the kids were quiet, rattled by the sudden shrieking noise. 

Sacrifices, sacrifices. 

“Jesus,” Lucas said, both annoyed and mildly awed. He pinched his own lip and started trying to imitate the motion, seeing if he could recreate Steve’s whistle. 

“Not cool,” Mike pouted, his hands still over his ears. 

“Yeah, you could make a demogorgon go deaf like that,” Dustin added on, Steve reflexively shushing him the second the kid said the word ‘demogorgon’. 

He put his hand over Dustin’s mouth, and all of the kids tensed up, like scared rabbits that had just heard a twig break under the predator’s boot. Steve looked at each of them, hating the way their eyes had widened, hating how scared they were because of the world’s tiniest joke. 

It wasn’t like anyone would know Dustin was talking about an actual demogorgon, but the need for absolute secrecy was pressing. Steve could still feel how his hand cramped while signing the hundreds of NDA’s that had been pushed in his direction, he could still feel the presence of the armed soldiers standing nearby as all of them had been yet again instructed about the importance of maintaining discretion. 

The whole aftermath was almost as terrifying as the actual experience, made worse by the fact that they all now knew what might happen if another person found out about the existence of the Upside Down. 

After all, they had all been forced to lie about how Max found out just to keep Lucas out of federal prison. 

The kid was twelve, and they had threatened to lock him up for thirty years when Max had naively revealed that he told her about what happened last year. They had actually brought the cuffs out and everything until Steve spun some story about Max somehow magically showing up at the junkyard while they were running from the demodogs. 

Lucas hadn’t told her on purpose, he had just explained what they were afterward when Max was freaking out. They had never signed any papers saying they couldn’t talk about the monsters with someone who already knew they existed, so Lucas hadn’t done anything wrong. 

Steve had repeated that story stubbornly over and over, and the kids had followed his direction. He had done what he did best- played dumb. The agents hadn’t really believed Steve, but they had no evidence he was lying, so they had been forced to drop the charges against Lucas before they had ever really been brought up 

It had worked, but Steve didn’t think he was ever going to be able to forget the way the kid had been shaking in his arms the entire time he crafted his tale. Lucas wasn’t the type to get scared like that, but he had been completely terrified that night. They all were, and the ever looming anxiety of someone finding out continued to hang over them. 

Sometimes it felt like it was never going to go away. 

Especially when you considered the fact that they were still being watched. 

All of their phones were still being monitored, and Jonathan had told Steve through passed notes in class that there were still people trailing his car everywhere he went. They were under careful observation every single minute of every single day, and even one little slip would cost everything.

He had no doubt in his mind that the government would make any of his kids disappear if they thought there was even a chance of the truth getting out. 

Steve couldn’t let that happen. He wouldn’t let that happen. 

So he taught them how to hide their secrets, gave the kids specific places they could talk about things when they needed to, and made sure they knew how to shut up everywhere else. 

Nancy and Jonathan could go off all they wanted about justice and making things right. Let them be the ones to risk everything to find the truth. Steve just wanted to keep everyone alive and out of prison. 

Maybe that wasn’t exactly a healthy mindset, but this was survival, and Steve was great at surviving. Besides, it was better overall to make sure that no one else ever got dragged into this hell. 

“Hey, so-” 

A voice spoke up behind Steve, pausing when everyone in the hallway jumped. 

Steve let go of Dustin and flew around, his hand clenching up on nothing as he looked for the bat that he still kept in his trunk. Not here. He didn’t have anything but his fists, and Steve was a shitty fighter when it was just him. 

Whatever, it had to be good enough. Steve stepped forward, making sure all of the kids were behind him before looking up at whoever was threatening them. 

But there was no threat. Just Eddie standing in the doorway, looking at Steve with big worried eyes. 

Steve let out a soft shaking sigh and pinched the bridge of his nose, trying to relieve just a touch of the ache still throbbing against his eyes. One of the kids pressed up against his side silently. Steve could tell which one it was by the height, and the curls brushing against his arm, and he wrapped an arm around Dustin’s shoulders, ruffling the kids hair as he pulled himself back together in a millisecond. 

They needed him to be steady. They needed him to be strong. They needed someone safe, and they didn’t really have anyone but Steve who could be that for them. Nancy and Jonathan were great, but they didn’t really worry so much over the kids who weren’t their actual siblings, and Joyce and Hopper were still trying to sort out everything going on with El. 

That left just Steve, and just Steve needed to do better. The kids deserved better. 

“While it is highly entertaining to listen to you being scolded by kids half your age,” Eddie said, pulling Steve’s focus once more. The boys all groaned at this, clustering around their babysitter as they threw low level glares at Eddie. 

“We’re almost thirteen, dude,” Mike said with a scowl, bumping his shoulder against Steve before leaning into Will’s space like he always did, “And he earned that scolding. As a party member Steve knows we don’t lie to each other.” 

A weird rush of affection washed over Steve and he rolled his eyes, ignoring the way it spiked in his chest. Mike was a lot like a cat. He was prickly, hissed a lot, and had a few special people he favored over everyone else. But, if you took the time, and you gave him the space, and, by some miracle, you gained the patience of an absolute saint, Michael Wheeler could end up being pretty surprising sometimes.  

“We do have to finish the campaign at some point tonight,” Eddie continued as if no one had ever spoken. He gave Steve a gentle look, as if he realized he had stepped into something he probably should have left alone.

“So could you wrap it up soon, Sweetheart?”

Steve’s heart fluttered, but he forced that down. That stupid nickname and the weird feelings that came with it could take a hike. He was still upset with Eddie. 

“Sweetheart?” Max snorted, finally pushing off of the wall she had been leaning against and walking over. She put her chin on Lucas’s shoulder, looking at Steve with a shit eating grin. 

All of the kids were exchanging smirks now, and Steve’s cheeks began to heat up as his stomach dropped. 

Yet another thing that had felt sacred that was no longer hidden, another thing that had felt like it was supposed to belong to just them that Eddie had carelessly given to the rest of the world. It was stupid to get all worked up over a silly nickname that meant nothing, but it was just another reminder that Steve was never going to keep anything in his life intimate ever again. 

Suddenly playing along with the rest of the group felt like a chore, and the joy he had been having from getting to just be a silly kid again was gone. Steve wasn’t the type of person who got to have hidden things anymore, he wasn’t the type of person who got to just be a kid. 

He had kids now, six of them, and they needed someone steady. They needed an adult, not some bullshit artist that wanted to pretend like he could still have a normal life.  

Hell, what if something had happened while he was goofing off with Eddie and the rest? They could have gotten hurt, and if they needed Steve to save them, they wouldn’t have known where to find him. 

His heart was racing again, but not for a good reason. All at once the hallway felt overexposed, the endless rows of empty doors were each a threat, a place where a monster might emerge to swallow them whole. 

This wasn’t a safe place for them, and Steve needed to keep his kids safe.

“Look, Eddie, they’re not gonna shut up about this anytime soon, so I think I just need to take them home,” Steve said, crafting up the perfect reason to want to suddenly bail and take the kids back to his house.

His house was barely any safer than the school. Barb had died there, after all. 

(Steve had killed her there, after all.) 

But at least in his house Steve could carry around his bat and keep all of six of the kids in his eyesight. His brain was already humming as it endlessly counted only five around him, knowing the sixth was waiting patiently on his couch, alone in his unsafe house watching soap operas and whatever movies he had on VHS for her. 

“Are you sure?” Eddie asked, a tiny frown ruining his face, “We could maybe wait until we get back from break?”

“No it’s- it’s fine,” Steve said, thoroughly disappointed and unable to keep it out of his tone. 

He didn’t want to make them wait, because Steve wasn’t even sure he ever wanted to go back to Hellfire after this. He didn’t feel like he belonged there anymore, and he had barely felt like he belonged there in the first place. 

The only reason he had kept trying was Eddie and their budding friendship. The inadvertent betrayal of spilling the one thing that belonged to only Steve had marred that. 

“You guys can keep going without-”

“No!”

The shout from his side dragged Steve out of his morose moment, stopping his words in their tracks.

Will was staring up at him with determination set in every one of his features. Actually all the kids were looking at him with the same thing. Lucas’s hands were back on his hips and even Max seemed like she was prepping for a fight. 

“Steve,” Mike groaned, shaking his head, “You don’t abandon your party halfway through a quest,” 

Steve blinked, trying to wrap his mind around the complete one eighty that had just been pulled. They had just spent the last twenty minutes yelling at him for playing DnD without him…and now they wanted him to play DnD without them? 

He couldn’t make sense of it no matter how hard he tried. 

“Well I wouldn’t be abandoning them if you guys would just stop yelling at me,” Steve finally sputtered out, unable to explain all of the other reasons he didn’t really feel like participating anymore. 

The kids narrowed their eyes before quickly pulling away, walking a short distance down the hallway and putting their heads together in a huddle as they quietly debated with harsh whispers. 

Steve let loose another long breath as they argued with each other, scrubbing his hands over his face and mentally begging God to take away the pain still stabbing behind his eyes. He would give almost anything just for it to stop. 

“Hi,” Eddie whispered, forcing Steve to look up. He had sidled up closer, standing next to Steve now and a little ways away from the door. He was giving him one of those easy smiles, the kind that Steve had started to think were just for him. 

It hurt to see it. It hurt almost as much as his migraine. 

“Hey,” Steve replied shortly, unable to pretend that he was okay just yet. He would get there, but he needed more time to stuff down whatever hurt feelings wanted to rise up every time he saw Eddie. 

Eddie’s face dropped as his shoulders drooped. Steve had never really been all that good at hiding when he was upset, and he knew that Eddie knew he really wasn’t happy with how this had all turned out. 

“Listen, Steve, I-”

Eddie was interrupted as the kids returned, standing in front of Steve with their arms crossed over their chests. He walked away from Eddie and towards the group, glad to not have to cross that particular bridge just yet. 

“Fine. No more yelling, but we’re still really mad at you,” Mike stated, clearly being chosen as the one to lead the discussion. 

They had it wrong though. It wasn’t just mad. If the kids were just mad, then Steve would roll his eyes and move on. They were angry brats who got mad at just about everything. 

No, the real problem was that they were hurt. He could see it in their eyes, and the little frowns on their faces. They didn’t understand why he would play with ‘strangers’ and not with them, and that kind of rejection would hurt coming from anyone. Even Max seemed kind of put out, and that simply wouldn’t do. 

“Okay. Come here, and shut up as I say this once and only once.” Steve said, not exactly crouching down because that would just annoy them, but leaning so he was closer to their height. 

“I’m sorry that I lied to you. I shouldn’t have done that. I just wanted to have one thing that was mine. I love you brats, but you’re nosey as shit-”

“Weird way to apologize,” Will commented lightly, already seeming happier, and Steve chuckled. Will was quite the smart aleck when he finally got comfortable. 

“-and,” Steve emphasized, needing to explain a bit more, “I wanted to figure out if I actually liked this before I got all your expectations up that I was going to start playing with you or something,” 

It was clear he wasn’t a hundred percent forgiven, but they were starting to defrost, warmed up by the thought of getting to play their favorite game with their babysitter instead of just having him watch from the sidelines. 

“So, if you all ever decide to forgive me, I think we should definitely all play together sometime.” Steve concluded, some of his nerves settling as the boys began to exchange eager grins. 

“We accept on a few conditions,” Max said, taking point. She would not be swayed by an offer of game play, and she clearly wanted to get something for herself out of this. 

Damn his kids, they were too smart for their own good. 

“Lay them on me,” Steve said. 

“We get to get McDonalds whenever we want for the next month,” Max shot back. 

“Deal,” Steve agreed easily, mentally calculating how much he was going to have to scrap and save. He had already gotten all of his Christmas shopping done, and his parents had just sent him a check for the holidays since he was fourteen, so money wasn’t going to be a problem. 

“And, we want you to rent whatever movie we want at the video store next time. No questions asked,” Dustin tacked on. 

If it was any other group, Steve might’ve worried that they wanted something really bad, but he knew these guys. They just wanted him to get them some cheap horror flick that they were going to turn off the second it got too scary. There would be some long nights in his future as he stayed up with them through any potential nightmares, but it would be doable. 

“Fine,” Steve sighed, really making a show of acting like this was a big thing to give. If he made it seem like he was already pushing the limit of what he would give them, he might curb any truly outlandish asks that might be coming, “Anything else?”

“We want you to ask if we can watch the campaign?” Lucas asked sheepishly, uncharacteristically shy. The rest of the boys seemed to be pretty embarrassed too, and a smile curled on Steve’s lip. 

No matter how mature they acted, they really were just kids. 

“Well, Game master?” Steve said, turning to face Eddie, unexpected olive branch in hand. 

“Dungeon master,” Dustin groaned behind him, muttering under his breath. Steve shook his head and raised a brow towards Eddie. 

“What do you say, Babydoll?” He asked softly, drinking in the way Eddie sucked in a breath and let out an undignified squeak as his ears turned deep red. 

Babydoll. 

What was Steve thinking? 

It was the most ridiculous pet name Steve could make up on the fly. He had only ever heard someone be called ‘Babydoll’ in chick flicks or movies from the 50s, never something serious. He had figured that two could play at this game, and if Eddie wanted to make Steve squirm, then Steve felt no qualms in making Eddie squirm right back. 

But something about it just felt inexplicably right in his mouth. It came out closer to a pet name then something teasing. The kind of thing Steve would say on a date, or in bed after- 

Nope. Not that thought. Never that thought. A fire burned in Steve’s belly and he resisted the urge to hide his face away.  

“You’ll be the death of me, Steve Harrington,” Eddie said, laughing incredulously as one of his signature feral grins lit up his face, “You really will,” 

“Is that a yes?” Mike asked eagerly, all of the boys practically vibrating where they stood.

“C’mon, newly minted junior members of Hellfire. We have a killer Claus to defeat,” Eddie declared, clapping his hands. 

The boys cheered, rushing into the room. Lucas grabbed Max’s hand to drag her in with them, leaving Steve and Eddie alone outside. When he went to follow, Eddie touched his upper arm, stopping Steve in his tracks. 

“Hey. I’m…sorry,” Eddie forced out, dropping his hand away from Steve and nervously wrapping his fingers in his curls as he continued to murmur, barely audible, “I didn’t want everyone to think that you were trying to hide that you knew us, but I shouldn’t’ve done it that way. I know you wanted this to be just yours.”

The acknowledgement of what had been lost melted whatever icy wall might have been left between them, and Steve nudged their shoulders together, silently accepting the apology. Eddie peeked up at him from behind his hair, and Steve felt his stomach flip. 

Nope. Steve had to take it back, put this whole thing back in his control. 

“I think I miiiiiight just find it in me to forgive you. Depending on if you let Santa brutally murder Ex-Prince Stefan,” Steve said in a teasing tone, relishing the way Eddie’s mood immediately bounced up again. 

“Well let’s go find out, Sweetheart,” Eddie practically crooned. Steve snorted and held his arm out. 

“Lead the way, Babydoll,” He challenged, just to see what Eddie might do. 

Sure enough, the older boy violently blushed again, pushing past Steve as he blustered and stammered and pretended he wasn’t at all affected by the fake flirting. Steve smirked, quickly following after. 

Oh yeah, this was going to be fun. 

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[nininikki]

𝐏𝐑𝐄𝐓𝐓𝐘 𝐖𝐇𝐄𝐍 𝐘𝐎𝐔 𝐂𝐑𝐘: e. jaeger x black fem!reader

(ꕥ) summary! — love had never made you feel this shitty before. (part two can be read here.)

(ꕥ) warnings! — toxic relationships, lots of angst, implications of sex, alcohol consumption, vomiting, reader & eren are in college, (doesn’t play a huge role, but it’s implied) eren is very toxic, reader is also very stuck, i love mikasa, but she’s not very great here haha 😅 (don’t kill me pls)

(ꕥ) author’s note! — first thing i’m publishing on here, lol. wrote it in two days, which i’m sure you can tell. whatever. don’t think too hard. just vibe ok. lmk if i missed anything in the warnings!!

(ꕥ) word count! — 2.7k

love wasn’t exactly the word. at least, it couldn’t have been, right? surely something as pure and innocent and good as love couldn’t have led to an outcome like this.

it couldn’t have led to you taking him back time and time again, doling out infinite chances, and losing a bit of your dignity every time you did.

it wasn’t even supposed to be like this. hell, the two of you weren’t even dating. despite what he’d made you think. what, with the surprise dates, expensive bouquet deliveries, and his ironclad adamance that you didn’t do anything like that with anyone else.

that last part in particular was your selling point. you could vividly recount the times he’d talked you out of going on various dates for reasons you had been stupid enough to believe. maybe you were an idiot for allowing yourself to entertain it, but you’d try not to drive yourself insane dwelling on that possibility.

as you sat at the edge of eren’s bed, naked as the day you were born and fighting back the sobs threatening to rack your body, you couldn’t help but wonder how you’d got caught up in all this shit.

