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maruflix · 1 month

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— ★ LIKE OIL AND WATER

☆ — “NO WAY, CAPTAIN NARUMI, YOU WATCH KAIJU SLAYER TOO?!”

FEATURING: Narumi Gen x f!reader x Hoshina Soshiro

SYNOPSIS: Nobody, not even the gossipmongers of the Third Division, can predict Vice-Captain Hoshina’s sudden interest in you. Unluckily for him, a certain Captain of the First Division proves himself to be a tough rival.

CONTENT: [3,3k words] female reader, reader is a platoon leader in the first division, pining narumi (idiot version), hoshina is a menace (no like, seriously), some iNnuEndOs🫣, manga version so hoshina has red eyes, the dumb idiots of the third division, more of narumi and hoshina fighting over you, no beta we die like kikoru’s mom

PART ONE: LIKE CATS AND DOGS

“Stop! I’m gonna die!”

“No, you’re not.”

“I am! Slow down, will you?! I don’t think I can... ah—”

“Huh? You’re so wet...”

“How can I not be wet when the boss is literally a gigantic drop of water?!”

“Yeah, no wonder you almost died. I’m using an electric type character so you’ll also take damage if you’re wet.”

You furiously tap at your screen, trying to avoid the barrage of attacks from both the boss and your oblivious teammate. “Whatever! Stop using your skills, I’m gonna die...!!” As if on cue, your character does a little fainting effect and drops on the ground as the screen flashes red. “Ah... I’m dead.”

Narumi Gen lets out a disbelieved ‘haaah?’ before leaning over to glance at your phone, chuckling. “You suck at this.”

You glare at him. “Then don’t play with me!”

“Aww, don’t get so pouty, I told you I like playing with you.” There’s a surprising honesty in his voice as he smirks at you. “Anyway, don’t you feel cold?”

Now that he mentions it, you are cold. For some odd reason, Narumi’s room is always kept at freezing temperatures, one would think he’s using it to store meat.

He moves faster than you can reply. With one swift motion, he grabs the covers from his bed and drapes it over you.

“C-Captain Narumi!”

He grins and flicks your forehead gently. “I told you to drop the honorifics when we’re alone. Why are you calling me ‘Captain Narumi’ again?”

“Y-you don’t need to...! Your covers will get dirty!”

He shrugs before rolling on his stomach and lifting the remaining covers over his own body. “It’s fine, I do this all the time.”

At a loss for words, you can only gape at him. You’re well aware that this is a weird dynamic to have with your superior. Sometimes you feel guilty to be on the receiving end of Narumi’s obvious affection when he acts like a total prick to his other subordinates, but even the Vice-Captain himself assures you that everyone is just glad that you’re there to put him on a leash.

Meanwhile, the root cause of the problem is totally unaware, already engrossed in his game. “You want my help to defeat the newest boss, right? Let’s go.” He finally speaks, running a hand to sweep back his bangs as he tilts his head to look at you.

You bite your lip and look away. Literally everyone in the force (including you) knows that Narumi Gen is a handsome man, but lately you’ve started to notice him more. “I should probably get some sleep or I’ll be too tired for morning training.”

Narumi grunts. “So what? I always let you off.”

You’re once again rendered speechless. It’s true; whenever your movements get sloppy during morning trainings, he always pretends not to see anything (before proceeding to scold another person for falling behind).

— But to think that he’d actually admit to giving preferential treatments out loud!

“Y-you shouldn’t do that, you know!”

“Who cares? We always train together after that anyway.”

You look away, hoping the darkness of his room is enough to mask your embarrassment. “Whatever,” Scrambling to change the topic, you added, “I wonder what Hoshina is doing right now.”

“Haaah?! Why are you suddenly mentioning that guy?!”

Hoshina Soshiro sneezes just as he’s about to enter the shared bath. ‘I must’ve trained too hard...’ he thinks to himself, rubbing his nose lightly.

After a long day of exterminating kaiju, he’s always looking forward to soak in the hot water. He slings a towel over his shoulder and steps in, only to see that it’s already crowded inside. Hibino Kafka, Ichikawa Reno, Furuhashi Iharu, Izumo Haruichi, and Kaguragi Aoi nearly jump out the bath as he slides the door open, acting like he’s caught them in the middle of murdering someone.

Hoshina blinks in confusion as the men instantly tries to act like nothing’s wrong. Ichikawa clears his throat awkwardly, Furuhashi and Izumo start whispering to each other, Kaguragi stares at the ceiling like there’s a kaiju stuck up there, and Kafka starts whistling loudly.

“O—kay, what’s going on?”

They immediately backpedal. Ichikawa shoves Hibino so hard that the man nearly stumbles out of the bath. He’s quick to recover as he looks up at his Vice-Captain, clasping his hands in front of his chest.

“Vice-Captain Hoshina...! Tell us the truth!”

Hoshina’s expression immediately blanks.

“What he means is!” Furuhashi interjects, elbowing Hibino away, “We really, really want to know!”

Izumo pushes the two out of his way. “Sorry, Vice-Captain. We were just wondering if you’ve got yourself a girlfriend.” He rubs the back of his neck as the other men nod in response.

“Yes, please tell us!”

Tilting his head, Hoshina wonders where they got such an idea. “Where’s this coming from...?”

“Well.. you’ve been checking your phone a lot and smiling at it...” Ichikawa answers in a small voice.

Hoshina blinks in mild surprise. Now that he thinks about it, he has been checking his phone a lot lately to see if he’s gotten a new message from you. The way you chat is as adorable as the way you act in real life, so he supposes he might have been smiling once or twice... or a couple more times... or maybe everytime...?

Smiling, Hoshina shrugs and hops into the bath. “Maybe, maybe not.”

“Ehh?! What’s with that answer?!” Everyone complains at his vague reply, although no one dares to force him to elaborate.

It’s not like Hoshina has to say anything, though; the smile on his face is answer enough. Oh, they can’t wait to share this with the entirety of the Third Division.

“You look like shit.”

Narumi almost drops the can on his hand. Turning on his heels, he glares at Hasegawa, who’s standing with his arms crossed, eyeing him from head to toe. “Shut up.”

Hasegawa shakes his head. “Don’t spend all day playing games. Touch some grass, stay hydrated, bathe in the warm sunlight.”

“What am I, a plant?!” He yells as Hasegawa rolls his eyes and disappears out the door.

Opening the can, Narumi sighs and gulps down mouthfuls of coffee. For the first time ever, Hasegawa is wrong. It’s true that he usually spends his day off playing games, but today he has something else planned.

Kaiju Slayer II is playing at the cinemas right now and it’s the perfect opportunity to ask you out. His favorite series and his favorite person — oh, what a perfect day it will be.

One problem persists: how on earth does he go about saying it?! What if you don’t want to go out? What if you see him as a bother? What if you agree just because he’s your superior? (He spent all night staring at his ceiling until sunrise, stressing over the best way to ask you out.)

Just then, he spots you rounding the corner and his heart sinks to the bottom of his stomach. Throwing his empty can on the bin, he’s so close to chickening out but it’s too late — you’re already waving at him, walking over happily — so he watches helplessly, admiring how beautiful you look in casual clothes.

“Morning, Captain Narumi! Or should I call you Gen? It’s our day off, after all!”

Narumi melts at how sweetly his name rolls out your tongue. “Good morning.” He replies softly, “Are you going somewhere?”

You smile brightly at him. “Yes!”

Your cheerful reply makes him regain his confidence. If you’re already planning to go out, surely you’re okay with him tagging along. Mustering his courage, he’s about to pop the question before—

“I’m meeting up with Hoshina!”

Narumi’s world comes crashing down. His words are caught in his throat as he opens and closes his mouth like a fish out of water.

Meanwhile, oblivious that you’ve just broken Narumi’s heart in two, you rattle on happily, “To celebrate their new movie, a cafe is doing a collaboration with my favorite show! Hoshina asked me to come with him, I can’t believe he likes that show too! He doesn’t look like the type of guy to watch movies, you know? Oh, anyway, the show is called—”

“Kaiju Slayer.” Narumi finishes, sighing in exasperation.

Your eyes widen. “No way, Captain Narumi, you watch Kaiju Slayer too?!”

Narumi massages his pounding temple.

Damn that Hoshina. Damn him to hell.

You feel a wave of déjà vu wash over you.

Right now you’re sitting in one of the booth of the bustling cafe, decorated to the nines with the theme of your favorite show. You should be happy, right? Yeah... maybe if you’re not thrown in the middle of a battlefield, squished between Narumi Gen (who’s sulking as he pouts and crosses his arms) and Hoshina Soshiro (who seems slightly interested by the sudden turn of events as he glances at you).

“I’m sorry, Hoshina...” You bow your head at him, “He insists on tagging along...”