***

you first caught eren’s eye when he attempted to flirt with you outside of a bar one night, to which you tipsily drawled, “do i know you?” and then, as if that weren’t embarrassing enough, you followed it up with, “oh, you’re that douchebag football player!”

even through your inebriation, eren’s face was ultra-recognizable, as it would be to anyone who went to your school and also happened to have eyes.

gemstone colored eyes, skin covered in a delicious tan, long hair curtaining the sculpture that was his head, eren jaeger had an incredibly difficult face to forget about.

being the quarterback of your school’s football team and most sought after man on campus, (or perhaps in the state) it’d be more surprising if he wasn’t a douche.

so, what? not like you’re looking for anything serious, anyway. it could just be a casual thing. at that, the yes bells in your head rang loud, the sound growing more ferocious as you trailed your eyes down the expanse of his body.

for a few moments, you could see why he had so many people drooling like rabid dogs without any effort. he was fucking gorgeous. you took in a breath of fresh air, trying to sober your body and your mind. breathe, breathe, breathe, breathe.

one of your girlfriends had linked your arms together and murmured something like, “i’m sorry about her, she’s wasted.”

“i am perfectly sober.” you groaned, which wasn’t exactly true, but you were closer to sober than wasted.

he chuckled heartily, and you had to stop yourself from getting dizzy in the turquoise oasis of his eyes. or maybe you were a little drunker than you’d thought. whatever.

after a little while, you’d convinced your friends you were okay enough to give him your number, and when you did, a satisfied smile stretched across his face. “i’ll call you.”

“yeah, okay.” you said dryly, despite the fabric of your underwear feeling completely opposite.

***

a day later, and much to your sober surprise, eren had called you, introducing himself as, “that douchebag football player.” you let your face fall into your palm at the blurry memory, trying not to keel over in humiliation before he could even ask you out.

luckily, you remained steady long enough for him to invite you over to smoke later. looking back now, you wanted to slap yourself silly for even considering, and then slap her even harder for saying yes.

***

your bi-weekly smoke sessions turned weekly, and then almost daily. but by then, he wasn’t even coming over to smoke anymore. “i don’t wanna get high with you all the time. what if i just wanna enjoy you while we’re sober?” eren had claimed as the two of you lay intertwined on his couch. you could remember the distinct feeling of your heart melting out of your chest and pooling around your feet.

then, he was coming over to your dorm with takeout bags shelved along his arms. and then texting you at random, telling you to be ready at a certain time, because he was taking you out to dinner.

and you certainly couldn’t forget the night all the pent up sexual tension and feral attraction shared between the two of you came to a screeching head. you both were high off your asses, and one thing had led to a-motherfucking-nother. next thing you knew, your back was pushed into a pretty arch as he drilled into that special spot inside of you. drool pooling at the corners of your lips, cheeks glossed over with tears, throat red and raw from the guttural moans pouring out of it.

four rounds later, when your limbs were jelly and you’d been rendered too tired to do much more, eren pulled you into his lap and played with your hair until you fell asleep. it was in that moment that you knew you were falling head over heels for him. although, he hadn’t given you much of a choice, had he?

***

then, it happened. you should’ve known something was up when he said he was headed to a party later that night, but didn’t invite you, which was something he’d always done. “you don’t really know anybody that’s gon’ be there. and i’m only goin’ for a little bit. no point in even bringing you with me.”

you simply nodded in agreement, him having thoroughly convinced you. and it wasn’t like you had any reason to think he was lying. eren never lied to you.

or at least that’s what you’d thought.

not twenty minutes after eren left, your phone had pinged with a message from one of your girlfriends.

party tonight & yes tf u are going. i’ll be outside in 10!!

you’d arrived at the party, shocked to see that there wasn’t an unfamiliar face in the throngs of people you shuffled through. bile had risen in your throat, but you chased it down with whatever was in the solo cup your friend handed you.

for a moment, you were having fun. your limbs falling into a relaxed, dancing rhythm, loud music coursing through your veins as though it were the alcohol you drank.

“oh, shit.” you heard your friend say from beside you, and the terror in her voice was enough to get you to pay attention.

anxiously, you followed the line of her gaze to a semi-vacant spot across the room. a spot where eren had another girl perched upon his lap, blowing smoke into her mouth before he attacked her already kiss-bitten lips with his.

you wanted so desperately to press your eyes shut, but the sight before you would surely live behind your eyelids for the rest of your life. so really, what was the point?

they broke away from the kiss, and you could’ve swore you tasted vomit at the sight of a thin string of saliva connecting their lips. after what felt like hours, eren’s eyes met with yours from across the room. before he could get the chance to even register you as some sort of hallucination, you bolted.

***

as soon as you’d locked the door behind you, you collapsed on your dorm floor. clothes and hair wet and chilled from the rain pouring outside, you’d nearly bit off your own tongue with all the shivers that racked you.

the sobs taking over your body were breathtaking, literally. you’d caught yourself trying to catch your breath through the tears more than a few times. at a certain point, they’d gotten so loud that you had to shove your face into a pillow to muffle the sounds.

an hour or so later, you’d decided to check your phone, only to instantly regret it once you saw the flurry of messages and calls from eren.

with each message you read, his vice grip on your heart only grew firmer. baby wya? we need to talk. if it weren’t for the ragged breaths running through your agape lips, you’d be sure you had already died of some type of shock.

i don’t want u goin to sleep mad at me baby. you wished you could squeeze the phone into pulp like an empty soda can. but your hands were weak, heavy, numb, as though they had been filled with wet packing peanuts. idk what you saw but it’s not what it looks like.

tears blurred your vision as you continued reading. pleas of, will you at least call me? and (likely empty) promises of, it’s not what it looks like and i just need to explain myself. this, coupled with twenty missed calls from him, had barbed wire wrapping around your heart, squeezing and squeezing until you were sure you could feel it explode inside your chest.

bile rose in your throat again, but you didn’t have it in you to hold it back this time. instead, you ran for your bathroom and emptied the contents of your stomach into the toilet as another wave of sobs came over your body

when you were done, you hardly recognized the person staring back at you in the mirror. the brown skin around your eyes was puffy and damp, your face mask-tight with tears, your lips wobbling pathetically. you felt the urge to throw up again.

***

“i don’t even know why you’re upset.” eren had attempted to console you. “mikasa, she’s…” your skeleton nearly folded in on itself as he said her name with the same cadence he usually did yours. “she’s nothing. she’s not y—”

“you had your tongue in her mouth.” you interjected, and you didn’t need to say anything else. hell, you could hardly bring yourself to say that.

“hey,” he said, reaching over the middle console to grab you gently by the chin. the look in his eyes held nothing but sorrow, sorrow that toed the line of pity, and pity that toed the line of condescension. “stop thinking about it, okay? we can’t work past this if you keep dwelling on the shit.”

his touch put your entire body on edge, a stark contrast to the usual. you plucked his hand off you as you held back a sniffle. “well, what the fuck else am i supposed to do?” a rogue tear fell from your eye. “i’m…” your fingernails dug into the skin of your thighs. “i’m fucking hurt, eren.”

at his next sentence, you were overcome with the urge to scream until the lump dissolved from your throat. “it’s not like i cheated or anything.” you didn’t know what made it worse: the nonchalant attitude with which he said it, or the way he kissed his teeth before what he said next. “oh, c’mon. i thought you knew we were only fucking around.”

your masochism reared its ugly head as you asked, “what?” despite already hearing him loud and clear the first time.

“listen, y/n, i like you, b—”

“but not enough to…” make me your girlfriend. the words were there, but you physically couldn’t say them. “right.”

he didn’t answer, and really, he didn’t get a chance to. you were shoving his car door open and storming out of it.

for the next four days, he’d mailed surprise gifts to your dorm, all sent with enough various apologies and i miss you’s to make your tooth ache.

you’d forgiven him a week later.

***

and then another time, more recently, he’d given you an earful for making out with connie at some party. but how could he blame you? you were drunk and still hurting from all that happened before. and besides, it wasn’t like the two of you were dating or anything. at least, that’s what you had told him.

this led to a screaming match between the two of you as eren sped down the slick road. the veins in his neck threatening to break free from beneath his skin, knuckles growing paler and paler as he tightened his grip on the steering wheel. “what, you thought that shit was cute? connie’s one of my best friends, and you thought you could just kiss him in front of me?”

“i didn’t think i could, eren. i did. and if connie was really your best friend, he wouldn’t have let me.” you saw his eyes go fuzzy with white-hot fury, and could’ve laughed maniacally in satisfaction at the sight.

for a few brief, sick moments, you’d thought to yourself, good, you deserve this. but you squashed that feeling before it could turn into something worse. “you did the same thing to me, so just get over it.”

he came to a red light and took a moment to card his shaky hands through his hair. “it’s not the s—”

“not the same?” you scoffed in his direction, unbuckling your seatbelt and shoving his car door open. your dorm wasn’t too far away to walk. “yeah, whatever. just drop me off here.”

***

thus began the vicious cycle that you and him were all too familiar with. perfect, bad, worse, i’m sorry, perfect.

as of right now, you were in the middle of bad, which was awful considering you weren’t sure how things could get worse from here.

still naked from a round or two (or three) of earth-shattering sex, you’d heard eren’s phone ping with a message. figuring your orgasm-fried mush for a brain was playing tricks on you, you ignored it. until it pinged again. and again. and again.

eren usually slept like the dead, and you knew his password. what would be the harm in looking? you’d fought with yourself on it for a good five minutes before deciding.

you stretched your arm out over his slumbering body and plucked the thing off his nightstand. he twitched slightly, and terror struck your heart for a brief moment, but he’d only turned over on his stomach and wrapped his arms around your pliant waist.

warmth chased the terror away, and you considered not even checking the damn thing. until it pinged again.

you extended your arm out above your head, the safest way to hold it that wouldn’t risk disturbing him, even if you risked dropping it onto your face.

after unlocking it, your eyes had to trail over the notifications three or four times to be sure you hadn’t hallucinated. five messages from mikasa. that alone had your heart running in circles, but the actual messages proved to be undeniably worse.

r u done w her yet? i miss you. can you come over? or i can come over there? just call me when u can.

suddenly, eren’s arms began to grow tighter and tighter. squeezing you until your ribs cracked under the pressure, until your lungs collapsed from lack of airflow. or maybe that’s just how you had felt.

much to your ever growing horror, they had been texting for weeks. late night talks, plans of meeting up, exchanges of photos you’d much prefer to forget you saw. you name it, it was there.

silently, you put the phone back on the nightstand and tried to get yourself to fall asleep.

***

you hadn’t slept a wink, and now here you were: slugging your clothes over your body as the sun began peeking over the horizon. eren was still asleep, and you had managed to peel yourself out from under him just enough to make your leave.

your leave.

the words, the concept even, left a bittersweet taste simmering on your tongue. you were gonna leave him alone, and for good this time. because you were amazing and special and deserved ten times better than him, or that’s what you spent the majority of your sleepless night trying to convince yourself of.

your eyes, swollen and red, were begging to flutter shut, but you just… couldn’t. because you knew what vision would be sitting behind your eyelids the moment you did, and that prospect terrified you enough.

when you left his room, you didn’t dare look back at his sleeping form. not because you didn’t want to, but because you just couldn’t. couldn’t because of how weak he had made you; so weak that he didn’t even have to be awake to convince you to come back to him.

you stepped through his front door as though it were a portal to another world. another freer, happier, healthier world. the nippy morning air provided a temporary solace to your shaken figure. you took a deep gust in, hoping to give yourself a brief illusion of stability. breathe, breathe, breathe, breathe.

© NININIKKI. do not translate, copy, or modify my works in any way shape or form.

[slut4thebroken]

Earn Your Prize

── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ──

Pairing | Reader x choose your own character

(Reader doesnt call him anything and there’s nothing in the writing to indicate that it’s one character or another except maybe the pet names used, so pick whoever you want and enjoy<3 (this is who I was picturing but you can literally choose anyone with a dick lol: Jackson Rippner, Jonathan Crane, Thomas Shelby, Jason Todd, Dick Grayson, Bucky Barnes, etc.))

Summary | Character of your choice wants to try something new.

Warnings | 18+, sexual content, smut, 69 sex position, oral m receiving, praise, humiliation, face fucking, deep throating, throat pie lolll, held down hehe, filthy disgusting nasty oral sex, that’s literally it, no f orgasm, but not in a douchey way lol I just didn’t feel like writing it.

Words | 1.3 k

Notes | Idk man I’m going through a phase, don’t judge me. Also I wrote this in one day lol so I might edit it again later but for now I think I like it skdhdk

Ao3 link | <3

Masterlist

“Let’s play a game, princess. Get up here.” He moved you on top of his body so that your front was flush with his and your face was hovering above his already throbbing cock. “You’re going to stay on my cock, no matter what. Feel free to hold yourself up so it doesn’t go too deep.” He explained and you were confused as to how this was a game, but agreed anyway. “On your knees.” You frowned when you realized that meant he wouldn’t be eating you out. Instead of complaining, you obeyed and bent your legs so you were kneeling with your shoulders resting on his lower stomach. 

“Put it in your mouth and get ready.” You wrapped your lips around the tip and waited for the next instruction. “Hands behind your back.” You obeyed, but the second you weren’t holding yourself up, you were all but impaled on his cock, making him moan loudly. When you tried to move your arms back to hold yourself up, he grabbed them and kept them on your back. 

“Hold yourself up and you won’t choke.” 

No shit. You wanted to say. Instead you did your best to lift your head a little, letting you get in a shaky breath of much needed air. You couldn’t hold the position for long though and you fell back down, gagging when he breached your throat barrier. 

“Atta girl. If you can’t take it, all you have to do is hold yourself up.” You let out a strangled whine and tried to hold yourself up again, but you barely managed to lift off his cock more than an inch, and you didn’t last long either. The strain in your muscles was too much and you whimpered as you fell back down. 

When you started squirming and moving your legs to try and get in a position that would make this easier, he took both of your arms in one hand, then used the other to roughly slap your ass, making you jolt forward and choke when his cock went impossibly deeper in your throat. 

“No cheating.” He said sternly. You could barely hear him over your loud choking and gagging. Tears were quickly welling in your eyes as you remained there. 

You gagged the hardest you had so far and your body all but convulsed as you sputtered around him, making all the saliva that built up in your mouth roll down his balls onto the bed. It was getting on your chin and your nose and you felt completely and utterly filthy, but you couldn’t help the way it made you squirm, this time because of arousal. 

You were fully crying now, but you managed to control the gagging as you tried to take deep breaths through your nose. This is the longest he’s ever had you stay like this and you’re not sure how much more you can take, but you want to be good for him, so you kept trying. 

He used his grip on your arms to pull you up a little, lifting you off his cock barely two inches to let you take in a deep breath and have a break from the constant pressure on your gag reflex. 

“That better?” He asked with mock sympathy, but you hummed in agreement anyway. He suddenly bucked his hips up, making you gag loudly and try to flinch away, but you couldn’t move anywhere. He started fucking your mouth roughly and you weren’t sure what was worse; this or being forced to stay all the way down. 

“God— You’re fucking dripping on my chest.” He said through a groan, making you whine, but the sound cut off into a garbled moan when his cock punched the back of your mouth again. 

“Should I eat your pretty pussy?” You tried to agree, but the words were unintelligible with his cock in your mouth. “Win the game and I’ll let you ride my face— Earn your prize, baby.” He decided and you couldn’t help the loud, strangled moan that escaped you, but you still wondered how you were even supposed to win. Maybe he’s wanting you to stay here until he comes? You hoped it was that because based off of his sounds and the frantic bucking of his hips, you knew he was getting close already. 

He suddenly stopped holding you up and you fell forward onto his cock, choking because you weren’t expecting to be dropped like that. You coughed and sputtered and whimpered, growing even more embarrassed and needy when you saw how much of a mess you were making. He started lazily rutting up into your face, slowly bringing himself to the edge and moaning at your struggling. 

“Such a good girl.” He cooed. “Does your cunt always get this wet when I fuck your face?” His tone was far too sweet for the crudeness of his words. All you could do was let out a garbled sound and squirm a little, wishing he’d stop teasing already. “Fuck I’m close.” He said through a breath. You braced yourself for what was about to happen— trying to remember that after this, you could pull off and cough and pant as much as you needed. 

His motions got more eager, rutting up into you as you choked each time his cock was forced even deeper down your throat. He let out a loud moan and you felt hot come hit the back of your throat. When you gagged and tried to pull away, he wrapped a leg over your head and pushed you down even farther as he shushed you. 

“I know. Doing so good, baby.” He groaned, but you could barely hear it. You were thrashing now, your body panicking at the lack of air and the constant pressure on your gag reflex as his cock twitched inside you. All he did was tighten his grip on your arms and push your head down harder with his leg, forcing you to stay there as he rode out his orgasm. 

He released your arms first and you immediately brought them forward to push yourself up, but your head was still trapped by his leg. You clawed at it, trying to get him to remove it so you could finally breathe again, and after a moment, he slowly lessened the pressure, then placed his leg on the bed. You shot up and coughed almost violently, whining when you saw the large glob of spit connecting your lips to his cock. You tried to spit it out, but it slid down your chin before landing on his cock and sliding down his balls to join the rest of the mess. 

He rubbed soothing circles on your hips while you caught your breath and calmed down. When your breathing finally returned to a somewhat normal intensity, you sat up a little more, waiting for what was next. 

“Clean your mess.” 

“But,” You cut off with a choked moan when he landed a hard slap on your ass. Tentatively leaning down, you licked at it, trying to clean it. Honestly you thought you were only making the mess worse, but you knew that this wasn’t really about you cleaning him. 

“All of it.” You whined, but worked your way down to his balls, lapping up the spit as best you could. “You can do better than that.” He said, sounding almost annoyed, then wrapped his leg around your head again and pushed your face into his cock and balls, covering you in spit. “I said, clean it.” He growled when you didn’t do anything. You stuck your tongue out, but it’s not like you could lick anything with how hard he was holding you down. When he started grinding his hips, rubbing his spit soaked cock on your face, you whined quietly as your whole face heated up from the humiliation. 

“There you go.” He groaned, grinding against you even harder. He only continued for a few more seconds before releasing you and you let out a strangled whimper as soon as your head was free. He shushed you and lightly ran his thumb over your slit. “Such a good girl.” He said quietly, pulling your hips back so you were hovering over his face. 

“Take your prize now, baby.”

[makeyoumine69]

Call Me Babydoll 4

PAIRING: DBF!Patrick Bateman x Innocent!Fem!Reader

SUMMARY: Anything that seems too good to be true probably isn't. After a dinner with Patrick that didn't go well, you realized that your relationship with him is more complicated than you initially thought.

CONTAINS: Angst, mentions of food, cursing and use of pet names (babydoll), smoking, gaslighting & manipulation, humiliation & mild bulling.

WORDS: 4.1k

A/N: This chapter is a bit long, but I hope you enjoy it!💕

LINKS: [Ch.3]; [SERIES MASTERLIST]; [MASTERLIST]

God, you couldn't imagine a worse situation than this — being stuck in the limo with Patrick Bateman after he discovered your little secret about your virginity. Panicking from the lack of oxygen, you looked down at his deadly grip on your wrist, your brain overloaded with thoughts of a possible escape route.

"Patrick, I should go," you tried to release his grip when you noticed that the car had stopped, but he kept holding you tight. "My Dad is waiting for me!"

"Your father can wait a little longer," he demanded, pulling you a little closer, forcing you to raise your shy eyes to him. "Tomorrow we'll have dinner and talk about...this whole thing."

From the raspy sound of his voice, it was obvious that Bateman was doing his best to save what was left of his self-control, his skin burning yours with its heat.

"And what if I say 'no'?" You snapped at his cheeky way of speaking.

With a soft chuckle, he let go of your wrist and grinned as he saw you rubbing the spot where he was holding you a moment ago. "You don't want to upset your Dad, do you?" When Patrick met your confused gaze, the corners of his lips turned up. "I mean, the last thing you want is for your dear father to find out about all the nasty things you did…with me."

Your nostrils flared with anger, but you tried to play it cool. "What? Are you really trying to blackmail me?"

"No," Bateman grinned at your irritated stare. "Just a little reminder not to try to play games with me. It's pointless anyway."

Uh yeah, sure. We'll see who laughs last. 

Saying nothing in return, you looked at him one last time before opening the car door and getting out.

"I'll pick you up at six. Wear something nice...something that hides your tattoos." Patrick ordered through the half-open window, the wide, smug smile never leaving his face.

The urge to turn around and show him your middle finger was so damn high, but as you faced the facade of your house, the memories of your father occupied your mind and stopped you at the very last moment.

"I don't have any of those clothes you're talking about," you simply replied, spinning around and crossing your hands over your chest. "Because I—"

"That's not a problem, babydoll. We can buy you some fabulous dresses or skirts," his brown eyes traveled over your body like a scanner, making you feel completely naked, you even shrugged off the shiver. "By the way, does your father forbid you to wear skirts or dresses because he knows someone would kidnap you? You have such pretty legs."

You closed your eyes and counted to ten to calm yourself. "I love my jeans, and pants are just much more comfortable for me!" Your voice trembled with embarrassment and anger. "If all the girls around you look like sluts in their skimpy dresses, that doesn't mean I have to! Jesus, why am I even trying to justify myself?!"

Your little tantrum only made him chuckle in pure satisfaction. "I have no idea why, but I like it," his arrogant smirk made you sick. After checking his Rolex nonchalantly, Bateman added, "See you tomorrow, (y/n). And tell your father that my old man has approved those investments we talked about a week ago."

Wait, what?

Now it was your turn to try to stop him, but just as the last word fell from his lips, the limo pulled away, leaving you with an unspoken question stuck in your throat like a lump.

The air of your house greeted you with a sharp smell of smoke, signaling that your father was home and not in a good mood — he had taken up smoking since your mother died, and now you knew pretty well that when he was feeling down only a cigarette could bring him some relief.

Walking slowly through the halls of your not-so-luxurious but spacious house, you found your Dad sitting in the living room with a glass of his favorite whiskey and a pack of cigarettes that he twirled nervously in his hand.

"Hey, Dad," you called out quietly, halting in the doorway — the strange pangs of guilty causing your heart to pound painfully against your chest. "Are you okay?"

"Oh, I didn't hear you coming," he turned to you, his wrinkled face lighting up the moment he saw your apprehensive expression. "I'm fine...just had a busy day," he put the cigarette in the ashtray and got up from his comfortable armchair. "How did you make it home?"

His sudden question caught you off guard, as your father didn't usually ask such things. Frowning, you stepped into the living room and looked at his tired face — he seemed to have aged even faster in the last few months, when his business had stopped being as profitable as it used to be.

"I'm fine, thanks," you carefully took a seat on the couch next to him, noticing that the bottle of whiskey on the coffee table was half empty. "Dad, can I ask you something?"

"Of course, my dear," your father smiled at you and poured himself another glass of alcohol before sitting back down in his armchair. "What is it?"

"Did you really ask Pat—" you stammered and coughed a little. "I mean, did you really ask Mr. Bateman to pick me up after work?"

Right after you asked, you tried to catch a glimpse of your father's reaction, to notice any strange expressions or anything that might discredit him, but to your surprise, your father just gave you a sympathetic grin, sipping his drink and looking at you adoringly.

"Maybe I did..." he tilted his head thoughtfully. "...or maybe I didn't. Forgive me for my bad memory, it gets worse every day."

Sighing, you couldn't help but smile at his words, as your father was always the one who could warm your heart just by saying a few simple words.

"All right, all right," you paused, rubbing your tense temples. "He asked me to inform you that the investments you discussed some time ago have been approved and..." as you noticed your father's face changing so quickly, you had to pause for a second. "...is it something important?"

Your father took a quick drag on a cigarette, blowing a few rings of smoke to the side to keep them away from you. "Did he really say that?"

"Yes," you fidgeted nervously in your seat, seeing your Dad's reaction. "Yes, he did."

"That's...that's one of the best pieces of news I've had in a long time," your father stood up again, looking for something. "I need to make a call..."

Nodding, you decided that now was not the best time to ask more questions, so you just decided to leave and go to your room, but as soon as you strolled away, you heard your father's enthusiastic voice again: 

"(Y/n), wait," he stopped beside you, holding a phone in his slightly shaking hand. "I know I've always been too strict when it comes to you, but I've always tried to give you as much love and care as I could...since your mother..." His words cut right through your heart, and you even had to grit your teeth from the itchy tears that welled up in your eyes.

"Father, please...let's not talk about it." You interrupted him, not wanting to open up your old wounds.

"Uh, I'm sorry. I just wanted to tell you that...Patrick Bateman seems like a good man," you almost lost your sense of orientation in this room at his sudden statement. "I haven't allowed you to hang out with boys much, but you can get to know him better since he's been asking about you a lot."

Fuck, you couldn’t believe it. 

First, Bateman had his eyes on you. Then he tried to seduce you, break you and make you forget your morals, and he fucking succeeded, because in the end Patrick managed to get his hands on you, and now his farther suddenly approved the budget for your Dad's business. Was this just a coincidence or another way to manipulate you?

"Well, you tried to protect me from...everything and everyone, I can't judge you..." you murmured as you reached the door. "You always want the best for me, so... I promise I'll think about it."

With that, you closed the door behind you, leaving your father alone in the living room. A wild cocktail of emotions swirled in your chest, as if you had drunk something extremely hot — you wanted to laugh, to cry, to scream. How on Earth did that happen? That your own father was directly encouraging you to get close with Patrick Bateman? Was that someone's bad joke?

As soon as you got to your room, you opened the closet, looking for some "fabulous" dress Patrick wanted you to wear. 

"Fucking narcissistic idiot," you cursed aloud as you flipped through your clothes, getting more and more annoyed by the second. "Why do I even care what he thinks about my appearance?"

You exhaled tiredly and hid your face in your hands, feeling the strong shudder in every inch of your fragile frame. This man, damn it, this man was a devil himself, and your father just called him 'a good guy'.

Unbelievable. 

"All right, I have to pull myself together." You moved quickly to the mirror, breathing steadily and rubbing your cheeks. "I'll do it for Dad, I'll figure it all out."

Winking at your reflection, you returned to your search for a suitable dress, not realizing that it was getting late.

The next day started with a heavy rain which woke you up with its sound, so loud that you couldn't fall asleep again. So, you decided to get up earlier and write a bit before your work. 

Your father was already gone when you got downstairs — the memories of your earlier conversation were still running through your mind, leaving a bitter aftertaste. As you made yourself a cup of coffee with your favorite organic milk, you couldn't stop thinking about what might happen tonight — the unknown made you feel a little nauseous, but the breathing exercises your mother taught you always helped you in such moments. Uh, what would your mom say to you if she were here, if she knew the situation you were in? 

Would Patrick be able to enchant her so easily?

The workday went by so quickly that you didn't even realize you were rushing back home in the taxi. During the ride, you tried to distract yourself with your poems, some of which you had written during the break at the café where you had been with Patrick the day before. After many attempts, you noticed that whenever you tried to describe the feelings Patrick evoked in you, it seemed as if your mind was losing touch with reality. The pen he gifted you was burning your skin as if it were some cursed relic, but yet this phantom pain was something you probably missed in your life, it didn't feel like grief or sorrow — it was something completely new.

Even though you were not a huge fan of Manhattan, you couldn't deny the fact that it looked absolutely breathtaking at night, with all its lights, mesmerizing atmosphere, and soaring skyscrapers that made your head spin whenever you looked at them.

There was no doubt that the restaurant Bateman was taking you to would be exquisite and luxurious, so when you entered the establishment, you were not surprised that most people were paying attention to your persona, as you had no jewels, no beaded clutch — just your modest but tight black dress, which was one of your shortest. The maître d' escorted you to your table, and from that moment on, the game began between you and Mr. Bateman, although your conversation didn't flow at first.

"So, do you like this place?" Patrick asked a little indifferently after swirling his drink — J&B Whiskey, that seemed to be his favorite.

"Mmm, yeah, it's pretty good." You replied, avoiding his gaze and staring at the napkin on the table that you were nervously crumpling.

Bateman couldn't help but chuckle, shaking his head in disbelief. "Pretty good?"

"What's wrong with it?"

"Uh," he sighed, rubbing the bridge of his nose briefly. "Do you even know what this place is?"

Finally, you left a poor napkin alone and looked up at him. "This is Dorsia, right? I saw a sign outside."

For a moment his face remained blank, but the next moment a deep, prominent line appeared between his knitted brows.

"Yeah, this is fucking Dorsia," he spat out his words and took a sip of his whiskey. "Nothing special."

Actually, his suddenly confronting tone was embarrassing. "Well...I'm not a frequent guest in these chic restaurants. Come on, you know that."

Unfortunately for you, your voice sounded more sad than irritated, and Bateman didn't miss it. His warm palm touched yours gently, but he didn't dare to look at you.

"Huh," he mused, drawing an invisible line across the back of your hand with his soft fingertip. "It's pretty hard to impress a girl like you, since you just don't understand—"

"The taste of luxurious life?" You cut him off, causing him to raise his brown walnut eyes to your face. They looked so mysterious in the dim light of the restaurant hall. 

Patrick pulled his hand away as if struck by the electric shock, clenching his jaw in tension, and this sight was something you never thought you would have to witness.

In a few minutes of awkward silence, the waiter brought your food, and since you refused to take any alcohol, you asked him to give you a dessert menu — maybe something sweet would cheer you up and help you get through this strange dinner that was hard to identify as a date or whatever it might be.

"We have amazing cheesecakes, good choice." The waiter replied as you handed the menu back to him.

"Thank you," you made yourself comfortable in your seat and gave Patrick a warm smile, which left him a bit confused. "I need something to compare with the desserts I've had in my favorite café."

Although you hadn't intended it to be a joke, you weren't irritated at all when you heard his soft chuckle for the first time during dinner. "Just don't tell anyone about this," he crossed his arms and looked at you with a mischievous grin. "I don't want the local chefs to end their lives."

"Oh, God," you laughed, looking at his drink. "Why do you all have to drink whiskey? My Dad can't work without a bottle of his favorite drink next to him," as soon as Bateman heard about your Dad, he straightened up in his seat and fixed his Rolex. "Speaking of him...can I ask you a question?"

"You can try, babydoll." Bateman sneered in a mischievous voice and looked around quickly as if he noticed someone familiar.

"I want to know about the investments—"

"Hey, Halberstram!" An unknown male voice echoed from behind you, shamelessly interrupting your conversation. "Haven't seen you for a while, how have you been?"

A handsome man with light brown hair — wearing a stylish suit that was one hundred percent overpriced — came closer to your table and offered Patrick a handshake, which he accepted, but you couldn't help but notice a glint of anger in his hazel eyes.

"Allen," Bateman shook his hand and then quickly glanced at a woman next to him. "I didn't expect to see you here, I heard you were on vacation in Paris."

"Well, Meredith didn't really like it, so we decided to come back a little earlier," Paul replied, pulling a beautiful blonde girl closer to him. "I thought Halloween was over." Allen chuckled and pointed at you, making you palpably uncomfortable. "Nice manicure, so gothic."

Frowning, you checked your black manicured nails and then looked up at him, suppressing your inner battle to tell him to fuck off. "Thanks." You replied coldly and noticed Patrick clenching his fists in tension.

"And where's Veronica, Marcus? That big-titted chick you were hanging out with at the last yacht party?" Allen asked, continuing to stare at you with undisguised interest. 

What the hell was going on? Why did he call him Marcus?

"Veronica?" Bateman interjected, pretending to try to remember. "She's probably with her family in South Hampton."

"Oh, and who is this punk girl?" Paul's question made your nails claw at the soft skin of your knee. 

Patrick closed his eyes for a second, definitely trying to find the best answer. It was obvious that a man like him didn't want to ruin his reputation, since you were not a person from his circle. This seemed to be a dead end until an unexpected idea came to your mind.

"I'm a journalist," you explained in a confident voice. "And I'm interviewing...Mr. Halberstram because I'm writing a book about Wall Street."

"Wow," Paul seemed to be surprised. "That's...pretty impressive."

"Yeah," Bateman cleared his throat and unclenched his fists. "She's one of the best journalists in New York, and she wants to write a book, too."

Oh my God, please shut up!

"It's pretty impressive that you were allowed to come here," Meredith suddenly blurted out, giving you a disgusted look. "There's a dress code, you know?"

"I'll leave you for a while, since you have things to discuss." You fumed and got up from the table — Patrick didn't even try to stop you.

In a few minutes, you found your way to the outdoor terrace on the upper level. As you stepped in, you noticed another blonde woman — she looked gorgeous, with her elegant, red-manicured fingers wrapped around the burning cigarette.

"Um, excuse me," you approached her from behind. "Could you pass me a cigarette, please?"

As soon as she turned around, you could see her sad blue eyes, cold as ice. "Sure."

Carefully, she reached into her black clutch to find a pack of cigarettes and offered you one.

"Thank you." You smiled after she lit your cigarette. 

"No problem," she grinned back, looking away to see the lights of New York city. "It's so beautiful here, isn't it? I wish he could be with me right now."

Her question left you speechless, because you didn't know how to react, but just as you were about to say something, you heard the door open and the unknown man with the red hair joined you on the terrace.

"Courtney, you're here. I was looking for you," he chirped with an affectionate intonation. "The cocktails are ready."

Unlike the guy, the woman — that apparently was named Courtney — didn't seem happy, you would even say she was getting sadder — her previous words puzzled you, because now it was obvious she was talking about someone else.