Hoshina smiles at you assuringly. “Don’t worry about it! Looking after such a man-child must be so hard on ya, huh?”

“Don’t talk as if I’m not here!” The man-child in question seethes before going back to pouting.

“You look as beautiful as always.” Hoshina has become an expert at ignoring Narumi as he takes in your appearance, his eyes twinkling. “Please excuse me.” He leans in closer and tucks a stray hair behind your ear, letting his fingers linger on your ear just a moment too long.

You forgot how to breathe. Behind you, you can feel a surging tornado going berserk.

“Hands off, Hoshina! You sneaky lizard, you... you...!!”

“You look good as well.” You manage to breathe out, sweeping your gaze shyly over Hoshina’s attire. He’s clad in black — black turtleneck, black trousers, black boots — only his oversized jacket is the color of his hair, a deep dark purple.

He raises a hand to cover his mouth as he chuckles. His jacket moves slightly and you can see the faint outlines of his muscles. That turtleneck does nothing but highlight the shape of his body. You blush harder.

“Hey?! Hellooo?! I’m still here!” Your captain protests behind you, only to be cut off mid-way when a waitress makes her way to your table.

“Welcome to the cafe! Are you ready to or- oh!” She gasps, making all three of you turn to look at her. The waitress’s attention is on Narumi as she beckons her friend over.

“It’s Captain Narumi of the Defense Force!” One of them giggles, “We’re big fans!”

Normally Narumi would be happy to entertain his ‘fans’, but not right now, not in front of you! He can only nod tightly, grimacing as their excitement grows.

“Ohoho? Never took you for a player, Narumi.”

“What’s with you and wanting to make me look bad?! You wanna take this outside?!” Before he can grab Hoshina by his collar and drag him out, more and more people have started to crowd your table, swarming Narumi and asking to take photos with him. You watch in amusement as Narumi gets more and more dismayed. You’re aware that your captain has a lot of fans, but looking at the interaction in real life is quite comical.

Suddenly you feel a tug on your arm. Looking up, you see Hoshina smiling down at you, his eyes shining mischievously as he puts a finger in front of his lips. “Let’s abandon him here, yeah?”

He doesn’t wait for your reply, already speed-walking out of the cafe with a flustered you in tow. You gasp and managed to grab your bag, narrowly missing Narumi’s arm that shoots out to reach for you. “Catch you later, Gen!” Smiling at him apologetically, you take off as his yells are drowned out by the crowd.

Once you’re outside, Hoshina lets go of your arm before slipping his hand down to intertwine it in yours. Your eyes instantly shoots up to meet his own and he laughs. He laughs so beautifully at your obvious astonishment as he grips your hand tighter.

“Let’s lose him here.” He turns his head just as your cheeks explode in crimson to lead you in the direction of a shopping mall. Honestly, at that moment, you’d follow him anywhere.

“Oh? A purikura.” Hoshina suddenly stops, “Wanna take a photo together?”

Smiling, you nod and let him pull you to the photo booth. He excitedly taps on the screen, seemingly unaware that his arms are now pressing on the sides of your body. Your heart is pounding loudly. It takes everything in you not to combust at the close proximity. Somehow, you manage to pose a couple of times.

After stepping outside, Hoshina takes the results and hands you one of it. “We look so cute~” He coos.

Your first few poses are pretty normal, just the two of you smiling directly at the camera. On the next ones, though, you’ve boldly sneaked a peace sign behind Hoshina’s head. He seems to notice it because on the last photo, he is gazing down at you tenderly with a small smile on his face.

“Oops, looks like the camera caught me.” He sees you freeze and places a hand over your own, chuckling to himself. “I can’t help myself. You’re so cute.”

Exhaling, you’re about to tell him to stop teasing you when you see the serious expression on his face. You immediately bite back your tongue.

“’m serious about you,” Hoshina confesses, eyes opening slightly to reveal his gorgeous crimson irises, “so can you give me the pleasure of courting you?”

Being with Hoshina always feels like being whisked to a fairytale. He’s always so gentle, calm, and compassionate — but at that moment, you see the raw passion in his eyes. You can only nod mutely, barely registering his movements as he leans in and pecks your forehead. You blush instantly, slamming your hands to your forehead. “H-huh..?”

Hoshina smiles and takes both of your hands, bringing them down and holding them tight. “Sorry, can’t help myself. You’re so pretty, and-” He dips his head down, the feeling of his breath on your skin making you shiver, “you smell so good.”

His eyes are nothing short of predatory as he leans back to study you. You’re not sure what kind of expression you have on your face but it seems to amuse him because he moves forward, brushing his lips against your neck. “Excuse me,” He whispers before kissing it hotly.

Your mind is short-circuiting, only brought back to reality when he finally pulls away. “Heh, sorry, was that too much?” Tilting his head at your lack of resistance, he chuckles lowly, “Gonna have to speak up if you wanna stop me from doing somethin’, you know? Otherwise you’re gonna make me think you want me to continue.”

That’s the thing — you don’t want him to stop.

“That reminds me... Are you on a first name basis with Narumi?” Hoshina hides his irritation well, but this time you can see his annoyance slip through. “You’re gonna have to start calling me Soshiro from now on.”

It’s like you’ve been hit by a combo, a chain attack; first the confession, then the forehead kiss, then the—

Hoshina brings his lips to whisper in your ear. “So? Do it, call me Soshiro.”

If you are in a game, that move right there is definitely a critical hit.

“S-Soshiro...?”

He finally straightens back and ruffles your hair, acting like he hasn’t just made your heart run a marathon then stop it from beating altogether. “Good girl.”

K-O.

Your day off feels like a fever dream. You still daydream about it sometimes.

Holidays are few and far between in the Defense Force. You wanted to make the most of it by going to a collab cafe. Instead, you had to feel the full force of Narumi Gen’s jealousy as he stubbornly inserts himself into your plans, escape his fans by letting Hoshina Soshiro pull you with him, and...

Involuntarily, your hand shoots up to your neck.

Hoshina Soshiro is a dangerous, dangerous man.

“Platoon Leader?”

Narumi’s voice snaps you from your thoughts. Straightening your posture, you blink a few times. Right. You’re at work right now.

Narumi, Hasegawa, and the entirety of the First Divison Platoon Leaders are currently visiting the Tachikawa Base for a joint training program. After the formal introductions, everyone gathered in one of the huge training fields. You’ve become acquainted with the Third Division’s Captain, Ashiro Mina, and the other members of her division.

“My apologies, Captain Narumi.” You wince, shaking your head to get your focus back. Thankfully it’s break time right now.

There’s a flash of worry in Narumi’s eyes. He hands you a bottle of water, to which you take gratefully. Just then, a couple figures make their presence known.

Hibino is once again shoved forward by his friends. His eyes flit between you and Narumi nervously. “Umm,” he starts, twiddling his fingers, “May I ask you something?”

“Sure! What is it?”

Ichikawa gives him another push before Hibino finally exclaims, “Is it true that you and Vice-Captain Hoshina are dating?!”

The volume of his voice is enough to catch the attention of nearby soldiers. They all turn to look at you with interest in their faces. Meanwhile, you’re growing increasingly flustered. “U-uh, wha-”

“Oh, really? You never told me.” Even the stoic Ashiro Mina is interested, covering her mouth with her hand as she looks at her vice-captain.

Hoshina has the biggest smile on his face. “Oh my.” He comments, refusing to elaborate.

You feel another arrival of a cyclone next to you.

“H-Haaahhh?! This is the first time I heard about this!” Narumi yells, making Hibino and Ichikawa shrink back in fear.

“C-Captain Narumi, it’s not like that! We’re not dating!” Aghast, you blush in embarrassment at having to clarify the relationship you have with Hoshina.

“Platoon Leader, you’re so cold! I have the picture to prove it, y’know?” Hoshina says in a sing-song voice, walking over to the crowd.

The ambiguity of his sentence only made the situation worse. Judging by the sickly sweet smile on his face, you have a sudden sinking feeling that he’s doing it on purpose.

“What?!” You hold your breath as Narumi spins you around to face him, “What is going on?!”

“Captain Narumi, you can’t possibly believe-”

“Hoshina! I’m so happy for you!”

“Shut up for a moment, Ashiro!” After saying that, Narumi pulls you away to a more quiet space, leaving behind the shell-shocked soldiers.

Captain Narumi is scary when he’s angry. Right now, he’s glaring at you so hard, it makes you want to melt to the ground. “Come see me after the day ends.” He whispers as you feel another wave of déjà vu wash over you. The last time he calls for you, he let you off with a couple of kisses. This time? You’re not so sure.

“Ah, there you are!”

Hoshina walks over and pulls you free from Narumi’s grasp, meeting his furious gaze evenly. “You always hog her to yourself. It’s annoying.” He says sweetly, venom lacing his words. “Anyway, what’re you doing after this? I want to continue where we left off...”

You stare in terror as Narumi’s anger finally reaches boiling point.

“The hell do you mean by that, Hoshinaaa?!!! You, you-”

“So noisy. You wanna take this outside?”

“Hell yeah I wanna take this outside!”

“But we’re already outside, idiot.”

“Boys! Boys,” Placing a hand on their chest to stop them from mauling each other, you look at the sky and sigh in exasperation. “Let’s be civilized, please!”

“Then meet me first tonight.” Hoshina grins, “After that you can compare me with that idiot. I guarantee—”

“What, you think I’m afraid?!” Narumi has lost all his composure by now, “Okay, do it then! I promise you, I can show you a whole lotta better time than this guy!”

You gulp when the two men turns their head in sync to look at you, urging you to agree to their little arrangement.

Yikes. Looks like you’ve bitten off more than you can chew...?!

TAGLIST: @bgyuus (send me an ask/reply if you want to be added to the taglist!)

END NOTES: Honestly, this series is too fun for me not to make a part 2. I think I fangirled 90 times while making this (Narumi and Hoshina are sexy, sexy men).

#kaiju no. 8 #kn8 #kaiju no. 8 x reader #kn8 x reader #kaiju no. 8 fluff #kn8 fluff #narumi gen #gen narumi #gen narumi x reader #narumi gen x reader #narumi x reader #gen x reader #hoshina soshiro #soshiro hoshina #hoshina soshiro x reader #soshina hoshiro x reader #soshina x reader #hoshiro x reader #⟢ : maru’s writing !! ࿔*:･

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atyourmerci · 6 months

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☀︎To the light is to the darkness✩

Abby X reader X Ellie

Prologue to vengeance (can be read alone)

☀︎ ☀︎

Summary: Abby is your childhood best friend, you did everything together, taught each other everything. You were utterly infatuated with each other until Ellie Williams enters your world.

Warning: smut, MDNI, porn w lots of plot, innocence arc, mutual pining, lots of sexual tension, mutual masturbation (in the same room, together), fingering if you squint, useless lesbians, lesbian love triangle, abby needs a hug, phoebe bridgers as her own warning, no use of y/n, no physical description of reader

A/N: okay so holy fuck did I get carried away with this one. I didn’t want to leave yall on a cliffhanger but this dynamic deserves more and I don’t want to rush through it. I hope yall enjoy. This chapter is mostly just abby but there will be lots more Ellie in the next chapter promise :)

✩ ✩

“Someone you couldn’t lose. You said we’re not together, so now when we kiss I have anger issues.”

She asked when it had all started. The truth was you weren’t really sure. There was no definitive date or period of time that signified the beginning or end of it.

A relationship that felt more of interlacing two souls into one that resided in two structures. Shared autonomy of mind, breath, word, and body. Unspoken feelings, touches, and stares.

What started in green fields of pink flowers and brown roots ended in dark rooms and pining embraces. Hand shakes turning into interlaced fingers, laughter filled glances turning into tense stares, and experimental pecks turning into open mouthed pants.

The first time you meet abby was at school at 15. Bright eyed and bushy tailed still untainted from the reality of the world around you. You were quite shy in those years, keeping yourself away from the wild hairs of children ready to grow up and take charge. You were okay with the stability of childhood, the sticky sweet feeling of safety and uncharted terror.

Before Abby’s dad had died, before the muscles and long locks of golden blonde hair she was reserved too. Abby was wrapped in a bubble of comfort, a loving community that doted on her. She felt no need to join the crowd of chaos when she had everything she needed.

Well she thought she did…and then she met you.

In class you had your face shoved into a notebook doodling away of ferns and dandelions you had seen in the fields early that day. If it were up to you, you’d spend every last dying breath in the fields, soaking in sunlight and trailing your fingers through the rows of flowers.

Abby sat next to you in class, always too shy to speak up to you. You always seemed so busy, either reading, drawing, or with your head in the clouds, never truly listening to the lecture ahead. She admired your creativity, attention to detail, and the utter sense of unawareness to your surroundings. She wondered why you didn’t talk to the others, you were so inviting, so pretty. She once wished to look like you, how effortlessly magnificent you looked.

She grew too curious, over zealous at the thought of being close to you, understanding you. She knew she had to speak up.

“H-hey you draw pretty cool- I mean- it’s really good…what you draw.”

You had never taken more than a glance at the freckled girl until then. She always seemed just as busy as you, so you never bothered her.

You let out a bellied laugh at the now crimson red faced girl- completely embarrassed by her attempt at recognition.

And that was that. The two of you were inseparable, attached at the hip from then on out.

Abby seemed to understand your weird quirks and odd fascinations. Even when she didn’t, she was there open minded and wide eyed to hear your lengthy ramblings on about nothingness.

Sometimes it felt like you did most of the talking. Not that it was one sided or you wouldn’t let her butt in, but rather she was completely enamored by what you thought. Sometimes all she wanted to do was to hear you talk, you were her favorite person, the own mold of herself.

She wanted to think what you thought, feel what you felt, see the world through your eyes.

As the years went on you only seemed to grow closer to abby as she grew fonder of you.

Some could call it an obsession, the way you treated each other. Not a single thought went by that the other didn’t know. If you were there, so was abby. If you knew something, so did she.

Everyday she would follow you to the fields after school, your special escape you’d learn to share with the other half of your being.

You’d make her lay across the flower ridden fields so you could draw her glistening hair kissed by the whisk of wind. She let her hair grow longer since you’d ask to braid it for her every morning. She liked it short but she wanted to let you have room to make intricate designs and lace them with weeds you’d found.

Abby would playfully nudge you when you’d draw the hump on her nose in the drawings, but you loved it too much to not appreciate it. You loved all the things she couldn’t in herself.

You two spent hours out in the field daily, even when it rained you’d make her dance around like fairies as mud splattered across your shins. Anything you wanted, she’d do as long as it was with you.

That’s when you asked her to try kissing, she’d obliged.

“Have you ever…kissed anyone?” You ask staring off into the cloud painted sky, tall grass framing your bodies.

She lets out a breathy giggle, “no… you would know if I did.”

You shrug, shoulder crashing gently into hers, “I don’t know, maybe it was too embarrassing to say.”

She trails off, “h-have you?”

“No dumbass you would know…” you push your shoulder into her turning to give her a toothy smile, “what if I’m not good when a boy kisses me?”

Her eyes remained trained onto the pillowy cloud, “you can try on me- I-if you want to.”

It was a good idea, she wasn’t going to judge you, she was your best friend, she was only there to help.

“Okay.” And without a second thought your upper body shot up and lent over hers, pressing your lips into her plush pink ones. It was gentle, only a placement amongst the flesh, yet so charged. Butterflies fluttered through your stomach and up to your throat, something you had only felt once before when you and abby went swimming.

Closeness you thought. Being close to someone causes that. How nice it was to be so close to your favorite person, maybe one day you could feel close to someone again.

After that you continued to experiment kissing. At sleepovers you’d talk about the boys you wanted to kiss, then show each other how you would kiss them. It turned into an innocent routine, pecking her before she would leave, kissing her in the fields when you felt the butterflies.

You’d told her about them- the fluttering in your stomach. Whenever you felt them she told you that she wanted to feel them too. Transferring them through the soft pink flesh, she’d say she’d feel them after.

Soon she’d tell you when she got them, to which you’d return the gesture back. As time went on, the butterflies came more often.

People were starting to notice the relationship, started talking about how close the two of you were. You’d shoo off the irrational comments and over zealous accusations, but abby never did. She just didn’t respond.

“Who am I to ask for more? But you’re breathing in my open mouth. You’re the gun in my lips that will blow my brains out.”

Abby started spending the night daily, she practically lived in your room at that point. After her dad died your relationship grew stronger than ever. In such a treacherous time she clung to the only person who truly understood her. Many a nights she spent huddled into a ball in your lap weeping as you smoothed the hair behind her ear and rubbing circles into the grown muscles in her back.

Abby had taken to working her emotions out in physical labor. Now being a solider full time out of school she had grown muscular and more rough. Her heart was still the same for you, but had grown caged off to the people around you.

Her pleasantries for the rest of the community had grown stale, only allowing a few to get near her. But you… there was always an indefinite spot inside her for you.

Since abby was always around now, in the darkness of every night, privacy had flown right out the window. Not that you had minded- there wasn’t much of really anything abby didn’t know or hadn’t seen.

But when that eery sense of familiarity crept up, when the butterflies would come at night.

She had started out sleeping on the extra bed in your room. Before she had practically moved in she’d sleep with you, but since her stay turned to no vacancy she’d taken to given you the last sense of space, even when you hadn’t asked.