With the last puff of smoke, Courtney took a quick glance at the night city and turned to you. "Take care."

Even a few moments after they left, you could still feel the wisp of sharp sadness in the air. Shivering with cold, you came closer to the railing, looked down and smoked, the signals of passing cars distracting you a bit from your train of thought — that fucking snobbish bitch and her supposed boyfriend pissed you off completely and you didn't really want to come back. Her behavior reminded you of why you hated yuppies, Wall Street, money, luxury. You hated it all, while your father tried his best to give you such a life so you could turn into a heartless ghost with no emotions except greed and...disgust?

A sudden touch of soft, warm fabric made you almost flinch. "Are you trying to catch a cold?" A familiar voice asked, and a jacket was wrapped around your trembling shoulders.

No way that could be him. "Patrick?"

The next moment, the owner of the familiar voice — which was indeed Patrick — deftly snatched the cigarette out of your mouth, eliciting an irritated groan from your chest. "You don't need this, believe me."

As you turned around, you watched him puff on your cigarette, but when he blew out a few rings, his face cringed in disgust. "Jesus, this is some girlish shit." Patrick ranted and quickly put out the cigarette.

"What are you doing here?" You crossed your arms in a defensive gesture and stepped away from him.

Patrick chuckled softly, your eyes accidentally glancing around his broad chest and the fashionable suspenders that looked so good on him.

"You could have just told me that you wanted to suffer alone on the terrace like a crybaby. Then I wouldn't have had to look for you all over the fucking restaurant." His voice became slightly stern as a sign of the high level of irritation — his patience seemed about to snap.

"I didn't ask you to come after me," you retorted, but didn't take off his jacket because it was so warm and nice. "Besides, what the hell was that? Why did that guy call you Marcus? Is that your real name? God, maybe you're a fucking scammer trying to deceive my father?"

His loud laugh echoed in the fresh air, Bateman couldn't help but applaud because your theory was fantastic. "That...that was hilarious, babydoll," he theatrically wiped away a few tears and came closer. "We stopped at your question about your father, as I recall."

"You know what?" you suddenly charged at him, almost bumping into his solid torso. "You should have hired several hookers instead of taking me to this useless dinner. At least it would have been a lot cheaper!"

"What?" He asked, still giggling as if you had told him another joke.

"My father has been waiting almost a year for some extra funding," you started, shortening the distance between you to a mere inches. "And just like in fairy tales, the necessary investments were approved as soon as you got your hands on me. What a great coincidence, don't you think?"

Patrick hummed to himself, hiding his hands in the pockets of his pants. "Go on."

"You won't get it," your voice wavered, as if your nature refused to utter the words. "I know that rich guys like you can buy anything and everything — houses, cars, yachts, corporations, girls..." the more you spoke, the darker Bateman's eyes became. "Girls of all body types, ages, virgins or not, and so on. But for me — money is nothing, and I won't do it even for my father".

"You're done?" Patrick asked, pressing a finger to his lips and looking at you with an unreadable expression. When you nodded, he took you by the chin and tilted your head to the side, his thumb brushing against your lower lip as if by accident. "Now, listen to me, babydoll. I invited you to dinner because I wanted to apologize...for the things that happened between us..." your heart skipped a beat at his last words and your legs went weak, but you stood still, looking straight into his dark hypnotizing eyes. "I must say, you're a really cute, sweet girl, pretty even," he smirked as you shivered from his finger sliding down your neck. "But I don't want to be a babysitter."

"W-what?" You gasped, your voice barely audible as your breath hitched from the hard lump in your throat.

"(Y/n), listen, your father's business can be profitable enough, that's the only reason my Dad and I decided to finance it," Bateman removed his hand and stepped aside. "The long wait was caused by bureaucratic processes and my old man being away on business all the time."

There were no words to explain the feelings you were experiencing — frustration, deception, embarrassment? 

"I…I understand," you bit your lower lip to keep the tears from forming in your dejected eyes. "Thank you for telling me the truth." 

Just as you were about to take off his jacket, Patrick stopped you and after a small hug, he added: "Unfortunately, I don't like messing around with little girls because I'm pretty demanding when it comes to sex.” His arrogant grin was about to become the last straw of your self-control, but you kept fighting. "Let's go back to our table, your dessert must be waiting for you."

With a quick flick of your hand, you wiped away any traces of your tears when he didn't look at you. "I'm not hungry. Go, I'll join you soon."

Bateman gave you a worried look, then glanced at the railing and shook his head. "No, we'll come together, I'm responsible for you tonight and I don't want your father to be nervous."

How fucking cute.

P.S. Thank you for reading until the end! I don’t have a taglist. You can follow my side blog @makeyoumineagain and turn on notifications to know when I update!

[sunpopz]

free falling pt.2

pairing: haechan x afab!reader word count: 7.6k contains: gamer au, smut, perv!hyuck, sub!hyuck, humiliation kink, degredation, solo masturbaiting (m), overstimulation, handjobs, hyuck is rlly wrong for what he does lmao summary: you and haechan finally meet in person, but the circumstances aren't very ideal. how long can he keep himself together?

A/N: this took me fucking FOREVER but finally i'm done T^T. sorry for the wait + please leave feedback preferably in reblog tags!!

link to part one

------

annoying ass 🤎 🐻: please call me back annoying ass 🤎 🐻: im sorry annoying ass 🤎 🐻: please dont hate me

your heart hammered in your chest as you watched each message pop in, nervously chewing on your fingernail. the confidence left you the moment it was all over, and while you felt bad for leaving haechan completely in the dark, you weren’t sure where to go from here. 

everything you’d just done felt out of character, as if some alternate persona took over. it was sort of empowering, being this more confident and taunting version of yourself, and knowing that your little puppy crush on one of your best friends was reciprocated only confirmed that feeling. 

but it was all foreign and uneasy now, you sitting cross-legged on your bed staring at your phone while the room only seemed to feel bigger and bigger around you.

after some contemplation and a self pep-talk, you figured there was no way around directly addressing what got you here without forever being uncomfortable with each other. you just weren’t sure how to go about that, but it didn’t matter because you were picking up your phone before you could talk yourself out of it. 

haechan picked up immediately. “hi.”

“hey-”

“i’m so sorry, y/n,” he cut you off and his voice sounded even worse, like he was about to cry. “i don’t know what i was thinking. you deserve so much better. i’ve been so disrespectful.”

“i’m so sorry, y/n,” he cut you off and his voice sounded even worse, like he was about to cry. “i don’t know what i was thinking. you deserve so much better. i’ve been so disrespectful.”

woah.

you were, for lack of a better word, shocked at his formal apology considering how he would normally struggle just to admit defeat in any other context. you and jeno would genuinely fight him to get him to say he was wrong at times. “oh.”

“i understand if you don’t wanna be friends anymore,” he continued, clearly crying now. your stomach flipped. “i really fucked up.”

you didn’t even realize exactly how much this invasive habit of his had been eating at him until now, and you honestly wouldn’t have even played with him the way you did if you knew it would end up with him crying to you like this. this felt serious and strange, like something you only experience once, and it lit fire in your veins.

haechan was never open like this. he was open to listening and aggressively caring, sure, but the idea of him crying to you about anything wasn’t even a thought before today. the wet cracks in his voice were the most intriguing part, and you wished you’d facetimed instead just to see the tears drop from his eyes. loud, obnoxious lee haechan was actually putting his pride aside to let himself feel all the shame he had coming to him.. he had to feel really bad.

but if he felt so bad, why did he do it in the first place?

you felt the switch happen within you, as if triggered into slipping into the other “persona” by your friend’s crying, before you spoke again. “don’t cry, haechan.”

his shaky breaths halted immediately, listening carefully to whatever you were going to say. your tone was nurturing and forgiving, merciful, and he felt that he could cry again just from that alone. he sucked it up, though, curious about why on earth you’d forgive him.

there was some silence before you spoke. “what you’ve been doing is simply disgusting,” you started, pausing to hear if he’d make a comment about that. you were met with silence. “and technically, i shouldn’t trust you anymore.”

there was a ‘but’ in there somewhere, he was sure of it. your sentences were leading somewhere, but they were slow and calculated, and he felt the urge despite his self pity to rush you to finish. he once again sucked it up.

“you already knew that, though. and you did it anyways. that’s what perverts do.” you told him, and this time you could hear him suck in a shaky breath after your pause. you smiled to yourself, hiding it as if he were in the room. “so tell me, haechan. are you a pervert?”

his heart skipped a beat, panicking in search of a response to such a question. truthfully? yes. but did he think you wanted to remain friends with one? “uh. n-no? i mean-”

“no?,” you laughed incredulously, mocking him. wrong answer. “you mean to tell me you beat your junk to me like every day, so much so that you’re crying in shame about it, but you’re not a pervert?”

“no! i meant-”

“is that not entirely backwards to you?” you cut him off, igoring his desperate attempts at backtracking with your piercingly judgemental tone. you felt on fire. “it’s completely fine for you to do what you did? are you not apologizing for the very thing you’re now telling me is normal, socially acceptable behavior? you really are fucked up in the head.”

haechan’s mind swam in a lake of pure confusion, feeling as if he was being pulled back and forth. your actions told him one thing while your words said another, and then they’d switch and give off the complete opposite message. he felt lost like maybe he was just too stupid to understand you, unsure what your motives were. did you really think he was fucked up in the head or were you just saying that to tease him? if you wanted to tease him, was it to turn him on or to make fun of him?

“so you have nothing to say for yourself?”

it seemed so easy to piss you off. you were just about to forgive him, giving him a rope to grab just to snatch it back that quick. that’s what confused him.. it felt so fake yet so real at the same time, this territory entirely unfamiliar to the both of you. he didn’t know what it was like to really make you mad, to really disgust you, so he couldn’t tell what was genuine and what wasn’t. 

he just felt stupid. completely and utterly stupid, unable to tell what’s okay from what’s not. was his brain really so twisted that he’d end up trying to convince you that he did nothing wrong? he gave up. “i’m sorry. i am a pervert.”

the defeat in his voice thrilled you. it reminded you of the familiar triumph you got from that exact defeat in other contexts, whether that be during competetive video games or meaningless debates. you usually had to work for it, but now he willingly submitted to you due to the shame of his own actions. it was rewarding; felt like justice.

you hummed in agreement, light and appraising, like a teacher encouraging a student for getting a question right. haechan wanted to cry again. “and do you think it’s a good idea for me to stay close friends with a pervert?”

“...no.”

“then you’ll have to make it up to me somehow, right?”

“yeah?”

he was cooperating with your condescending words as if he were being scolded by a parent. you were once again thrilled, feeling the power you had over him as if it were tangible. 

you sighed as if reminded about how disappointing this was and he felt scared that he might’ve said the wrong thing again. after some silence, you cleared your throat. “so promise me you’ll never touch yourself to the thought or image of me ever again. can you do that?”

but that’s the thing, wasn’t it? he could apologize all he wanted to, teary eyed and desperate to keep you in his life, but would he stop?

was this instance enough to scare him out of his bad habit?

“yes,” he breathed, voice full of hope. whether the hope was for your forgiveness or his future self, you weren’t sure. “i promise.”

—

your relationship was never quite the same.

weeks went by and haechan still acted as if you knew all of his deepest secrets, doing nice things for you and agreeing with everything you said even when he disagreed in his head. he was still witty and loud around everyone else in your circle, but he behaved like a kicked puppy towards you. 

to anyone who payed close enough attention, it would seem like you were blackmailing him or something. it kind of hurt considering you literally weren’t, but he did it to himself. 

jeno noticed the change first, having been the third leg of your usually tight-nit trio. he didn’t say anything directly, but he would reference the sudden lack of chemistry between you at times. sometimes it was a joke and sometimes it just came up in conversation, but you felt bad regardless, even if you’d done nothing wrong. he just assumed it was something that would pass and stayed out of your ways.

you missed the person in your life that haechan used to be. his playful nature, his cocky tone, the bright smile that always reached his eyes.. that especially was something you rarely saw, and it was never because of you.

though, one thing that never changed were the good night texts.

you always texted each other good night even if you hadn’t talked that day, sometimes with emoji hearts or smiley faces. as miniscule as it was, it solidified that you two were in fact not on bad terms, and still wanted to keep in touch with each other.

it was also the reason you decided to play with him some more.

there was a gaming convention that had been coming up for quite some time; a decently sized event in a popular city where all the well-known streamers would meet up with both fans and each other. your circle of online friends had your own little community of watchers that only seemed to grow as each day passed, so you’d all been planning to go since it was announced, talking out the meetup and budget every few days.

the three of you were to meet your other friends - yena, jisung, and winter - at a huge airbnb that you all put money towards renting. the event would last three days while the house is rented out for a week, the extra days set aside to explore the city.

you could practically feel everyone’s excitement for the trip build up as the weeks went by, and as you finally entered the large house with a big suitcase in hand and a neck pillow hanging onto you for dear life, it never faultered. you were the second one to arrive (after jeno), barely even able to take in your environment before he jumped from the couch and engulfed you in a tight hug.

“jeno!” you heaved, the breath leaving you as his grip only got tighter. you hugged him back with just as much energy.

it was kind of surreal to see and feel him in person after only interacting with him through a screen for so long. his body was warm and firm against yours, muscles contracting as his arms tightened around you, and you let out a strangled noise while tapping his back to signal that he should release you. “dude, i love you but you’re gonna kill me.”

he let you go and stepped back, hands still tugging a bit on your forearms like he wanted to hug you again. “i’m sorry, this is just.” he gave you a once over, eyes sort of wide. “it’s just.. you’re real.”

a laugh rumbled from your chest as you nodded, agreeing with the sentiment that meeting jeno in person confirmed that he was in fact real. his smile grew as he stared at you some more, then shook his head as if in disbelief before letting your arms go. “i explored a little. the owner of the place left us these goodie bag things in the bedrooms, but there’s only four so you should grab one before anyone else gets here. come, i’ll show you.”

you had about thirty minutes alone with jeno before the others started piling in an hour or so between each other, loud and excited to finally meet in real life. it felt almost dream-like to hear their voices and see their familiar faces in your physical environment. the two-story house was lively with exclamations bouncing off the walls by the time it was dark.

the place was neat with a lot of space; not necessarily fancy but not cheap looking either. it was organized nicely with real wood floors and smooth clean furniture, board games and gaming consoles in their respective rooms to provide the guests with entertainment. none of you would’ve be needing those anytime soon, though, too focused on catching up on each other’s journey’s getting there.

haechan arrived way later than everyone else, walking in clumsily with a flimsy duffle bag and sweats, hair a fluffy mess and crocs on his feet. he’d clearly worn whatever would make him most comfortable on his plane ride without thinking of the part where he finally gets to meet his friends and take pictures. you thought he just had to be acting silly for attention though, considering he was texting the groupchat in sadness every time any of you sent a selfie with each other, complaining about his delayed planes.

it was no secret that attention was something he thrived (and honestly relied) on, but the way his face broke into that happy content smile when everyone shouted his name and ran to hug him definitely added evidence to that fact. 

your heartbeat quickened when you saw him, his laugh ringing in your ears. you had felt pretty tired because of all the activity and jet lag, but he was the one you anticipated seeing the most so all the drowsiness left you immediately. 

you realized too late that you were just staring at the group hug from a foot away rather than joining in, everyone already releasing haechan by the time you thought to move. it led to a much more intimate-feeling embrace as the rest of the bunch went to sit back down leaving just the two of you there, his expression towards you almost bashful. this greeting was a lot different from jeno’s, with your heart pulsing hard in your chest and your mind much more in tune with your senses. 

he smelled nice, warm and thick with how close you were. feeling the body heat of his form through his clothes grounded you a little and you remembered that this was haechan, someone you’d been wanting to meet so bad for the past year and a half. he was often the only person who could make you smile on shitty days and the only person who could never truly piss you off. just a few blunt words from him had given you breakthroughs before, and while most people saw some unpredictable and obnoxious guy, you saw genuine unconditional care and attention. you hugged him a little tighter.

haechan sighed sweetly at that and burried his face into your neck a bit. “hi.”