In the middle of darkness as the crickets chirped outside the window you’d tell her the feeling had come back, and she’d always agree, and the room would fall silent again.

“Abby?” You call out to a darkened room, illuminated by the shine of the moon.

“Yeah?” She’d call back from the other side.

“Do you ever…fix the feelings of the butterflies. Like make them go away?”

“Uh yeah- sometimes…when it gets bad.”

“I think mine are…bad right now,” it felt embarrassing almost, there was nothing she could do to help, fix your issue. Transferring the butterflies to abby only made them worse sometimes, and you were boiling.

“M-mine too,” she admits.

“You can fix it- if you need to.”

“A-re you going to stop yours?”

“Is that okay?” You say reluctantly into the tense air coating you. Every slight move felt with a million nerves.

“Mhmm,” she responds, a rustling heard coming from her direction.

Soft hums filled the air from the feeling of release you had allowed yourself in the presence of your best friend. Abby’s breathy moans would only follow quickly after your own, never before.

Dual release become a routine. Allowing the sticky sweet sensations of climaxing in the same bedroom of your other half. It became another thing you shared with her, another check on the list of the endeavors you’d participated in with her.

Talks of the butterflies and the unleashing of them never left those four chipping walls. Some things were meant for just Abby’s ears. All best friends must do the same. You’d never heard of others talk of sorts so you sealed your lips, a secret kept like a bird in a cage.

As you both had grown accustomed to the routine things gradually got more intense. Sometimes you couldn’t get the butterflies to fly away even when you tried for hours, panting out whimpers of frustration. Even when they would go away sometimes they would crept back in immediately, your body unable to be satiated.

Abby begun sleeping in the bed with you, to calm the frustrating unnerve you felt after no avail. She’d tell you she wish she could help you, make them go away. She’d do anything to make you happy.

That’s when you started touching yourselves next to each other. The routine was upheld for so long that it felt natural to do it even when she was right next to you. First fully covered, then in undergarments, to finally completely bare.

Seeing Abby’s bare flesh only made it worse. You weren��t stupid, the pieces were falling into place before your eyes. But you hadn’t seen anyone else naked before, maybe it would be the same. Her flesh so pale, her nipples shades of pale pink roses, and the hair that trailed down to her folds as golden as wheat. You had never seen something so magnificent, so beautifully crafted.

That was something you didn’t share with her. The drawings of her bare flesh. You made sure to memorize each chisel, line, and freckle to be as accurate as possible once you got to your notebook. With every piece of her revealed opening thousands of opportunities to draw her art. She was so fucking beautiful.

“When was the first time?” The auburn girl had asked you.

It all had meshed into a blur, what had happened and when it did. When you and abby had started sleeping together it started on opposite ends. Heat not close enough to sting your flesh but the air still tense enough to be cut clean with a blade. As time grew on and the routine becoming daily, the space between you started to close in. Knees brushing as your legs wavered, arms transferring sticky sweat in the blistering heat of arousal.

The inevitable placement of foreheads touching as you watched each other fall apart, watching the butterflies flutter out of her throat with every pant.

From what you could call the ‘beginning’ of sorts, rather an act of mercy, came from her.

You found yourself in the familiar position of unnerve. Rubbing aimless quick circles on your abused clit. It became a matter of principle at the point, needing to fulfill the urge even knowing the outcome would leave you more helpless than before. Abby’s butterflies were far gone, now rubbing lazy stripes down her slit in attempt to not let you feel alone. She never wanted you to feel like she wasn’t completely enthralled by your every move.

Your leg sprawled across her own, wide open, bucking your hips into the air as you let out frustrated grunts, eyes sealed shut in concentration. She just watched. She loved watching you touch yourself. Abby felt like the luckiest girl in the world getting to watch you, kiss you, feel you. She wanted to feel more of you, every atom in your body she’d kiss if you’d allow it.

“Let me help” she said, eyes trained on your open mouth.

Your brain was too fuzzy to even comprehend the depth of the act, so pent up and eager.

“Mhmm,” was all you could muster up. As her calloused fingers transferred from her skin to your abdomen, your body jolted up. You had never been touched by another. Not like this. She took her time running the tips of her fingers from your side to the mound, taking your hand and moving it your thigh so she could replace it with her own.

Something deep in your belly erupted when you felt her fingers meet your clit. A flock of doves released from their cage, a gasping goldfish meeting water. An exaggerated sigh of relief came out as a depraved moan. Every nerve in your body heightened by her gentle touch.

She drew cautious and attentive swipes across the newly swollen bud, watching for when your breath would hitch.

“You’re so warm,” she said studying your face as it contorted in pleasure. Your chin raised high, burying your scalp into the frilly pillows below. She had then studied the flesh around your neck, oh why had she never noticed that. How thin the skin was there, how close she could get to you in that space.

“I-it feels b-better when you do it,” you admit to her, water in her hands, hips grinding into the soft touch of her. “Y-yeah really?” She says, perking up, so pleased with knowing she could make you feel better. She’d do anything to make you feel better.

You let your stagnant hand run down her chiseled chest to meet her mound, her sticky slit pooling at her core. You meant to return the favor, an eye for an eye. “It’s okay- just let me help you.”

You shook your head in agreement, but let your hand rest on the pulsing flesh, you wanted to feel her like she felt you.

With every gentle circle she took you closer to release. It was so much faster when she did it. When you did it together before you would lie there for hours flicking at the raw skin to no avail, but in minutes she had you tipping at your edge.

Her strokes felt akin to the ones on your notebook, gentle and cautious direction, seeking a desirable outcome. You’d thought to picture this, able to recreate this on paper shielded from her eyes. What would she think if she saw them? Maybe you’d grown too fond of the other half of your heart.

“Abby!” You scream out, nearing your pending release.

“Y-yeah? D-does it feel okay- are you okay?” She perks up in concern, helplessly worried she had hurt you.

“Yes- Yes! It- it’s coming,” you pant out, body slick with sweat as your arousal pools below you. A sloppy mess of bodies interlaced with remorseless pleasure.

“Let me feel them, I want to feel them,” abby says inches from your face, intently watching the contortions of your face below her. The butterflies, oh how she wished she could flutter in your tummy as they do so effortlessly.

You cave shamelessly, pressing into the soft pink flesh. You try to keep them stable, but as you reach the cliffs edge you can’t help but moan pathetically into her throat. Your hips thrust into the calloused fingers, chasing the lasting feelings of her, escaping your doom and passing the burden through your lips onto hers.

You did draw of this, and every time after that. It became an obsession, mental images snapshotted to accuracy for replication later.

The routine increased in frequency and intensity. Exploring each other’s most sacred places. She would let you touch her sometimes, but only when she was touching you. Abby seemed more interested in your pleasure than her own. But she cared about you, she never wanted you unsettled. She wanted to be your salvation.

“I ask you how you’re doing and I let you lie. But we don’t have to talk about it, I can walk you home and practice method acting. I’ll pretend being with you doesn’t feel like drowning.”

“Does she make you feel them?”

She asked when it had all started. The truth was you weren’t really sure. There was no definitive date or period of time that signified the beginning or end of it.

Ellie Williams was so…vulgar, erratic, a ticking time bomb. The pieces of the puzzle connected at last when you lied eyes on the auburn haired girl.

She had entered the WLF as gentle as a bomb to a building. Fiery hot attitude, a chip on her shoulder, and drowning green eyes. At first glance she utterly captivated your ever fleeting thoughts.

When she first walked through the corridors of the stadium your eyes fixed on her, staring rudely at her every move. “Who is that, the girl?” You ask the unfazed blonde next to you, too busy working at sharpening a blade, “names Ellie, they say she’s trouble. By the looks of her, checks out.”

“What did she do? Why is she here?” You continue your glare, taking note of the pink scare rippled along the crest of her eye.

You had never drawn anyone other than abby, but the girls features were so strong, the strokes would come naturally in your grasp. A secret muse possibly, even from a far.

“I don’t know- stay away from her. She reeks of trouble,” she’d remark, finishing off the blade and leading you off to a pending mission.

You tried, you really did. She was so compelling, and you? You were a bee to honey. Was she soft unlike her features? Did she speak of the world beyond her? Did she like to watch the clouds mesh into unlikely objects? Did she know of the butterflies and their ever present existence in your lungs?

Your notebook grew of only her, the short frayed hair, the pink scare, the freckles that littered her face. So effortlessly magnificent she was, unknowingly your own secret work of art.

Until abby found them.

Related to this work

Song lyrics: casual , waiting room , cool about it

Moodboard

If you enjoy the childhood best friend trope with abby highly recommend this fic by @kieranscaren she writes beautifully and gave me great inspiration for this work:)

Taglist: @wishbones999 @bookpagecandlescent @littlegingerperson5 @lookforthelight1 @fict1onallyobsessed @shewantstoknow @a-little-bit-of-everybody

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klaus-littlestwolf · 30 days

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The Chase-Alpha!Aemond

(This is an Omegaverse fic. I was asked several times to write something with Aemond and chasing/predator-prey as well as something with Alpha!Aemond and this is what came of it. Honestly Alpha!Aemond is probably my favorite Alpha that I write for. I hope everyone that asked for this enjoys it and in the future I’m always happy to receive Alpha!Aemond requests.)

Warning: Primal Kink (predator/prey/chase), A/B/O Dynamics, Knotting, heavy smut, Alpha!Aemond threatening everyone

Viserys decided to make a big deal out of it. Rhaenyra’s only daughter was coming of age (all children presenting on their 18th name-day). He loved his granddaughter to death and wanted it to be special, even though she hated parties and crowds of people with a passion.

Most of the time you could tell what someone was going to present as just from their personalities, Alphas always being stronger personalities, usually cocky and tough. Both Daemon and Aemond were known to be Alphas before presenting. (The only Targaryen Alphas currently in the world). Omegas were sweet and kind, usually very soft, however there had never been a Targaryen Omega before, at least since the Doom.

Y/n didn’t present until the afternoon just before the celebration started, everyone shocked to find out that the Princess was the first Targaryen Omega in over 1000 years. It was that much more to celebrate in the sickly Kings eyes and the party went on, Daemon spending most of the evening with his daughter to ensure the room of Alphas keeps their hands to themselves.

Y/n was annoyed. She was hot, and tired, and finished putting up with all of these Alphas trying to speak to her, all of the noble houses ready to put forth their Alpha sons for an alliance with House Targaryen the first day she presents like no one cares to let her acclimate to her new existence at all. They had all been prepared to put forth their Beta sons at the assumption she would present as such, however since she didn’t she had no choice. An Omega can only be mated by their Alpha, a law made by the Targaryens long ago when Alphas in the realm were assaulting Omegas any time they pleased, leading to babies that were sick and deformed (the only reason Aegon the Conqueror ordered their protection supposedly though most people believe it was because it how much he loved his Omega sister wife). Now all of the noble houses will be praying that she will be the mate of a member of their house, she will end up spending an entire day smelling a line of Alphas and odds are never find hers…it will be torture.

By late that evening she had decided to be finished with the party and go to bed. She made her way out the servants entrance and down the halls of the Red Keep, making her way to the library to find a book for the night. She wasn’t in there searching for 5 minutes when she smelled it, the heavy, woodsy scent that filled her nose was amazing. She knew instantly what it was, even if it hadn’t been for the jarringly loud growl that came along with the Alphas scent. Never in a million years would she have expected her Alpha to just so happen to be here and yet here she is. She hadn’t been an Omega for more than a few hours, she had no idea what to do, she hadn’t even spoken to her mother about Omega mating as there was no chance it would be relevant in her life but now in this moment, the only thing she could think to do was turn towards the door and run.

It was only at that moment as she was sprinting down the corridors that she remembered the horror stories told to her by her brothers as a child. The ones of Alphas hunting down their Omegas. An Omega running from them triggered their hunting instincts and they would give chase until they caught their mate, the Alpha had no control over it. If only she had been an Omega for more than just a few hours, maybe she would have remembered that.

Y/n turned down a corridor where she knew a servants hallway to be, no one just visiting the Keep would know anything about it and she quickly moved the tapestry that it resides behind, sprinting down the hallway and towards the exit. She stumbled, nearly falling off of her heels which she quickly kicked off as she ran, not willing to break an ankle, pausing as she came to the door to the gardens the servants used to serve lunches out there discreetly. She was panting heavily, trying to catch her breath when she heard shoes hitting the stone floor behind her and yanked open the door, continuing her run. All she had to do was get to her Dragon that slept on the beach, her ghostly mount not willing to reside in the pits or be around any other humans but his rider. If she could get to Ghost she would be safe in the sky, at least until she had to come back down but it would give her time to gather her thoughts…or flee to Dragonstone and never return…yes. She liked that option.

That is exactly what she did as she stumbled onto the beach and saw her Dragons head pop up. He bared his teeth, clearly realizing that his rider was in distress and he stretched, spreading his wings. He lowered his head and she hopped onto him as quickly as she could, never happier for his smaller stature than in that moment, standing about three quarters the size of Caraxes and very slender.

Her father had loved that his daughter had mounted the Grey Ghost, enjoying the idea that she could easily protect herself from other dragons (such as Vhagar) by going unseen in a cloud bank for as long as it took for others to leave. He also suggested that if it were ever necessary that she would be a good spy in the same way, able to see what others were doing and still hide so as not to be spotted. Rhaenyra was insistent that it would never be needed but Daemon trained her for it regardless.

‘Aderī Ghost! Sōves!’ She shouted, the dragon already prepared to take off and leaping into the air quickly, roaring out a loud warning to whatever his human had been running from as he flew away. Once over the water Y/n looked back, expecting to see an angry Alpha on the beach watching her fly away but there was no one. (Quickly Ghost! Fly!)

She did not slow Ghost all the way back to Dragonstone, happy to be home as soon as they landed in the courtyard. The staff was very small as no one was currently home and so she ordered Ghost to be fed before making her way into the castle and finding her bedroom where she requested a bath.

Y/n felt much better after a long soak in the scalding hot water to ease her sore muscles, running was something she already hated and her calves would hate her in the morning. The maid had been given the night off and so she dried off and dressed herself in her small clothes for bed, prepared to send a raven to her mother in Kings Landing to tell her what happened when she heard the loud roar of a dragon that definitely wasn’t hers. She considered it for a moment and came to the realization that only Daemon could have gotten here so fast, it would have taken time to realize Ghost was gone and then Caraxes is the only one who could fly almost as fast as her small lithe dragon could. The roar didn’t sound like Caraxes usually did though, it was much deeper.

As she made her way out of her chamber and through the halls to greet her father she stopped as she turned, seeing a much different person at the end of the hallway. ‘Aemond? W-What are you doing here, Uncle?’ She had been close with her Uncle in their childhood but the night that Luke maimed him had ended that sadly, whether either of them wanted it to or not, their mothers were adamant that they no longer speak.

It was at that moment that she was overcome by the smell again and her eyes widened as she realized what was happening. She hadn’t gotten away at all, just fled somewhere that no one would find them. ‘Hasn’t anyone ever told you not to run from your Alpha, Byka Zaldrīzes?’ He questioned, her old nickname sending a chill down her spine as his scent set her body on edge. (Little Dragon)

‘I’ve been an Omega for half a day…no one has said much of anything…please don’t do this, Aemond? Kostilus Kepus?’ She knew it would make no difference, he couldn’t stop now and she knew that as he had been stepping closer since the moment she opened her mouth. (Please Uncle?)

‘I will take care of you Omega…no need to worry.’ His voice was deeper than normal, almost distorted as he spoke, moving forward a bit faster now. He moved to run just as she turned around and sprinted back down the halls. She got into her chambers just as he caught up to her, catching the door before she could shut it and shoving it open, landing her sprawled out on the floor. Moving to crawl under the bed, he slammed the door and caught her ankle, sliding her back out and lifting her abruptly, dropping her back onto the nicely made bed. She whimpered, trying to push his hands away but he shushed her and now this close she could see that his pupils were dilated, nearly taking up his entire eye like that of a dragon. ‘Omega, sweet Omega, My Omega!’ He growled, nuzzling his face into her neck as he yanked his trousers off, shoving her shift up her body and ripping it off in pieces.

‘Aemond! Please, I’m scared, please just wait-‘

‘No! No fear, Alphas right here. Nothing will ever hurt my Omega.’ It was as if he really couldn’t rationalize that it was him she was afraid of as he lined his cock up with her dripping hole and shoved himself into her roughly. The pleasure that rushed through her body as he nuzzled against her scent gland at her neck, his scent fully encompassing her now, dulled the pain of his intrusion. ‘Wanted you so long Byka Zaldrīzes, so long…pretty little Omega.’ He rumbled deep in his chest, enjoying the feeling of being inside of his Omega before he moved.

‘I’ve only been an Omega for a day…’ she muttered as she tried to relax her body that was now desperate for him as well as his scent that was torturing her.

‘I’ve always loved you, Y/n…pretty Omega…’ he growled, thrusting up into her and licking his tongue up the side of her neck. She clutched the soft fabric of his shirt and pulled at it as he moved. ‘I love you so much Mandianna. All mine now, Alpha will protect you…’ (Niece)

‘Kepus! Oh Gods! D-Don’t stop!’ The tingly feeling that was now rushing through her was euphoric, knowing that it’s her Alpha that is rutting into her was more pleasurable than she ever could have imagined.