“hi,” you breathed back, his voice almost hushed like the simple hello was for your ears only. goosebumps rose on your skin, not used to anything about this, but especially hearing him that close. “was waiting for you all day.”

he moved away from you abruptly then, like he shouldn’t have been touching you for that long, and huffed a fake little laugh. his eyes avoided yours when you studied his face (which was even prettier in person, you noted) as he put his bag down against the wall with everyone else’s. ignoring the weird part of that interaction, you turned around to go back to your seat only to be met with both yena and winter staring you down in a mixture of curiosity and understanding. your heart dropped as you sat down, knowing you were about to get grilled.

your relationship with the two of them was definitely closer than your relationship with jeno and haechan in the emotional aspect. you guys bonded easier, and while the guys were more on the ‘i’m hanging out with you to have fun’ side, the girls were more like the ‘i’m hanging out with you ‘cause we just understand each other’ side. they were sweet but honest, the two of them making the most loving environment for you whenever you needed it. that also made them incredibly nosy, because now that you supposedly kept them updated with any substantial drama, they felt compelled to know anything you hadn’t told them yet.

you side eyed the girls sitting next to each other the moment you felt your phone buzz in your pocket, already knowing it was one of them in your groupchat. sure enough, they were already looking back at you with their phones in their hands and anticipation written on their faces. you rolled your eyes.

duckieee 🐤: ???  duckieee 🐤: did u guys fuck or sumthing?? <winter3: yena 😭 duckieee 🐤: im serious !! wtf was that he looked like he was about to jizz himself <winter3: well yeah but we already know he has a crush on them.. that was just like. a very weird energy like we definitely missed something

you bit your lip to hide the smile starting to break out on your face, unable to contain your excitement about the topic of you and haechan. you still felt like you were catching your breath after hugging him, and your eyes flicked over to him for a moment. he was talking to jeno and jisung, likely catching up when his own eyes met yours for a second and looked away just as fast, visibly stuttering in his thought process because you caught him staring. you went back to your phone.

you: wdym you know he has a crush on me? did he say something? <winter3: ? duckieee 🐤: itz obvious as fuck duckieee 🐤: but thats besides the point <winter3: ^^ you: 🖕 you: ok yes something did happen but i can’t say you: you guys need to drop it for his sake  duckieee 🐤: omg <winter3: woah <winter3: yk you’re gonna have to tell us eventually right? you: and i’ll be expecting compensation for doing so 💗 <winter3: 🖕🏻 duckieee 🐤: 🖕🏻🖕🏻

some time passed with the group of you just making conversation again, now with beers from an ordered case in your hands, taking in each other’s presence. it was probably the most content you felt in a while, the main event of this entire trip now crossed out in your book. sure, you guys came here for the convention, but meeting up was the part that was most anticipated.

there was a moment of comfortable silence after having talked for at least an hour and you took the time to put your hazy brain to use and observe everyone in the room. your eyes scanned the couches from left to right, seeing haechan next to the girls, jeno next to haechan, and jisung in between jeno and you. out of nowhere, you started giggling.

you got a mixed reaction of confusion and amusement, ignoring a comment from yena about you being a silly drunk while jeno spoke, curious to know what was going on in your head. “what’s so funny?”

you looked at everyone again, watching them watch you, eyes lingering on haechan for a second longer than they should’ve. they all seemed just as content as you, sitting relaxed and sleepy. you fought the urge to laugh again as you structured your next sentence in your brain. “you’re all hot as fuck.”

you laughed even harder as the words processed through everyone, surprise on their faces as none of them were expecting that response. they laughed with you a little too, also tipsy and now clearly even more confused, so you continued.

“it’s just like,” you started, sitting up in your seat so you could try your best to seem serious despite the dopey smile on your face. “you’re all gamers, some trash-,” you looked pointedly at jisung, who jokingly opened his mouth and put his hand on his chest in faux offense, earning giggles from everyone else, “-and you all use discord and twitch and all that, yet you’re all hot. it’s so rare; not even one of you are below 10. i’m saying this genuinely.”

“you can change that ‘you’ to a ‘we’, you know.” winter insisted, her eyes sincere and smile sweet. very typical of her, including you into your own compliment to make sure you weren’t left out. it wasn’t even that you thought you didn’t look good yourself, you just weren’t thinking about it. you thanked her regardless.

jeno nodded along to winter’s words and it made you feel a little bashful now that the attention was completely on you, but then he spoke and dragged it even more. “yeah. i mean this in the friendliest way possible, you’re even hotter in person.”

haechan was at a loss. from the moment he walked in and saw you, he felt like he was back in high school, nervous to even be sitting in the same room as his crush. he thought for a moment that he was going to be fine and easily able to keep himself together, but then hearing your quiet voice up close as your body pressed to his drove him haywire. now as he listened to jeno acknowledge how attractive you were without relunctance or actual feelings attached, he just didn’t understand it.

your presence in and of itself was magnetic, and he could barely focus on any of the conversations you all were having because he just couldn’t stop looking at you. there you were, the same person he had a history of getting off to at any and all times of the day, looking even more mouth-watering live and in action. sure, you were also a close friend who sweetly asked how his day was in the evenings and hyped him up in his most energetic moods, but there was currently a phenomenon occuring in his mind.

psychologically (and he didn’t know the exact science of how, but he knew it was there), he had trained himself to associate you with sex and lust, and he had been aroused all night. you weren’t even wearing anything but casual clothing, skinny jeans and a tank top under a halfway-zipped hoodie, but it didn’t matter. he’d seen you in this exact outfit before, but only through a screen, and now he could see even just the details of the cloth material, the textures of your face and lips, and the strands of hair on your head that didn’t stick with the rest. he wanted you so bad.

the feeling of his face in the warmth in your neck earlier replayed in his mind as well, but this was dangerous territory. he’d deny it ‘til the day he died out of fear, but he had been jerking off to you regularly once again despite his strong will not to when you confronted him. you were like a drug and he had relapsed, learning to either hold his desires off until a call ended or come up with an excuse to turn off both his mic and cam and just beat it out real quick, staring hard at your unknowing face. the latter happened very rarely due to how quickly you caught onto his “bathroom breaks”, but that wasn’t enough to convince himself that he wasn’t as bad, or truthfully worse, than he was before. 

to put it simply, he adapted, and as relunctant he was about it at first, he just indulged and indulged until he ultimately gave up on his dignity completely.

but again, this was dangerous territory. you were actually here and he was turned on beyond belief, but he couldn’t just get himself off here. there were too many people and he was likely going to be sharing a room, and he realized it was worse than he thought when he watched you excuse yourself to the bathroom with that usual polite smile, almost having to stop himself from following you just to see more of how your ass swayed while you walked.

yena had created a game, as previously discussed while planning the trip, where each person pulled a paper from a hat with room numbers written on them to decide where everyone would sleep. there were four rooms in total, three of them having two beds and one of them by the game room in the basement. realistically, no one would need that room, but it was nice to have the option for two people to end up sleeping alone. 

you were paired with winter, much to both haechan’s relief and dismay. while he knew there’d be relatively no positive outcome of the two of you sharing a room, but part of him just wanted to be in your presence for as long as possible. he ended up with the solo room downstairs, though, which was definitely the best option, and he grew excited knowing that he was now able to get off in peace.

you all grabbed your things and headed into your respective rooms, starting your night time routines. haechan was thrilled to see that his room had a bathroom right next to it, thanking every higher power that he didn’t have to walk up the stairs again if he had to pee in the middle of the night. he could still hear some muffled laughter and conversation from the floor above him as he settled himself, pulling out his facewash with a smile on his face, rushing to finish his routine so he could take care of his pulsing hard on.

as he entered the bathroom, though, it smelled very faintly of something sweet and fruity, which he recognized to be the strong scent of your clothing when he hugged you earlier. sure enough, the familiar navy blue hoodie you wore sat rolled up on the counter by the sink, and he realized you used the bathroom downstairs when you left just a half hour before this.

his dick reacted before he did, his body just automatically intruiged by anything that reminded him of you. and when he picked it up to place it elsewhere, he realized he had a big decision to make.

his thoughts screamed at him to rub himself off on it, mind already becoming void of common sense at the prospect of getting figuratively closer to you. he knew he should just go return it to you, or at the very least place it somewhere else, but he was nearing past the point of horny, that very familiar feeling of caving in starting to creep over him as he barely weighed his options.

he was placing his facewash down and raising the hoodie to his face before he thought to stop, sticking his nose into it and sniffing deeply for a long moment, groaning when he exhaled. he felt nearly dizzy, hand rubbing himself over his sweats to give himself some much needed relief.

the way your face lit up in conversation when it was something that interested you, leaning forward in your seat made his heart race. seeing the goosebumps and hairs on your arm as you walked past him, wafting your lightly sprayed perfume in his space made him want to grab and kiss you. he could reach out and touch you if he really wanted to, and he did really want to, but he had to relax.

in his mind, if he had just been like normal people and displayed his affection appropriately, the two of you could’ve been dating by now. he could’ve been your boyfriend, sitting right next to you on the couch, arm around you shoulder, kissing your cheek every now and then. you could’ve shared the bed downstairs, his hands roaming your body as you made out, groping your ass and rubbing your cunt over your underwear. you would’ve been all like ‘no.. haechan our friends will hear us’ and he’d say ‘let them hear. they’ll know none of them could ever have you like i can.’ 

he’d fuck you hard and rough, the cheap headboard hitting the wall and the bed creaking as you whimpered at every thrust, wet and loud, skin on skin. he’d watch you try to cover your mouth when he hit your g-spot with a mean laugh, slapping your hand away and forcefully grabbing your face just to come closer and spit, ‘are you stupid? i said let them hear.’

you’d be apologizing and whining his name in desperation, about to cum when he’d see his phone light up on the nightstand for what felt like the millionth time that night, looking over to unread messages of his friends upstairs begging the two of you to shut up. jeno specifically would be angry and exasperated, jealousy apparent even through this ext messages, and he would pick up the phone and take a selfie from a high angle that shows the both of you. you’d be fucked out and teary eyed, his cock deep inside of you and he would be winking and throwing a kissy face, then he’d send it to jeno.

best of all, though, you’d be apologizing for your irrational anger towards him after catching him over a month ago. you’d apologize for making him cry, for calling him a pervert, for making him promise something that you knew he was bound to break just to make yourself feel taller. he’d tell you that you should’ve been flattered by his behavior and you’d cum then, squeezing tightly around his cock as you screamed out his name.

haechan was completely out of his mind.

he knew it whole-heartedly, having placed the bunched up hoodie on the edge of the counter as he desperately humped his now naked cock onto it, eyebrows screwed tightly and sweats and underwear pooled at his feet. the fantasies in his head were all quite stupid, but it was so hot to him to imagine you wrapped around his finger the way he was wrapped around yours. and knowing that when it really came down to it, if he had to tell you about such fantasies, he’d be put in his place immediately. he could only dream. 

he was breathing hard, eyes shut and whimpering faintly with his bottom lip tucked between his teeth, lost in the feeling of fabric from your clothing on his skin, and so so close to coming when he heard someone clear their throat at the doorway.

fuck. why didn’t he close the door?

haechan jolted, a sharp gasp leaving him as he covered himself with your hoodie at the speed of light and turned just to be met with the sight of you at the doorway. your arms were crossed as you leaned against the doorframe, eyebrow lifted and amusement written on your face. haechan’s heart sank deep into his stomach.

here he was again, caught. this was worse than before, much worse, an actual violation. surely, he’d broken an actual law this time, and as his reality sunk in, he felt doom hit him.

“so.. you were just gonna leave a cum stain on my jacket? and thought that was a good idea?” you asked, deadpan but once again amused, and haechan didn’t know what to say. he felt frozen, just watching you react with ringing in his ears before he could even begin to figure out how to get out of this. 

you scoffed at his silence, staring down the stupid look on his face as you walked towards him. he probably didn’t realize it, but his chest was heaving, eyes wide and panicked as he looked down at your judging expression. you just stared at him for a moment, challenging him, then reached for your hoodie when he didn’t budge.

he held it tight to him, resisting against you trying to grab it. you snatched it then, attitude written on your face at his audacity, and he seemed to visbily cower, lowering his face now that his hard leaking cock was exposed.

you laughed, grabbing his face and forcing him to look back at you. his eyes met yours, shameful and a little scared, and you gave him a fake pout. your words came out soft and quiet, laced in disappointment, “you promised me.”

guilty, he sighed in defeat, the sound now familiar to you. “i’m sorry-”

“no the fuck you’re not,” you interrupted him, loud and amused at his apology. “don’t even try that shit with me. just look at yourself.. hard as a rock from my fucking jacket.”

you grabbed his arm and turned him to face the mirror, the reflection of a half naked haechan looking back at him. you moved behind him just as he looked away, too ashamed to see himself like this, and grabbed his dick, stroking slowly.

haechan squealed, eyes wide in shock before fluttering closed and breathing in both deeply and sharply, and you once again laughed. he was fucking into your hand immediately, a new and sort of heavy desperation firing in his veins at your foreign, yet craved touch. you watched him through the mirror, stroking a little faster and twisting your wrist as you hummed, his hands dropping to the counter to keep him balanced.

“easy there, boy.” you mocked, honestly kind of shocked at his instant reaction. after watching his hips stutter at your words, you came up with an idea. “i want you to listen to me very carefully. can you do that?”

he nodded hesitantly, eyebrows knitted in concentration as he chased his high. it was rising quicker than expected since he was already wound up, and he felt like he might die if he didn’t cum soon. you kissed the back of his neck before you spoke, earning a soft moan.

“honestly, haechan? i want you to fuck me so bad,” you admitted in a sweet longing sigh and he moaned again, louder. you couldn’t bite back your smile, using your free hand to tightly cover his parted mouth before you continued. “and i know you want that just as bad, if not more, so i want you to prove to me that you can. if you last this handjob, i’ll let you fuck me.”

he’d never make it past two minutes.

haechan was completely and utterly overwhelmed, lost in the way your smaller hand wrapped around his length. this was more than just seeing the person he had been losing all control over in person; this was your skin on his most sensitive area, your soft hand replacing his as you helped him get off to you. he felt the way your boobs brushed against his back, your breath at his neck, your hand clamped on his face. you were just hundreds of miles away and now you were all over him, your warmth and smell engulfing his senses as you gave him the pleasure he’d craved from you for so long.

you stroked him faster, ignoring his groan and leaning up to his ear in a whisper. “you’re seriously pathetic, you know? i gave you the opportunity to start over and you violate my clothing?”

your words were sharp and judging and haechan keened lewdly, getting deja vu. your breath tickled his ear, the faint smell of beer passing through his nose at your proximity. he felt like he was floating; completely in heaven with you all over him, piercing him with degrading words.

“you like that nasty shit, don’t you?” you asked, relentless with your pace on his cock. at his silence (or as silent as he could be with mindless whimpers leaving his throat), you removed the hand on his mouth to get an answer. instantly, he was heaving loudly as if he had just saved himself from drowning, irritating you as he once again just didn’t seem to think about anyone else in the house. “will you shut up? i asked you a question.”

after your words processed in his mind, he looked up at you through the mirror, eyes lidded and glossy and confusion written on his face. you rolled your eyes. clearly nothing you were saying was registering with him. “dumbass.”

maybe the words you spoke to him actually weren’t making sense in his mind at the moment, but he clearly understood something in your tone that told him you were degrading him, making him feel like his world revolved around you. 

your hand started squeezing tighter at the tip and he fell forward, his own hands gripping the counter for balance. a time bomb was ticking in his gut, having been sitting on the edge of an orgasm for what felt like hours now, and he knew he was done for. his thrusts became sloppy and his eyes shut, eyebrows twisting as his pleasure intensified. he was normally so much more talkative, or at least vocally responsive in bed, but you had caught him in an act and were actively putting him in his place, sending his head to the clouds. the thrilling part was that he knew this was only a fraction of what you could do to him had there not been a house full of people in the way.

everything felt surreal. he didn’t even realize the sounds he was making, high and desperate, or the fact that he was starting to shake. you continuously hummed and chuckled at him and it drove him insane, getting no sort of sympathy from you as he lost himself completely just from your hand. one noise he made in particular, a high and desperately pathetic whine, clearly caught your attention because you mocked it in the same tone, lifting the end a bit to make it sound like a question. he was going to lose his mind.

“stop, stop, stop, stop,” haechan begged, breathless and desperate for both an orgasm and something more, still fucking your hand despite his words. you could tell he was close before he even said anything, but you weren’t nearly done, so he was just going to have to figure something out on his own.

as he struggled to hold back, mouth agape with whiney breaths leaving him, a thought occured to you. “when i confronted you a while ago.. were you really crying because you didn’t want to lose me as a friend, or was it because you were scared you wouldn’t have me as a form of free porn anymore?”

he came then, hard and graciously, and you busted out laughing. he couldn’t even fully register what you had just asked him; he just heard the tone of your voice, condescending and merciless, and understood that you were acknowledging his vulnerable tears and invasive behavior at the same time. it was all too much, past the point of too much, and his orgasm nearly knocked him over with the force of it, leaning completely on the counter now as his legs tried to keep his body upright. your laugh was drowned out by static for a moment before reaching his ears again, now quiet and to yourself as you turned his body over so he was leaning on the counter entirely.

then the realization that you were still stroking him, just as fast as before, hit him like a truck.

he wailed openly, torso stiffening as he used his palms on the counter to subconsciously lift his body up and away from your hand, hips pushing into it regardless. you shushed him harshly. “don’t make me cover your mouth again. we’re in a house full of people. not that you care.”

“please,” he begged, voice barely coming out as he looked up and into your eyes fully for the first time, ignoring your words. his recently lidded eyes were now wider and you could actually see his dilated pupils, eyes already watery from the painful pleasure he was recieving.

“i asked you a question, haechan. a very important one,” you reminded him. his eyebrows furrowed, desperation laced in both his breathing and the way he looked at you from one eye to the other quickly, trying his best to explain his confusion without words. you lifted a brow.

he looked away then, eyes landing around the room as he tried his absolute best to remember what you asked him, brain full of absolutely nothing as your hand continued to work him with speed. you could physically see the seperation in his mind from his body, loud whimpers leaving his mouth and hips jerking both away and towards your hand as he tried to think. 

“are you too stupid to remember anything now?” you pressed. haechan moaned then, deep and too loud for your liking. irritation laced your words then, mocking him as you spoke slowly. “your name is haechan.. you’re twenty-one years old.. you’re a filthy pervert? a stalker with no self control.. ringing any bells?”

dumbly, he nodded, the slow speaking actually helping him despite it’s purpose. you smiled widely, wishing you could get this on camera. “yeah? that’s you, baby?”

the petname sent a hard rush through him from head to toe, slow and electrifying, and he didn’t even realize he came again until he came back to his senses. he was sitting on the closed toilet seat now, his pants back on and his eyes bleary as he took in his surroundings.

you weren’t anywhere to be seen.

shaking off the feeling of deja vu, he got up on shaky legs and grabbed the water bottle you must’ve left for him on the counter, not noticing how dry his mouth was until he saw it. he downed it quickly, the loud crinkling of the bottle echoing off the walls as he emptied it. 

once again, he was alone after your assistance, but it was different this time. he wasn’t confused or sad, nor did he want to reach out and apologize. he just knew now that this was the game you were going to play, and even if he didn’t like it or wished there was more to it, he had to be grateful for what he had of you. 

because realistically, he shouldn’t have had anything.

—

creeping through the hallway proved to be extremely unnecessary once you entered your room, because winter was wide awake.

you snorted when you saw her figure lying back on the bottom half of the bed, legs dangling off the edge with her phone held above her face. she was clearly into whatever she was watching, the screen’s brightness being the only light in the room. you made your way to your suitcase to find some pajamas. “why are you still up?”

“i could ask you the same thing,” she bit back, quick and playful. it would be a lie to say your heart didn’t sink a little at the possibility of her knowing what happened downstairs, and she took your silence as an answer. “if you guys are fucking, i don’t get why you just won’t say so-”

“we’re not!” you hissed in a whisper, hinting that she needed to keep her voice down when saying something like that. you were pulling your pj shorts up your legs when she gave you a highly suspicious look, that being the first time she turned her face away from her phone since you came in. you tried to give her a convincing look but a smile creeped on your face regardless, and you cursed your reflex of smiling when embarrassed. 

winter scoffed in amusement and turned back to her screen. “i hope you know i don’t believe you one bit, and you should feel lucky you didn’t room with yena because she’d be tearing you apart right now. however, i’m the nice one so i’ll just let you sleep and wait until the morning.”

bless her heart, you thought.

you were settling into the white bleach-smelling sheets of the bed, already feeling the long day catch up to you when you got a notification.

you were going to ignore it considering you’d left your phone on the floor on accident, but when you looked down, you saw the unmistakeable contact name with the brown heart and bear emoji. putting aside your laziness, you reached down and grabbed it, letting the screen unlock with face recognition so you could read the message.

annoying ass 🤎 🐻: goodnight

you felt giddy at the text, heart warming at the fact that he remembered. you mentally slapped yourself for not remembering first, especially after completely demolishing him not even an hour ago.

you knew this relationship was weird. what haechan was doing was weird, and your tolerance for it was weird. but regardless of already having two people curious about it, and possibly three with jeno’s confusion, nobody had to know, so it didn’t matter. you both had something to lose which made you both vulnerable to each other, and it was inevitable that this would only continue to become nastier and more eventful, but that only excited you. the two of you could be weird together.

typing quickly and with a sense of solidarity, you texted him back and shut your phone, ready to see what the next day might bring for the two of you.

you: goodnight <333

- -

TAGLIST: @paymal7 @bisexual-babygirl-mj @zzztaegizz @deepbookslibrariesquotesbear @tyongerine @hellooseulgi @liliansun @neonymphatbest @muiiq1 @scentedponykidpainter @pocketneos @lune1897 @jenocrush

A/N: thank you everyone for the nice words about the first part and showing interest in a part 2!! sorry for the delays and everything. also if some things like timing in the story didn't make any sense it's because i didn't plan that part out so i just wrote whatever pls ignore it lmaoo

[slamminslamminmcgill]

Perrito Chapter 3: Position - Lalo Salamanca/FTM Reader (NSFW!)

your first 24 hours on the job. you're starting to adjust to daily life as lalo's puppy, though there's a feeling of dread that you can't quite shake. tags/warnings: oral sex, vaginal sex, petplay, humiliation/degradation, exhibitionism, stalking, non-consensual body modification, gaslighting, psychological abuse, intoxication (weed and cocaine) anatomical terms: cunt/hole, t-dick word count: 9,139 (most normal lalo stan) ao3 link author's notes: we're so back (in all /srsness thank y'all for supporting me these past few months as i have been Going Through It. i promise the next chapter will not take this long) como siempre no soy un hablante nativo pero estoy aprendiendo. entonces por favor corríjame si se encuentra algo de errores :3

This was not the first morning you woke up feeling like a complete and utter dumbass.

And it probably wouldn’t be the last. 

Though as you prodded the bruise on the underside of your bicep, you struggled to think of a time that you’d fucked up even half this bad. 

The only thing that came close was the day you got arrested. You remember it in flashes. First, you were in the passenger seat of a car, nothing fancy. You couldn’t recall if it was a Honda or a Hyundai, but you were never much of a car person anyway. Whatever it was, it was blue, and parked in a seedy alleyway. You had your mouth on a cock, one of many you’d taken before, thinking about what you’d get for lunch after this. Anything that would get the taste of cherry-flavored condom out of your mouth. Suddenly, there was a knock on the window, and you and your client were dragged out of the car by two nosy officers. Handcuffed, bent over the hood, and trying your hardest not to cry, one of them patted you down, and reached into one of the small pockets in your denim booty shorts.

“Yep. Cocaine. So now we can add possession of a schedule two narcotic to your charges.”

Just your fucking luck. That morning, a client had given you an 8-ball in exchange for a discounted blowjob. It would’ve been cheaper to just pay your normal rate, but he said he was trying to kick the stuff and it was just collecting dust in his possession. You had no interest in trying coke for yourself, but you figured you could sell it pretty easily. After all, what’s one illegal trade versus another? Plus, the guy had said it was high quality. Allegedly, it was the good shit from Mexico. 

Mexico. 

Maybe it was Salamanca product. 

Maybe Lalo had been controlling your life for longer than you thought. 

The next thing you remember was crying in the interrogation room. 

You’d refused to talk to the pigs, as you should’ve. You weren’t that stupid. You knew nothing good would come of it. They could just lie and say whatever asinine thing they felt like to get you to snitch on yourself.

“We just want to know what happened, kid.” Bullshit. 

“We’re trying to help you.” No you’re not. 

“Cry all you want, but you got yourself into this mess. If you talk to us, we can find a way to get you out of it.” Fuck. You. 

Blubbering, choking on snot and tears, more scared than you’d ever been in your entire life, you stood your ground.

“I’m… *sniff* I’m invoke- invoking my… *sniff* right to remain s-silent and my right- *sniff* right to c-counsel… P-P-Please…” Breathe. Just breathe. In, then out. Innn, ouuut… Okay. You’re okay. You can do this. What’s the next line? “P-Please provide me with an attorney.”

To their credit, they did. The next person you spoke to was a public defender, a guy in his 40s who looked like he hadn’t slept in days. You remember what he said when he saw you.

“Oh jeez, you poor kid. Hey, hey. It’s gonna be okay. Please, please don’t cry. I, uh… I think I got some napkins you can use.” He’d opened his disheveled briefcase and handed you some thin fast-food napkins. As you mopped up your misery, he took out a pen and paper, and sat down across from you. He wanted you to be as comfortable as possible. Also, he was a sympathetic crier, so he didn’t want to make things harder for himself. “My name’s Jimmy. I’m gonna be your lawyer. Can you tell me your name, bud?” 

Jimmy tried. He really did. But the best deal he could get for you was 6 months. You remember the look of sadness on his face when he told you that you’d be going to prison. You broke down, sobbing violently into your palms. You heard his voice crack under your heavy burden. 

“I know… I know, kid. I’m sorry. Just let it out.”

“I’m gonna die in there… I’m gonna die…”

“No, no, no! No, you’re not! Keep your head up, okay? 6 months will be over before you know it.”

“No, you don’t understand…”

You came out to him, and his face contorted in horror when he realized what you’d be subjected to. Jimmy felt like the worst lawyer in the world; he somehow managed to get a client the death penalty for prostitution and a few grams of coke. He had never felt so fucking guilty. At least he gave great hugs. 

The cops who did your strip search did not. 

Your memory got hazy from this point. You dissociated through the entire intake process, mindlessly following directions. Stand here, turn, turn, face forward. Walk. Stand here. Take your clothes off, oh dear god. Run your fingers through your hair. Open your mouth. Squat. Cough. Put your new clothes on. Take your stuff. Go to your cell. You were lucky to not have a cellmate assigned yet. You could spend your first few hours of incarceration crying in your bed alone.

At lunch, you went to the shower, and the rest was history. 

And a few weeks later, you were laying in a luxurious bed, waking up well-rested from the amazing sex you were being paid $10,000 a week to have. 

And you had a microchip in your arm. 

This wasn’t post-nut clarity; this was post-nut psychosis. No, post-nut divine revelation, like God himself had come down from Heaven just to call you a braindead dipshit who should’ve seen this coming. Like the 2nd-generation cartel boss that paid you to live in his house and drain his balls wouldn’t find a way to track you wherever you went, dumbass? What were you thinking, huh? Are you fucking stupid? Huh? Are you? Are you stupid?

Probably.

You probably were stupid.

But you definitely were hungry, and hell, Lalo promised you breakfast once you woke up and came down to the kitchen. If there really was a microchip in your arm, it wasn’t exactly going anywhere. You might as well enjoy the perks of your situation, of which there were many. Maybe a full stomach would empty your head.

Having completed your morning routine in Lalo’s master bathroom, you threw on some casual clothes, stared at the dog collar your reflection wore, and headed downstairs to the kitchen, where Lalo was eagerly waiting for you, with an apron tied taut around his slutty little waist. 

He gasped in delight when you finally graced him with your presence. “¡Buenos días, perrito! (Good morning, doggy!)” He ran up to you and gave you a warm, tight hug, one that could’ve lulled you right back to sleep if he kept it up for long enough, especially with such soothing puppytalk. “Ay, mi chiquito lindo, te quiero muuucho. Te quiero, te quiero. (Ay, my cute little boy, I love you so muuuch. I love you, I love you.)” But instead, he eventually broke the hug to kiss your forehead and pat you on the shoulder. “You sleep okay?”

You slept fine, but waking up was another story, a story that you didn’t tell. “Yeah, I’m good.” You yawned and stretched once he let you go. “That bed is super comfortable. Way better than what I’m used to.”

“Well, get used to it! It’s definitely a step up for you. Good for your back too.” Lalo laughed, patted you once more, and opened up some of the kitchen cabinets. He kept talking as he grabbed a frying pan and some mixing bowls. “Now that you’re up, I thought we could cook breakfast together. You down?”

“Yeah! Sure. I’d like that. I’m hungry.”

“Figured you would be. I gave you quite the workout last night, huh?” Lalo winked at you over his shoulder as he started to position everything on the counter. When he turned his back to you, you couldn’t help but ogle his ass in those insultingly tight jeans he always wore. “Can you do me a favor, actually? Can you grab the eggs and chorizo from the fridge? Should be on the second shelf.”

His question took a second to finish buffering in your distracted mind. “Hm? Oh, yeah! I gotcha.”

You walked over to the fridge and opened the double doors. It was bigger than the fridge you’d had at your apartment in Albuquerque. A lot bigger. Your eyes scanned the fully stocked second shelf, searching for what you had been instructed to find.

Your back to him was the perfect opportunity to strike. Lalo snuck up behind you, snaked his arms under your armpits, and clipped the leash to your collar. Thank god you hadn’t grabbed the eggs yet, because he yanked the leash back and knocked you off your balance.

“¡Siéntate! (Sit!)”

You turned around and dropped to your knees, looking up at Lalo with a face of pure confusion, which he found incredibly amusing.

“What? What are you looking so surprised for?” He reached over you to shut the fridge. “On-call means on-call, puppy! That means if I need you, you gotta be ready for me, yeah? Any time, any place.”

Right. That was what you signed up for. You just went expecting it to be so… sudden. “Okay, yeah, sorry, I just thought that-“

“Ch.”

What? What the fuck did he just do? It was like he shushed you, but it was a ch rather than a sh. Sharper, and with a more distinct bite to it, like a threat. It shocked you into silence, which is exactly what he wanted.

“Good boy.” Lalo balled the slack of the leash in his fist and crouched down to your eye level. “Now, you gonna be quiet? You gonna be a good doggy and do what you’re told?”

Son of a bitch. You really were his dog. The puppytalk, the headpats, the commands, the microchip. His commitment to the bit was honestly impressive. You nodded, ready to listen.

Lalo smiled and tousled your hair, recreating the bedhead you’d so carefully combed away. You would have been annoyed if it didn’t come with some intoxicating praise. “Good boy! Such a good boy! Who’s a good boy? You are! Yes you are! You’re a good boy!”

His sweet words soothed your mind. You could feel your thoughts, reason, your very humanity melting away with each strand of your hair curled around his fingers, each repetition of “good boy” that left his lips and emigrated to your ears. Degrading? Yes, but that was part of the fun. It was nice to not have to think for yourself. You could just close your eyes, sit back, relax, and let yourself be spoiled. Lalo would take very good care of his dog.

Lalo could see the transformation, the shift from person to puppy at the very second you stopped thinking. Having you exactly how he wanted you, he smoothed your hair out to something almost as tidy as you’d had it before. “That’s it… Good boy… Good doggy…” To snap you out of your daze, he snapped his fingers in front of your face. “¡Ay! Mírame. Look at me, puppy.”

You did as you were told, gazing up at Lalo as he stood upright and let the chain leash jingle as the excess fell from his hand.

“Good boy.” Lalo held his hand out for you. “Shake. Dame la pata.”

Assuming a dog wouldn’t have the same dexterity for a handshake as a human would, you laid your limp-wristed hand in his, and let him grab it and shake it.

That was the right move. “Perfect! Good boy!” He let go of your hand and you placed it back on your thighs alongside the other. “Habla. Speak.”

You’d learned your lesson last night, and told him what he wanted to hear. “Woof woof!”

“Ha! Aw man, I never get tired of hearing that.” Lalo’s hand found its way to your hair again and he asked, “Good boy! You want a treat? You want a treat, boy?”

You weren’t entirely sure what a treat would be in this context, but you guessed it’d be something good. You nodded once more, accepting whatever blessing he would bestow upon you.

Lalo’s smile dropped, “I need to hear you, puppy. I need to hear you if you want your treat. C’mon,” and pulled the leash hard enough to gag you a little, “Speak!”

“Woof! Woof, woof!”

“Gooood boy.” Lalo purred and slipped the leash’s handle onto his wrist. Now having both hands free, he went to untie the apron and unfasten his belt. 

Should’ve seen that coming. You thought to yourself, though your self-contained sarcasm went out the window once his cock was out. You’d seen it a bunch by now, but it never failed to make you drool. You licked your lips in preparation. 

Lalo slooowly pumped himself in front of you, watching you squirm anxiously. His foreskin retracted and slid back so easily, and the overhead kitchen lights illuminated the single drop of precum leaking from his slit. It felt like ages before he finally said to you, “Come get your treat, doggy.”

And your mouth was on him in a flash, an instinctual response to a simple command. You were so well trained. Such a good dog. You reached up to squeeze his ass and push him further down your throat. Even with your mouth plugged with cock, you found yourself moaning in pleasure. 

Your voice vibrating his shaft inspired Lalo to speak up, through a deep, rich groan. “Ooh, yeah, that’s it… That’s a good puppy. I almost think you enjoy this more than I do!”

Possibly, but with how obnoxiously loud he was moaning, you thought it was pretty balanced. You pulled his cock out of your mouth to spit all over the tip and spread it down. Once you’d soaked his entire length, you lifted it up to slurp on his balls. 

 “Yeah, yeah, there you go… Good doggy. Good-“ Lalo went still and unnaturally stiff for a second. Then, he started laughing. Hard. 