‘Never! Never going to stop Omega! Alpha will fuck you every day, knock you up so good! Be so pretty all full of my pups! Imagine these full for me, such a good Omega, so fucking perfect!’ He moaned, leaning down to bite along her breasts and leave marks before wrapping his lips around her nipple and suck which gave her more pleasure than she ever expected.

‘Fuck Aemond! Alpha! Want my Alpha in me forever!’

‘Yes Omega! Yours, Your Alpha! Gonna fill you up so good! Made me wait for you so long, almost killed me-‘

‘I’m sorry! So sorry Alpha, I was so-scared-‘

‘No! No more. My Omega will never be scared again, Alphas here. Alpha will protect you! My Omega! Mine-Mine-Fucking Mine!’ He roared, thrusting as deep into her cunt as he could and feeling his knot expand to lock him into her as he came, feeling his Omega cum around him, crying out and clinging to him like the needy Omega she is. ‘Good girl, my good girl.’ He mumbled before burying his fangs into her throat over her scent gland and tasting her sweet blood as he marked her as his mate, feeling her little fangs in his flesh as well.

Aemond held her close as they both fell asleep almost as soon as Aemond pulled the blanket over them, sleeping for the Gods only know how long before awakening to see it was clearly night time. They were both finally fully aware again and thinking clearly, Y/n blushing as she looked up at her Uncle to see him looking at her already.

‘I’m sorry…I didn’t mean to run, I just-‘

‘Shh…it’s alright Byka Zaldrīzes, I know. That party never should have happened, someone should have helped you. It’s not your fault my love.’ He brushed his fingers down her face and along her shoulder, enjoying touching her skin every chance he got seemingly. ‘I apologize for behaving like a brute, it will not happen again, I assure you. I will be gentle with my Omega.’

‘Oh…well I liked it…maybe you don’t always have to be gentle?’ Aemond smirked, leaning close to nuzzle his nose against hers.

‘I will make my mate happy, however you need to be fucked.’ He teased and she glared playfully. ‘You running wasn’t such a bad thing. If you hadn’t we would have been interrupted already.’

‘We’ll still be interrupted-‘

‘Yes but not until they notice in the morning that we’re both gone. Everyone will have assumed you would be exhausted and gone to bed, everyone else will be too drunk to check. When they realize that you’re missing and that both of our dragons are gone as well they will figure it out I’m sure…at least Otto and Daemon will, I’m not sure about anyone else. However by then you will most definitely be carrying my pups and we will be dragged back to Kings Landing.’ He joked but she knew he was right. ‘I love you Y/n…I’ve always loved you…Marry me.’ He said suddenly and she looked up at where he now was leaning over her and smiled.

‘I don’t think I have a choice.’ She laughed but he didn’t seem to like that.

‘I want you to be my wife because you love me as I love you. I loved you before I was ever an Alpha and-‘

‘Yes. I love you too Kepus. I always have…’ Y/n reached up to his face and took hold of the eye patch that he had slept in before removing it and tracing her thumb along his scarred cheek. ‘I never stopped loving you Aemond.’

‘My sweet Omega.’ He pulled her closer and nuzzled into her throat as he heard the soft purr that escaped her chest at just about the same time that his knot finally went down and he could move again.

Aemond fucked his Omega twice more before allowing her to rest, sleeping on his chest for the rest of the night.

He had been correct of course, not only Daemon but Rhaenyra and surprisingly Aegon arrived on Dragonstone early that morning just after the sun came up, barging into Y/n’s chambers and startling the newly mated couple awake.

‘Y/n! Are you alright, my Darling?!’ Her mother demanded, rushing to the side of the bed and taking her face into her hands as they both sat up.

‘I am fine mother. I promise, my Alpha has taken wonderful care of me.’ Rhaenyra eyed Aemond but Aemond was focused now on Daemon and Aegon, the ladder of which was staring straight at his Omegas exposed chest prompting him to growl loudly.

‘If you do not avert your eyes brother, you will cease to have use of them ever again.’ And for once, Aegon listened, knowing that in this case his brother was not exaggerating in any way. He would carve his eyes out of his skull if he continued to ogle his Omega, prompting Aegon to turn around quickly. ‘You as well, Uncle. Turn.’ He warned, Daemon glaring back at him.

‘I’m her father.’ He snarled.

‘Yes, you are. And an Alpha all the same, Turn!’ Daemon looked ready to reach for his sword just as Aemond stiffened, prepared to jump onto him when Rhaenyra spoke up.

‘You wanted a protective mate for her, now she has one. Give our daughter her privacy and turn Husband!’ She snapped and finally Daemon did as he was told. ‘What happened my Darling, why are you here instead of in your chambers or even Aemond’s. You had us so worried!’

‘I am sorry mother. I…I didn’t mean to but when I walked into the library and smelled Aemond I didn’t know who it was and…I ran…’ Rhaenyra’s eyes went wide and she looked at Aemond, instantly concerned. ‘He didn’t hurt me mother. He was a bit frantic at first but it was my fault-‘

‘That is not your fault Byka Zaldrīzes, no one told you anything and you were scared. That is never your fault, you are perfect.’ Aemond assured her, taking her hand into his and kissing it sweetly.

‘My brother is correct my Darling, I should have prepared you for the possibility. I just never considered that it could even be a possibility. I am sorry…so you ran from your Alpha and came here with Ghost?’ Y/n nodded her head.

‘When I realized what she was doing I stopped running after her, I knew I wouldn’t catch her and that her dragon may just set me ablaze if he felt how scared she was-‘

‘That was a good idea. Ghost was pretty angry the moment he awoke. He always knows how I feel and he has killed 6 separate guards for coming too close to us when we’re together…and one other one for being in my room and startling me.’ His Omega explained, pointing to the wall on the opposite side of the doors to her balcony. ‘He was very quick I admit, he landed on the railing and burned him. By the time my parents arrived he had shoved himself through the doors and was taking up most of the room with his head on my bed here. My dragon is extremely protective of me…though I doubt he could fit through the doors any longer, he barely could before. Squeezing him back out was a nightmare.’ She giggled, Aemond looking shocked but Y/n could also feel that he was happy as well.

‘Good. Dragons have always been more protective when they’re bonded to Omegas, rare as it is. They’re also more protective of their riders Omegas, which means you will have nothing to fear from Vhagar as well…anyway, instead of chasing her to the beach I grabbed a horse and went to Vhagar. She is large but she could never keep up with how fast Ghost is, I arrived an hour after her-‘

‘Hour and a half I would say. I had a bath before he arrived. I’m honestly thankful for it, I felt disgusting covered in all those Alphas scents from the party.’ All at once Y/n realized all of those Alphas that she hadn’t met yet were still waiting for exactly that. ‘Mother! Please tell me I don’t have to meet anymore of them, please? They smell horrendous and I-‘ Rhaenyra shushed her immediately while Aemond rumbled out a soft growl, pulling his Omega closer.

‘No my Darling, your father will make the announcement that you have found your Alpha and none of them will be willing to come near you. We do need to get back though, the party is still in effect and the King demands both of your presence. Get dressed, I will go and have the staff move your things to a larger room for the both of you here.’ Her mother kissed her head before leaving the room with Daemon, Aegon who had yet to move spoke up before closing the door.

‘I didn’t know you had it in you brother. I’m so proud.’ Aemond grumbled but Y/n held onto his arm to stop him from going after his retreating brother. ‘You’re welcome by the way, lovely Niece, without me your “Alpha” wouldn’t even have known where to put it. I’m so happy that I could be of service-‘ just as Aemond was about to lunge at his brother who was ready to close the door behind him he was struck in the face by a large book making the Prince yelp, slamming the door behind him.

‘Are you alright?’ Y/n asked and her Alpha nodded, pulling her close and roughly kissing her, loving her assault on his brother and her clear defense of him.

‘That was wonderful, nice shot.’ He grinned, kissing her again only to have his hands grabbed before he could take her hips.

‘We will have all the time in the world later but we have to get back, I promise you I am all yours all night.’

‘Good.’ Aemond growled. ‘Because you are not getting away like this from now on, your mornings are all mine.’ He teased, nipping her scent gland before allowing her to move and get dressed.

He didn’t allow her to “clean up”, insisting she smell like him for the rest of the party, God forbid one of those young, stupid Alphas decides to try his luck.

Aemond had tried to get his Omega to fly with him and while he was determined to make it happen, Ghost was not up for it today as he started screaming when his rider walked passed him with only a nose pet. In the end she kissed her Alpha and met Vhagar (who seemed to like her considering she’s the only one the 180 year old dragon hasn’t tried to burn for touching her) before climbing onto her own dragon who tolerated Aemond.

Viserys was thrilled to find that his son and granddaughter were mated, almost every single one of the Alphas would not even meet her gaze once Daemon announced the news, though a few of them still stared. One Alpha boy actually attempted asking her for a dance while her Alpha spoke to his mother, forcefully kissing her hand before having his face slammed into the table and allowing her to hear his bones crack. No male of any designation approached her after that. Apart from Peter of course, who was an Omega as well, Aemond having no problem with his presence at all. They became fast friends and Peter actually became her hand maid, since an Omega needs an Omega for such a task and most are already mated, Y/n was happy for him to have the job.

Everything considered, Y/n figured it could have been much worse had her Alpha been anyone else. She was happy with Aemond as her Alpha knowing that she was safe and though she would have to spend her days keeping her brothers out of trouble with her Alpha, it was worth it.

Aemond eventually dragged her from the party (though he didn’t have to try very hard), carrying her back to their shared chambers and spending the rest of the day and night locked inside-Peter being the only one allowed in to bring their meals.

No one was surprised when 2 months later they discovered that she was pregnant, Aemond determined to keep her that way for the rest of their lives on Dragonstone. He adapted to life there fairly quickly and became his Omegas “official” personal guard and that was where they remained until Viserys passed-Otto and Alicent not even daring to attempt to steal Rhaenyra’s throne without Aemond and Vhagar under their thumb. He took orders from a different Queen now, and it definitely wasn’t his sister.

Mandianna-I believe translates to (from what I can tell after way too much research trying to get it right) “Older Sisters son/daughter” (no gender)

Aemond T. Masterlist

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astrolovecosmos · 8 months

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The 5th House + Romantic Themes/Tropes

Aries in the 5th House: Knight or hero saving their damsel in distress, competitor suitors, "bad boy/bad girl" with "nice guy/girl" dynamics, queen/princess saving the king/prince, a hard to catch chase, red roses and red lipstick, athlete or warrior connected love story, second chance love stories, couple vs. nature or unknown as they pioneer a new frontier, lingerie, things move fast, "no one else like you", fated lovers, lover's quarrels, innocent love, first loves, love at first sight.

Taurus in the 5th House: Worshipping each other's bodies, making love in nature, paradise themes, fancy venues, luxury, secret prince/billionaire stories, Cinderella-like stories, seduction, sensuality, aphrodisiacs, massages, the fastest way to their heart is through the stomach, willpower, ugly duckling themes, silk and cashmere, kisses on the neck, serenading, rose petals on the bed.

Gemini in the 5th House: Friends to lovers, pretend relationship tropes, sexting, online dating stories, pen pal lovers, long distance relationships, romantic academia, coffee dates, study dates, eloquence, unexpected softness, talking dirty, rivalries to lovers, Kama Sutra, twists and turns, love letters, vocalness, teasing, arguments.

Cancer in the 5th House: Old friend or flame love stories - maybe similar to second chances, parent trap themes, moonlight, waterfalls, ocean waves, baths, intimacy in the shower, cuddles, feeling wanted or needed, private or secret lovers, waterbeds, remembering and celebrating important dates like anniversaries and birthdays, sentimental love, nurturing their lover back to health themes, pearls and silver, traditional love themes, Romeo and Juliette, Titanic vibes, homecooked meals or lunches, long hugs.

Leo in the 5th House: Holiday romances or flings, everyone else can see how fated or good they are with someone - but they themselves are oblivious, wine, dance floors, flattery, adoration, gold, luxury, sex on the beach, roleplay, hot-blooded passion, romance that involves royalty, center of attention, turns heads, strip tease, mirror on the ceiling, professing undying love, great adventures, drama galore or a love worthy of the stage.

Virgo in the 5th House: High School sweethearts, devoted lover who does a service or keeps a promise for a dead partner, defending someone's honor or being defended, saving their lover from a bad partner or ex, loyal servant and royalty loves, light tracing, tickling, taking care of someone or nurturing them back to health, sexy outfits, plenty of praise and appreciation, couple's spa day or massage, attentive, caring, the details in love matter.

Libra in the 5th House: Love triangle stories, masquerades, balls, Parisian love stories or themes, opposites attract, wedding related romances (meeting at a wedding or stopping a wedding), lovers against the odds, love potions, star-crossed lovers, matchmaking, sunsets, pastels, clouds, rivals or enemies to lovers but with grace or focus on making peace, sensual moments, biting lips, charm counts for something, perfume, candles, oils, flower petals, champaign, strawberries or cherries, feathers, cliche seduction, inspirational love, love and art, love songs.

Scorpio in the 5th House: Enemies to lovers, dark romances, horror and romance, forbidden love, secret romances, "if I can’t have you, nobody will", vampires, magic or the occult, Phantom of the Opera, passionate kisses and touch, lingerie, naked, bondage, power, vulnerability, jealousy or possessiveness themes, leather, being by or in water, strong taste and fragrances, avenging your hurt or dead lover or being avenged, dark fantasies, secluded romantic places, overcoming fears or challenges together, psychology, villains and heroes, transformative love stories.

Sagittarius in the 5th House: Lovers from very different cultures or backgrounds, eloping, loveable rogue themes, fish out of water stories, deep thoughts and discussions, speed dating, daredevils and calling bluffs, adventure, "I can show you a whole new world", exotic romantic places, escaping with your lover, hotel rooms, casino or game nights, learning together, discovering something new about their lover frequently, lucky to find each other, free-spirited love, surprises and passion.

Capricorn in the 5th: Force proximity stories, love that grows or takes time, time-travel romance, historical romances, secret romances, age gap themes, gothic themes, consistency, lotion and oils, romantic music, power dynamics, fine wine, wealth and luxury, secret prince/billionaire stories, earthy and erotic, punishment and submission themes, respect and grace, powerful libidos, leather, antique or fine jewelry, beautiful crystals or gems, great smiles or teeth, unique bouquets, careful lovers.

Aquarius in the 5th House: Sci-fi romance themes, unconventional dynamics or roles, time-travel romance, beautiful minds and/or beloved geniuses, light touch, substances to enhance experiences or feelings, incense or candles, anything goes, the unexpected, unique gifts or romantic gestures, romance that shows how much their lover knows them, rebel lovers, acceptance, deep talks, mind melds, fetishes, spiritual and/or mental challenges, unique beauty, each partner doing their own thing, their lover being the only one to arouse passion in them or vice versa.

Pisces in the 5th House: Running to catch up to their lover at the airport, amnesia related love stories, hopeless romantic, poetry, daydreaming, soulmates, finding a muse or being one, kissing in the rain, foot massages, love songs, satin sheets, skinny dipping, oysters, champagne, roses, making fantasies come to life, eternal promises and fidelity, loving life and love, overly idealistic love stories, fairytales, healing themes, intuitive lovers or psychic connections.

#5th house #zodiac #astrology #romance #natal chart #aries #taurus #gemini #cancer #leo #virgo #libra #scorpio #sagittarius #capricorn #aquarius #pisces

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moondirti · 1 year

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animalic (3)

← chapter two // series masterlist

pairing: miguel o'hara x f!reader rating: mature word count: 2.2k summary: he's got a plan that neither of you like warnings: enemies to lovers, predator/prey dynamics, biting, bondage, temporary paralysis, concussions, miguel is not nice, no use of y/n notes: this was supposed to be longer but the cut off at the original point was super awkward. this chapter is super exciting for all you fang lovers out there

You really can’t catch a break.

The city bustles with a verve rivalling your own, a kaleidoscope of luminescence dancing upon the glass facades of its skyscrapers. Their spires pierce the ink-dark cloak of night, and if you weren’t so busy running for your life, you’d stop to admire the way their aviation obstruction lights mimic the stars back home.

(Everything has a trade off, you suppose. You remember what it was like as light pollution gave away to reveal the cosmos above, the beauty of it lost upon your own grief.)

Now, it’s fear – clinging like a shadowy spectre to your heels. The pavement is unforgiving beneath you, each step sending a jolt of energy through your bones. Despite it, you can’t go any faster. Sidewalks crowd with the humdrum of everyday life – people filtering out from work and bodegas, dressed in a slightly odd fashion, their clothes a reminder of your unfamiliar landscape. Car horns blend into one another, providing an unsteady tempo to the race of your heart.

It’s disorienting, all of it. Times like these, you wish you’d been given the opportunity to hone your abilities. Stamina, flexibility. Web shooters in particular would have proved handy in avoiding the bustle of the ground.

Of course, he has that advantage on you too.

You can’t see Miguel, but you sense his proximity. It prods you, nipping at your flesh in a constant assault, intensifying goosebumps and raising hairs. Your spider sense usually doesn’t last this long, solely serving as a warning for immediate danger. Yet that’s just what he is, immediate. Dangerous. Predatory eyes track your every move, sourced from all directions. He’s everywhere; atop buildings, within alleys. Neon signs morph into twisted apparitions; serrated talons, red skulls.