You pulled back to check on him. “Uh… you good?”

“Yeah! Yeah, I’m good. Just…” Lalo braced himself against the fridge to catch his breath, “Just thought of something funny is all. Y’know… dog playing with a ball? Fetch, boy!”

As stupid as it was, you couldn’t help but laugh, too, though you only got 3 or 4 “ha”s out of your system before Lalo yanked the leash and impaled your mouth with his cock. 

“I didn’t tell you to stop.”

Lalo’s spontaneity was definitely something you’d have to get used to. His ability to make you laugh, drop your guard, and then sneak up on you meant that you could never truly relax around him. But hey, that’s what you’re getting paid for, right? Plus, it’s kind of a thrill to be taken by surprise. You continued to service him, wet and sloppy, spit seeping down your face, until another sound stalled the scene: your stomach growling. Loudly.

But Lalo didn’t mind. In fact, he thought it was cute. “Oh, pobrecito (poor thing), was that you? You’re hungry, huh, boy? Well the sooner you get me off, the sooner we can cook, okay? Here…” He held onto you tightly by your hair and began thrusting into your throat. “I’ll help you speed things up.”

You gripped his thighs to brace yourself, knowing exactly what he meant by that.

Lalo fucked your throat with reckless abandon, savoring all the obscene gawkgawkgawk type sounds it made. His breath shuddered as he neared his peak. “Ay, te pinche puto, oh… Oh, sí, como eso. Buen chico. Qué- ngh… Qué buen chico-oh, mierda, estoy… Estoy cerca… Voy a venir… Voy a venir en tu boca de puto… ¡Carajo! (Ay, you fucking slut, oh… Oh, yeah, like that. Good boy. What- ngh… What a good boy-oh, shit, I’m so… I’m so close… I’m gonna cum… I’m gonna cum in your whore mouth… Fuck!)”

And once more you were shoved all the way down. Your nose nestled into Lalo’s bush as he ejaculated down your throat. Without any options otherwise, you quickly swallowed it all. You didn’t get to taste his cum, but the feeling of his aching cock throbbing on your tongue was delicious in and of itself. 

When he was finally empty, Lalo sighed and pulled you off. You coughed as the oxygen rushed you, forcing down the last few drops of his cum. The both of you were disheveled, sweaty, flushed-face messes. What a way to start the day.

“There. Little snack to hold you over before we cook, right?” Lalo tucked himself back into place and unclipped the leash from your collar, signaling that your job was done. He gave you a warm smile and finger combed your hair back into place. “Good boy! Oh, that was good. C’mere. Lemme help you up.” He extended his hand for you to take, lifting you up onto two legs. You were a person once more. Now you could think rather than feel, and speak rather than bark. “You alright? You did great. As usual.”

You chuckled, the warm and fuzzy feeling of puppymode still lingering behind. You were in no rush to let it pass, anyway. “Yeah, yeah, I’m good. Thanks. Glad you liked it.”

“Good!” Lalo was back to his normal, energetic self. He grabbed his apron, clapped you on the shoulder, and said, “Now, go get me the eggs and chorizo.” 

And with that, he strutted back to the counter, business as usual.

You would definitely have to get used to his spontaneity.

…

Breakfast was delicious, so much so that you wondered why he bothered having Yolanda cook at all. Oh well, not your place to judge. His cooking was phenomenal, but maybe hers would have you exploring a different plane of consciousness. After breakfast, Lalo saw it fitting to give you a proper tour of the house.

“Okay, so, you’ve seen the living room, the kitchen, and the master bedroom. There’s a couple more bedrooms downstairs, at the other side of the house. One of them is Yolanda’s, and another is Cecilio’s. The rest are for guests. There’s 2 more bathrooms down that way, too.”

“Mm, okay, got it.” You nodded, making a mental map of where everyone was in the house, though you noticed a pretty substantial gap. “What about all the guards?”

“Oh, they kinda have their own base outside. Makes it easier for them cause they gotta wake each other up to switch shifts. I’ll show you in a bit.”

Honestly, for a cartel boss’s estate, you weren’t expecting it to feel so… homey. Your vision of a drug lord’s mansion was something akin to a fever dream that you’d have after bingewatching MTV Cribs. Everything either marble or gold-plated, 15 Lamborghinis in the garage, and a pet tiger that somehow has its own Lamborghini. But no, Lalo’s place was decorated like people actually lived here. Barring the concrete gate topped with barbed wire, it was like any other family hacienda. Though instead of multiple generations of one family, it was just Lalo and his staff: his cook, his gardener, his guards…

And of course, his dog.

You tried to ignore that nagging feeling under your bicep as Lalo walked you up to a bookshelf. “And so this, oh, you’re gonna love this, just watch.” 

One of the books caught your attention. It was bright red, and its spine said “Hiding in Plain Sight by S. P. Onaj”. How clever. Actually, it was clever, because he reached for a plain-looking blue book on the shelf below it. He pulled it back, and the bookshelf opened like a door, revealing a dimly lit staircase heading downward.

“By the way, pulling that red one sounds an alarm. Just in case any intruder thinks they’ve got me all figured out. Made it obvious on purpose.” Lalo winked at you. “So! Guess what’s down there.”

“Is it a sex dungeon?”

Lalo froze, his facial expression that of bewilderment. You’d got it in one. He didn’t know whether to be annoyed or impressed. “What gave it away?”

You shrugged. “I mean, you’re rich and kinky enough to hire a live-in sex puppy, I’m assuming you’d have your own dungeon. Plus, why else would you be showing it to me?”

“Fair point.” Lalo shook his head and chuckled. “Since you wanna be a smartass, though, I’m not taking you down there now.” He shut the bookshelf door, and the ominous staircase was gone, as if it was never there.

“Aw, boo.” You pouted. “Just cause I guessed it right, you’re not gonna show me?”

“No, I actually gotta run out in a little while, and I’m not gonna show you until I have enough time to give you an extensive tour.” Lalo smirked. “There’s a lot down there. Trust me, it’ll be worth the wait.” He leaned down and brushed your hair away from your ear, making sure his whispered words hit you dead-on. “There’s so many fun things I can do to you, puppy.”

Before you could even whine, grovel, bitch, or moan, Lalo slipped right past you and beckoned you forward. “Alright! Now, I’mma show you outside. C’mere, boy!”

What a fucking tease. You thought, rolling your eyes and following behind him. He held the backdoor open for you to step onto the patio, but before your other foot left the threshold, Lalo grabbed you.

“Hey! What the-”

You were stopped mid-sentence by the sound of jingling metal. 

The leash.

Lalo had clipped it to your collar again and led you onto the patio, like it was the most casual fucking thing in the world, and he didn’t just accost you into a near chokehold. No warning, no red flag, nothing. You didn’t even hear the damn leash before it was on you. You were stunned. “Were you just keeping that in your pocket this whole time?”

“Well, yeah. Where else would it be?” He stepped out in front of you and pulled the chain. “Sit. And don’t talk ‘til I say so.”

You let your snarky comments simmer on the backburner and did as you were told, dropping to your knees on the patio. You felt a slight tinge of embarrassment as you took in your surroundings: the golden midday sunlight, the warm air, the sounds of birds and a lawnmower running. Oh, god, is he gonna make you blow him out here? Out in the open? Well, you’d done worse. You’d even done worse with him, but the spontaneity was gonna stop your heart one day.

Lalo gave you more of those cloyingly sweet headpats. “Good boy. Good boy. There you go, that’s it. Just relax. Shh, shh, it’s okay. It’s okay. Be a good puppy. Be a good puppy for Don Eduardo.”

You gradually synced to his rhythm. He’d ambush you with the leash, then coax you into pupspace with petting and praise. Once you were warmed up, you’d do whatever he wanted. It was easier to adjust the second time around.

And as predicted, your master gave you a firm pull of the leash and an even firmer command. “Cuatro patas. All fours, c’mon.”

You shuffled onto your hands and knees, waiting for your next order. But it didn’t come. Instead, Lalo just started walking, expecting you to follow suit. But you didn’t. You were mortified by what he was implying. 

When you didn’t move with him, he turned around and glared down at you. “What? I can’t take my dog for a walk?” Lalo clicked his tongue and yanked the leash. “Come.”

What was usually your favorite command to hear was now suddenly your least favorite. Lalo was going to have you crawl on your hands and knees, through the grass and dirt, in broad daylight for anyone to see. You kept your head down, staring at the blades of grass that stained your palms and knees green. You weren’t listening to Lalo’s tour.

Knowing damn well he was talking to himself, Lalo still pointed out every landmark that you passed, the first one being right ahead of you. “Pool’s right here. It’s heated, just in case you were wondering. And at night, the lights change color. It’s really pretty. Been thinking about getting a bar out here, too.”

As you approached the perimeter of the pool, the cool grass turned to burning tile. You winced and hissed in pain as your bare palms touched the hot surface. “Ah! Shit…”

To your surprise, Lalo actually showed some concern for your situation. “Too hot?”

You grit your teeth and grimaced, still not looking up at him. “Mhm…”

“Here, c’mon, stand up,” He tugged the leash up, “Two legs.”

You hopped up onto your feet, grateful that you were allowed to keep your skin from melting off your hands. You went to brush yourself off, but Lalo grabbed your wrists.

“Let me see.” He checked your palms for any injuries, and finding that you were alright, released you. “Okay, good. Vamos (Let’s go).”

You walked like a person past the edge of the pool, yet once you stepped onto softer ground, you felt a pull of the leash.

“Cuatro patas (All fours).”

And you were back to walking like a dog, hanging your head in shame as you were paraded around the ranch. 

Lalo kept blabbing about whatever building you passed by, his garage, the guards’ house, the shed. You still weren’t listening. You barely even looked up. You were more intently focused on how the beads of sweat dripped off your face and onto the grass below you. And even though the sun wasn’t directly shining down on them, your cheeks had never felt hotter. This was a level of degradation that you did not expect to come with this job. What was he even getting out of this anyway? Did he like showing you off? Having you jump through hoops? Making you whore yourself out to him and debase yourself for his amusement? Was this even getting him off, or was it just for shits and giggles? And why so heavy on the dog motif? And why was there a fucking microchip in your arm?!

Your mind kept repeating one phrase, one sacred mantra that pushed the bad thoughts away and helped you keep going, one paw after another: $10,000 a week. $10,000 a week. $10,000 a week. 

As you kept internally chanting your mantra, a loud voice derailed your train of thought, and to your shock and horror, it wasn’t Lalo’s.

“¡Patrón! (Boss!)”

Your neck snapped up, shifting your gaze from the ground to the gardener, Cecilio. You hadn’t exchanged more than a wave when you met, and now here you were, being walked on all fours in front of this nice old man. You had never felt so thoroughly humiliated. All you wanted to do was dig yourself a nice little hole to die in, but that’d just make his job harder. It’d be rude of you to mess up his meticulous groundskeeping. Maybe if you asked him nicely, he’d simply bludgeon you to death with a shovel instead.

Lalo waved at him and shouted back. “¡Cecilio! ¿Qué tal? (What’s up?)” He dragged you behind him as he approached his landscaper. “Un buen día para dar una vueltecita, ¿verdad? (Nice day for a little walk, right?)” He knelt down on the grass and ruffled your hair with the same informality as petting an actual dog, one that didn’t understand the abstract concept of embarrassment. “¿Necesitas algo? (Need something?)”

Much to your surprise and relief, Cecilio didn’t seem at all fazed by the spectacle in front of him. He didn’t even acknowledge you. “Sólo tengo una preguntita. ¿Usted quería los arbustos altos como estos o más bien como los en frente? (I just have a quick question. Did you want the bushes tall like this or more like the ones out front?)” He asked, gesturing to a tall shrub that had a stepladder beside it. 

Lalo hummed and scratched behind your ears as he thought about it. “Hmm… Pienso que como ellos están ahora está bien. Déjalos altos. (Hmm… I think how they are now is fine. Leave them tall.)” 

You couldn’t understand much of the conservation; it had gone by too quickly for you to translate. What you could understand was how nice his hands felt, how they scratched every itch you didn’t even know you had. Maybe this wasn’t so bad. Now knowing that Cecilio didn’t care, you were able to relax. You sighed and leaned into Lalo’s patronizing touch.

“Pero… ¿qué piensas, perrito? (But… what do you think, doggy?)” He yanked the chain leash hard to get your attention. “¡Habla! (Speak!)”

And your base instincts reacted quicker than your brain. He’d trained you well. “Woof!” you barked. Upon realizing what you just did, you blushed and pressed your face into him, attempting to hide from Cecilio.

“Oh, good boy. That’s my good boy.” He kissed your forehead before he stood up, and tugged the leash to get you on all fours again.”Come on, puppy. Let’s get you back inside.” And as he walked you toward the house, he called out behind him. “¡Bien hecho, Cecilio! ¡Sigue así! (Good job, Cecilio! Keep it up!)” 

Cecilio called back, “¡Sí, señor! ¡Gracias! (Yes, sir! Thank you!)”

Lalo took you back to the house, again letting you walk on two legs past the pool. You started to crouch down once you made it onto the grass, but he stopped you.

“Nah, that’s okay. You’re done for now.” He unclipped the leash from your collar and stuffed it back in his pocket. “How was that? You okay?”

“Yeah, uh… I’m fine.” You replied, brushing the grass off your knees and pondering what the fuck you just did. “Just, uh… Was that, like…” You didn’t even know where to begin, but your most pressing concern was the mental well-being of the innocent bystander. “That wasn’t weird for him, right?”

“What, Cecilio? Nah.” Lalo waved off your concerns. “He’s fine. Listen, everybody here just does their job and minds their own business. No one’s gonna say anything about you doing yours. And if they do, you tell me. Okay?” 

That was actually reassuring. After all, it was just a job. You were just doing what you get paid for, same as everyone else. “Okay.”

“Good!” Lalo smiled, “So, I gotta run out for a while. Gotta handle some business stuff with a few of my guys. You remember Tuco?”

Thinking back to that one time he broke a dude’s nose in the prison cafeteria for spilling a soda on him, you answered, “How could I forget?” 

“Yeah, so it’s gonna be him and his buddy Ignacio. He’s cool. I’ll have to introduce you sometime.” Lalo went to grab his going out essentials that he left on the counter: his phone, his wallet, his keys, and a 9mm handgun. “You’ll probably be asleep by the time I get back, but if you’re not, I’ll be outside on the patio. Just in case you get lonely. Oh, and feel free to help yourself to anything in the kitchen.” Having everything he needed, he gave you a tight hug and a smooch goodbye on your forehead. “Be a good puppy while I’m gone, okay?”

You giggled playfully. “I will. See ya!”

…

The rest of your day was uneventful without Lalo around. You wandered around the house looking for ways to keep yourself entertained. Part of you thought about sneaking down into the alleged sex dungeon he had, but you decided against it. You didn’t want to 1.) spoil the surprise, and 2.) trip any unexpected alarms or booby traps without him to guide you through them. Instead, you went for a dip in his pool, made yourself something to eat, and took a shower before bed.

During your shower, you dragged the soap across the underside of your bruised arm, wincing when you felt the skin roll over the microchip like how a tire does to a speed bump. There was definitely something under there. There had to be. You could feel it. It was a tiny stick, about an inch long. You could even jostle it around with your fingers. No bruise or vaccination moved like that. And it all made sense, too. Why else would the doctor have to numb you? Why else would he make sure you had your eyes closed when he stuck you? “This is how we do it in Mexico.” Bullshit.

Unfortunately, Lalo did not have any medical books in his possession, nothing that would reveal his tricks. So, all you had to go on was the injection site. All you could do is poke and prod at it helplessly as you laid in his bed, wide awake.

At least the bed was comfortable.

If you had to be kept prisoner somewhere, this was definitely a step up from MDC Albuquerque.

That’s what he was doing, right? Keeping you prisoner. Why microchip you if not? You could rationalize that this was a job; you’d be free to quit any time you want. But that was wishful thinking. As if you’d ever be allowed back to civilian life knowing what you know. Putting in your 2 weeks notice would probably result in Lalo calling in the doctor to put you down. That’s what happens when dogs bite.

No. No. Stop thinking like that. Stop thinking in general. Just go to sleep! Just go to sleep. It’s not that difficult, right? You do it every night! Here, let’s count some sheep. Maybe that’ll do the trick. 

A sheep jumps over the fence. Baa! One. 

Another sheep jumps over the fence. Baa! Two. 

Another sheep jumps over the fence. There’s a microchip in your arm. 

“Goddamnit!” You grabbed one of the spare pillows by your head, screamed into it, and tossed it onto the floor. Having finished with your brief temper tantrum, you stared up at the ceiling, tense, wide-eyed, and fully cognizant. You sighed. You weren’t going to sleep anytime soon. 

Though you probably knew someone who was in the same boat. Someone who you knew would be good company. 

No. No, no, no. Do not go out to him. You cannot be dependent on him emotionally, too. Physically and financially is more than enough. You catch feelings, and that’s how Stockholm syndrome starts.

…

Then again, does anyone know when they have Stockholm syndrome? Is it like anxiety or depression, where you’re aware of your symptoms and yet they persist no matter how many times some asshole tells you to just try yoga? Or is it more like addiction, where you can rationalize anything to avoid facing the problem that you refuse to accept? 

…

Fuck it.

You tiptoed downstairs and out the back door, and sure enough, Lalo was outside on the patio, right where he said he’d be, sitting by the firepit. On the table next to him was a rolling tray, and on the tray you saw a jar, a lighter, and a hemp wrapper. Next to the rolling tray was an ashtray, a tiny golden tool that looked like a shovel for ants, and a baggie of white powder. In his hands, he was twisting a grinder. When he saw you out of the corner of his eye, he perked up. 

“Hey, puppy. What’re you doing up? You feeling okay?”

“Yeah, I’m fine. Just couldn’t sleep…” You rubbed your eyes and yawned. “Can I join you?”

Lalo’s smile radiated the same warmth as the fire pit. “I’d like that. Could probably use the company.” 

You approached the chair adjacent to him, when Lalo raised his hand to stop you. 

“No, no, no.” He slapped his thigh and wiggled his eyebrows. “Right here. Best place for a lapdog, right?”

Unable to argue with that airtight logic, you sat down on his lap and settled in. Lalo hooked his arms around you, kissed your temple, and said “See? You fit right in. Good boy.”

You hummed contentedly and leaned back against his chest as he continued to grind what you hoped was weed. You glanced over at the table and asked, “You rolling a blunt?”

“Yep. You want some? It’s indica. Helps me relax.”

“Sure, thanks.” You sat in silence for a moment until he reached towards the table. He took the jar and lighter off the tray and set them aside, next to the bag of what was probably cocaine. No harm in asking, right? He must have had it out for a reason. “So, uh… is that coke?”

“Yeah. I’m not letting you have any, though, so don’t ask. Especially if you’re trying to sleep. It’s the last thing you need.” Lalo’s voice was tender, but firm. You knew better than to question him on that. It seemed like a hard rule. 

“That’s fine. Wasn’t gonna anyway.” There was a drop in the conversation, until you thought of a way to pick it back up. “So, like… do you do it often?”

Lalo unscrewed the second chamber to the grinder and dumped the weed on the rolling tray. “I guess you could say I do it more than most people, but I don’t always use it to get high. Most of the time, I just do little bumps to keep me awake.”

Granted, you didn’t have any experience with actually trying coke, but you didn’t think you could do it so casually. You’d always thought of it as an extreme thing, something you do lines upon lines of and have either the best or worst night of your life. But no, Lalo was calm and collected, as usual. You never would have guessed if it wasn’t just chilling on the table next to you. Next to that weird little shovel. “What’s that for?”

“What, the spoon? Oh, it just measures a bump for you. Here, watch.” He set the grinder down and picked up the coke and the spoon. He cracked open the baggie and dug the spoon in, retrieving a tiny little pile of coke. “See? Just a little bit.” He brought it up to his nostril and sniffed up the powder. His face crinkled up, and then he exhaled. “And that’s it!” He closed the bag and set it and the spoon aside, sniffling up the trace amounts stuck inside his nose. “That’s all you need to keep you up.”

“Interesting…” You pondered, having gained a new perspective on cocaine. Still, that couldn’t be healthy, right? Why not just, y’know, go the fuck to sleep? “Why, uh… Why do you wanna stay awake?”

“Couple of reasons.” Lalo replied, leaning over you to roll the blunt. “First, sleeping is a waste of time. I got more important things I could be doing. You’re supposed to sleep, what, like 8 hours a day? That’s one third of your life you miss out on. ‘S too much.” His calloused fingers curled the hemp wrapper around the weed so dexterously, like a true professional. You’d expect nothing less from a cartel boss. He probably had decades of practice. “I’m lucky, though. I don’t really need much sleep. I’m good with just an hour or two.”

“Mm.” You concurred in as few words as possible. None, actually. You weren’t cosigning the delusional things he said, just acknowledging that you were listening.

“Second, sleeping means you’re vulnerable. That’s something my tío taught me. People can ambush you in your sleep, and you won’t see it coming. They got a head start if you’re knocked out. That’s why you wanna be up as much as possible. Don’t let them get you.”

The most normal advice to give your nephew. You didn’t want to think about what his childhood must have been like, growing up with lessons like that. You answered with a noncommittal “Ah, gotcha.”

Lalo licked the edge of the blunt to seal it, then flicked the lighter. He singed the tip and took a big puff, blowing out a pretty decent cloud. He sighed, then said, “Your turn,” and the blunt was passed to you.

“Thanks.” You graciously accepted the blunt and took one puff, then another, and passed it back to him. Having both hands free, you scratched your neck absentmindedly, just above your collar. 

You didn’t notice what you were doing, but Lalo did. After taking his hit, he set the blunt down on the ashtray. “Let me get that for you.” Before you could ask what he was getting for you, he unhooked your collar and set it on the table. It wasn’t asphyxiating you by any means, but the fresh air on your neck was a shock to your system. You’d forgotten you were wearing it. It just felt so natural.

“Wait, but… aren’t I supposed to keep it on?”

Lalo’s voice was rich and sweet, honey sticking to the sides of your brain. “I tell you when to have it on, I can tell you when to take it off, can’t I?” One of his hands caressed your bare neck, and you whimpered at the feeling of something besides leather. “And besides… not everything has to be about work, right?”

“Right, yeah… Thanks…”

“Of course. I care about you, y’know.” He picked up the blunt and brought it to your lips. “Take another hit for me.”

You wrapped your lips around the blunt and inhaled until Lalo pulled it away. You coughed, just a tiny bit, and he was there to pat you on the back.

“Shh, shh, you’re okay, puppy. You’re okay.” He cooed, gently stroking your hair. He then brought the blunt to his own lips, took a hit, and blew out the smoke. “Sooo, how was your first day? You like it here?”

The weed was starting to cloud your mind. It took you a moment to realize you were just asked a question. “Huh? Oh! Yeah! Yeah, it was…” Your mind stalled, trying to string some words together as you relaxed into his body. “Mmm, it was good…”

“Yeah?” Lalo chuckled. “I’m glad to hear that.” He reached over you to ash the blunt. “What was your favorite part?” He relit the blunt, took a quick puff, and passed the baton to you. 

You didn’t even have to think about your answer. It was instantaneous. “Blowing you in the kitchen, obviously.” You took your hit and handed it back to him. 

“Ah, yeah, I figured. I can tell you really put your heart and soul into it.” He tousled your hair for the 400th time today, and said “Such a good little slut.” He took a long drag and let the smoke drift lazily out of his mouth. “Did you like being walked?”

Looking back on it through hotboxed windows, you did enjoy the exhibition. How vulnerable and open you felt, How Lalo, no, your master Don Eduardo, clicked his tongue at you and told you to walk, and you crawled through dirt to please him. It was kinda hot in retrospect. “Yeah… Hm…” You tapped the unlit end of the blunt against your lips and thought it over, trying to do your duty as a sub and give feedback. “I think, like… I was a bit nervous at first, ‘cause I was worried about getting caught. But I mean, if Cecilio didn’t care, it’s not really a big deal, then, I guess.” You gave the blunt to your boss. 

He took a hit, and asked “Would you do it again?” 

You took your hit, “I think so.”

“Okay, good. Good to know.” Lalo put the blunt out in the tray and squeezed you tight against him. “You feel high yet? This is strong stuff, baby boy.” 

He was right. It was some strong stuff. A drug lord wouldn’t half ass his weed. None of that pussy bullshit from a medical dispensary that gives you the most limp-wristed handjob of a high so you can fall asleep without nightmares for once. This was a heavy, soul-crushing indica, the kind that has you couchlocked for hours and makes a Crunchwrap Supreme taste like the pinnacle of humanity’s achievements. Taking the time to pause between hits meant that you could actually feel yourself getting high, as if the weed was somehow catching up to you. As if for the past 5 minutes, you two had just been pumping a balloon full of helium, and now you could watch it fly away. Half the blunt was left, but your brain cells were already sizzling away one by one. His big, strong hands rubbed your shoulders, jiggling your limp body around.

And his pinky finger nudged your microchip bruise. 

You locked up. Going from warm and fuzzy to tense and cold at the drop of a hat. You had no words you could use. You were an animal, reduced to base instinct. Panic. Panic. Panic. 

Lalo could feel it. “Hey. You okay?”

Now having been asked another question, you switched from animal instinct to robot programming. What just happened? What did you feel just now? How do we approach this question? You came up with this as a plausible response: “Did you feel that?”

“Feel what?”

Feel what? What did he feel? What was it that triggered your rigid demeanor? You stared off into the distance, dissociating into the program, and lifted your arm. “There’s a stick in my arm.”

“A stick?” 

His tone was unclockable. 

No need to panic. Just tell him what happened. “There’s a stick. In my arm. I just felt you move it.”

“What… right here?” His thumb tapped the bruise dead-on. Bullseye. 

“Yes. Right there. I can feel it moving. Push down on it.”

Lalo did as you requested, digging his thumb into your inflamed skin. He nudged it back and forth, jostling the microchip around. 

“There.” You said, no humanity or warmth to your tone. Purely indicative facts. “It’s moving.” And a simple question. “Do you feel that?”

Lalo pulled his thumb away and sighed. “Honey, I don’t feel anything moving. It just feels like a normal bruise to me.” He hugged you close and gave you a tender kiss, just above your ear. “Maybe… Maybe just give it a few days for the swelling to go down? If it’s still bothering you in a few days, we can call Dr. Cruz to look at it.” He caressed your shoulder. “You’ll be okay. I wouldn’t worry about it, baby…”

“Okay…” You sighed. Maybe he was right. Maybe it was just swelling. Maybe it was just a normal tetanus shot. Maybe the stick you thought you felt was just your latent regret manifesting into somatic delusions. Maybe your body was trying to trick you. Maybe it couldn’t accept how lucky you were, and it was trying to give you a reason to doubt this whole arrangement. 

Or, maybe there really was a microchip in your arm. 

You tried not to think about it. You didn’t have to try very hard. The weed made it easy to forget.

And besides, Lalo’s touch was giving you plenty to focus on. 

“You smell so nice, puppy…” He dotted kisses along your now accessible neck. “I was hoping you’d come out here… Share this blunt with me…” He snuck his hands up your shirt and pinched your nipples. “It’s such a great body high, isn’t it?” 

“Yeahhh…” You mewed softly as he rolled the sensitive buds between his fingers.

“You want more?”

“Mhm…” 

“More what?” Another kiss was planted on your neck. “More of the blunt, or more of me?”

“...B-Both.”

“Both? Aww, haha… So needy…” Lalo slid one of his hands out of your shirt to grab the blunt and the lighter for you. When he gave them to you, he said, “My kinda man…” 

Your clumsy fingers fiddled with the lighter, taking a few tries to get a good burn going. When you had it, you inhaled it, and Lalo started sucking marks into your neck. You choked on a moan and coughed out smoke. “Ahck! *cough* *cough* Oh… oh, fuuuck…”

“You’re okay, puppy. You’re okay.” He took the blunt from you. You whined, but he shut that down quickly. “No, no. You can have it back in a second. Take your clothes off first.”

You panted and nodded, trying to translate his direction into action. “Ah… Okay… okay…” He helped you tug your shirt off over your head and toss it aside. Now, you just had your pajama shorts.

“Can you stand up?”

“I… I think so… Lemme…”

Considering that you stumbled the second your feet touched the patio tile, no you could not. Thankfully, Lalo was there to catch you.

“I gotcha, I gotcha.” He held you up by your waist and slid your shorts down to your ankles, and you stepped out of them with his guidance. “Good boy.” He kissed you again on your temple as he undid his belt. “You wanna ride me?”

And here you were again, a warm, fuzzy, happy, high, dumb little puppy. No need for thoughts. No need for words. Just instinct. Just do what you feel. And right now, you felt like that was the best fucking idea anyone had ever come up with. Your stupid little doggybrain responded with “Uh huh…”

“Good boy…” You heard the telltale sound of denim bunching up as Lalo tugged his jeans down below his cock. He quickly stroked himself up with one hand, keeping you steady with the other. “I’m gonna sit down. Then you get on my lap with your back to me, just like before, okay?”

“Okayyy…”

Lalo took his seat and spread his legs. “That’s a good doggy.”

Without looking behind you, you backed yourself up into his lap, holding your lips open to find him. Eventually, his tip poked your hole. Jackpot. And with that, you sunk down, letting him fill you to the brim. “Ohhh, oh my gahh-ah!” 

He held you in place, shushing you and talking you through it. “Shh, shh shh shh, take it. Take it. Take it.”

And you did, you took it so well. He bottomed out, and you babbled, “Mmmm, iss so deeeep…” 

“I know, right? You’re so tight, baby boy. You always are.” He grabbed the blunt, lit it, and hit it as you purred nonsensically, squeaking when his cock would throb and send a pulse through your whole body.

“Mmm… ah! Ngh…”

“Take your time, puppy. I’ll follow your lead.” He put the blunt between your fingers and kissed your hand. “You’re in control.”

What? You’re in control? Since when? Wasn’t the whole point of this arrangement that you were not in control? Oh well, you weren’t one to squander an opportunity like this. You took a puff for courage and held it between your teeth. With all the strength you could muster, you gripped the sides of the lounge chair, hoisted yourself up, and then slammed back down. You did it again, and again, establishing a rough, relentless pace. You were gonna take him for a ride.

And although you were in control this time, you were still the whiny little bitch you always were, especially when Lalo grabbed your hips and began guiding your movements. You took the blunt out of your mouth to let your moans . “Mm! Ah! Ah, gah! Oh my g-god! F-Fuck! Fuck me! Fuck me-e-e!”

Lalo growled some words of encouragement. “Goooood boy. Oh, you’re doing so good. C’mon. Just like that.”

Having a flashback to the night before, you remembered what you were supposed to call him at times like this: his title.“Ohhh, Don Eduardooo-oh!”

“No, no. Just Lalo. Just Lalo. You’re not-ngh…” He grunted. “You’re not working, baby. Just call me Lalo.”

You were grateful for that. It was certainly easier to say over and over again. It rolled off your tongue so nicely, though the rest of your words were starting to slur. “Lalo! Lalo! Lalo! Ohhh, fuuuck, La-lo… I’m… I’m’onna cuuum… I’m’onna cum, Lalooo…”

Lalo nuzzled his face into your neck, humming and kissing your bare skin as he pleased. “Mmmm, that’s okay, puppy. Go ahead. You can cum.”

Now more motivated and more riled up than you had ever been before, you frantically bounced on his cock, determined to find and feel your release.

“Yesyesyesyes, fuck! Fuck!!!”

You squirted hard enough to push him out of you, completely drenching both your laps and even seeping through the lounge chair. A noticeable puddle had formed on the tile below you, but neither of you cared. 

Well, neither of you cared about that, at least. Lalo had other concerns. “Aww, you kickin’ me out, baby?” He asked teasingly as he lined his cock up with your unacceptably empty cunt. “That’s not nice.”

You started to apologize, but the words got caught in your throat as he sunk you back down onto his shaft. “I’m s-sorry… I’m so-ohhh, fuuuu-ah, y-yesss…”

“Shh, sh, sh, don’t worry. Oh, there we go...” He grabbed your hips and stroked his cock with your person, now chasing his own climax. “You’re being so good for me, baby…”

“Mmm, thank youuu…” You whined. 

“I’m-mm, I’m getting close, baby boy. Hah… ah… You want it inside? All nice and warm for you, yeah? You want me to fill you up?”

“Y-Yeeeah, f-fucking fill me uuup… fuuuck…”

“Okay, baby. I got you. I’ll fill you up.” Digging his nails into your handlebar hips, Lalo huffed and gasped as he thrust up into you. His balls slapped against your t-dick, making you scream as his hips moved faster, rougher, meaner, until they went still. He let out a primal groan and slid his arms up to your chest, pressing your body to his as he unloaded inside, rambling some sweet nonsense in his native tongue. “Mmm, buen chico… Qué buen chico… Mi chiquito lindooo… (Mmm, good boy... What a good boy… My little boy’s so cuuute…)”

It was serene. Peaceful. The most gorgeous night one could ask for. The fire pit was crackling. The crickets were chirping. The cum inside you was warm and fulfilling. It was honestly breathtaking. Sure, some strong weed and an even stronger orgasm could make any night seem beautiful, but no matter. It was beautiful nonetheless. A perfect end to your first full day. And if every day were to end like this, you’d be more than happy to keep them coming.

You both panted heavily as you gazed up at the stars in reverie, high out of your minds. It felt like eons before one of you broke the silence, and it wasn’t you.

“Let’s get you to bed, okay?”