How did he track you down so fast?

The day pass?

You wonder if he’d brought back-up – whether there are other spider-heroes here who trust in his noble cause. Your anxiety triples, and passerby’s begin to warp too. Their hurried footsteps now strike discordant notes, amplifying your isolation. You think you see some tense their wrists, or unbutton their coats, ready to reveal their tailored suits and ensure the capture you’ve managed to evade thus far.

It’s luck. It’s only ever been luck, and that fact changes depending on who you ask. You’ve never outsmarted him, never disabled him. You just so happen to have the power of being a pain in his ass.

Something itches at you, though. A nagging sense of foreboding. His presence in the past has spurred chagrin, annoyance, and – admittedly – arousal. But the genuine terror that lights your nerves now is new. Perhaps because you understand him, are far more familiar with his pride than most. The logical part of you can predict that he won’t let you off so easily, not after your stunt with the kiss. You won’t – can’t – get away this time, even if it damn well nearly kills him.

Any hope you had of a bargain dissipates, rolling back from shore and into the depths of an elusive sea. You jerk the rubber band off your wrist, throwing it into some undisclosed corner.

In a then desperate bid to throw him off, your path loses cohesion. Like a leaf seized by a tempest, you turn based on split-second instinct, weaving through the labyrinth of New York’s grid. Your body sways in frenzy, bolstered by pure adrenaline, which works to dim everything else. Your ribs haven’t fully healed yet – they’d taken a pretty bad beating upon your last fight with Miguel – but you can barely feel the ache as you focus purely on the task at hand.

Your determination surges, recklessness taking hold of your rationale. Veering abruptly, you just about collide with the racing line of cars that flow at a green light. In fact, you think you do. Your skin prickles, and a taxi runs straight through you, blearing a loud honk all the while. Some vehicles break off, drifting around your form at the last minute. In your peripheral, you can see the glowing red of your pursuers web, stretched across the gap between two apartment complexes.

Chest tightening, your breathing loses depth at the sight, shallowing to leave room for the distress that torrents up your system. You clamber up on the hoods of parked cars, using a mast arm pole to propel yourself forward. It’s a fruitless effort. You know it’s too late – have known it since he walked into that convenience, prowling in search of one thing.

(A lion only catches its prey a quarter of the time. But that twenty-five percent?)

Your ankle is the first victim to his hardwearing web, wrapped in the silk and pulled out from underneath you. The back of your head smacks into the concrete below, a high pitched ring reverberating through your skull upon impact. The collision sends a shock wave of pain throughout your being, and in that harrowing moment, everything stutters to a crawl. Spots speckle behind your clenched eyelids, metallic warmth flooding your mouth.

Well, fuck.

To add insult to injury, your atoms rip apart and splice into one another, a consequence of your abandoned day pass. The glitch aggravates the headache that begins to pound at you. You’d allowed yourself to forget how bad it could be.

The willpower that had just played a forefront in your mind steadily starts to trickle out, absorbed by your humiliation and the ground below.

“You really gonna give up that easily?”

Yes.

You make a point to never lie to yourself. In truth, you won’t ever get enough of Miguel’s cadence. Deep and resonant – it smoulders with a charred ruggedness. Commanding attention, rumbling like distant thunder, an unmistakable authority woven into each word. Yet, even amidst the rough contours, there lingers a softness, a subtle grace that soothes the edges of his threats.

(Sharp claws, sharp teeth, sharp cheekbones. Soft voice.)

More webs bind you, erupting from an unclear point to circle your legs, chest, and secure your arms behind your back. You’re diminished to little more than an aggravated caterpillar, ensnared in a spider’s web. And, just as his little game of bondage draws to a close, said spider stalks within view, splitting through the crowd that quickly forms around the commotion.

With his mask on, he stands as completely impenetrable. You, on the other hand, try to reduce your quivering the best you can, afraid of relaying how truly pathetic you feel.

“Maybe I’m biding my time.” You bite back, calling on a complete bluff. “I’m sure you know how good I am at that?” It’s a low blow. Even if you could control when and where to phase out, you wouldn’t get very far before he catches up to you again.

But Miguel doesn’t waver in his closing in – not until he towers over you, looking down at your incapacitated state. Space buckles under the gravity of his existence; you, too, can feel yourself sinking, drawn in closer by the credence that bubbles off him in flares. You wish you had a cover – your pair of makeshift goggles, a face mask, anything that could elevate you to a degree relative to his. But you’re bare, figuratively naked, and you’ve never hated him more.

He lingers, assessing you, weighing his options. The moment he turns to survey the mass of people who look on inquisitively, you wiggle upward into a sitting position, then throw your head forwards, aiming for his crotch. His wrist gets in the way, though, blocking your pitiful attack on his only defenceless area. Your forehead cracks against his dimensional travel watch, shattering its screen.

“Tu puta madre!” Miguel hisses, snapping back to survey the gadget while you begin to slink away. He seems to have an eye on you, however, because you’re tugged back just as soon as you make the effort.

Like a naughty cat. You shift uncomfortably at the thought.

“Are you gonna spend all night deciding what to do with me, then? I have plans, even if you don’t.”

“Plans. I have plans alright.” The low timbre of his threat slices you where it hurts.

With a calculated flex of his shoulders, he crouches down, gathering the webs around your arms. They serve as leverage when he hauls you upward, exercising his muscles – of which you’d suspected had been padding up to this point – with one swift motion. The world upends on itself, nausea enveloping your senses with its oppressive weight. It allows space for little else; not the uncertainty, not the trepidation. You divert all your efforts on keeping your scarce lunch down, accepting the possibility of a concussion by product of his less-than-refined manhandling.

The journey to wherever he takes you is not at all long enough for you to recover. Before you know it, he’s busting through the creaky door of an empty storelot, carelessly tossing you to the floor. Your vision doubles.

Yeah. Definitely a concussion.

Like you could afford one right now.

“You’ll stay, and you’ll listen.” He points an accusatory finger.

“Sure. Until I’ve had enough, that is.”

“And where would you go, exactly?”

“Nice try, O’hara. Like I’d tell you,” Snickering, you let your head roll to face the ceiling. The action sends you back to earlier, to the robbery you’ve been seeking to suppress. How careless you’d been, letting your fortune to date trick you into thinking that any collateral was safe too. You’d killed that woman. You. “Maybe I’ll fall right through the floor. That way, you’ll never have to worry about seeing me again.”

The notion makes him pause mid-pace, hands on his hips, tilting his head to look at you with what you imagine is the most earnest glare. The air bobs, suspended in static tension, a crackling constant that only unravels once he seems to make up his mind.

Marching forward, he drags you along with him to a nearby wall, upon which he then pushes you upward until you have to look down to meet his eyeline. Your bound legs kick forward, but the struggle hardly affects him.

“I didn’t want to resort to this.”

You assume he means treating you like a toddler does its shiny new toy, hurling you across this playpen of a city. “You really didn’t have to, then.”

He stays quiet, fists clenching tighter around you.

“I suppose we’re past the courtesy of letting the other recover from the last fight before starting a new one? My forearm is still fucked, thanks to you. Maybe if you’d given it some time, I would’ve proved more of a challenge today.” Your words, whilst never your most steadfast allies, betray you in lieu of this restlessness, tumbling forth with unruly incoherence.

Miguel's mask pulls back, the nanotech collapsing to just above his adams apple. Your mouth moves faster.

“Okay, I get it. The fate of the multiverse and all that. I’ll listen, whatever you want, but at least try and make the lecture original.”

His hand cups your jaw, tightening around your chin to firmly guide it upwards. Your throat stretches taut at the motion, its smooth expanse spread across the wall – an evening repast for a party of one. The imagery breaks down an all too sobering realisation into fragments small enough for you to register. His talons rest against your cheek, bordering perilously close to your waterline.

Traces of that patchouli aftershave hit you. His skin looks especially bronzed in the dark, highlighted at the edges from the phosphorescence outside. His curls droop where they’re plastered to a sweat slicked hairline.

You can’t help it. Your gaze flickers down to those plush lips.

Fuck. Fuck. It’d felt so good to kiss them.

Please let this just be a kiss.

“O-Or go with the… the usual, y’know. I don’t–”

Miguel lunges, sinking his fangs into the fleshy sinew of your neck.

Christ.

Your jaw hangs open, but no breaths filter in. Shock wedges itself at the site of his bite, implacable, steadfast as a barrier between logic and uninhibited emotion. Your reasoning plays no part in this, provides absolutely no valuable contribution to the series of reactions you undergo.

It’s physical, first. The cold slither of paralytic venom distends through your nerves, neurotoxins striking their functions, rendering them useless beyond the point of sensation. Which, you’d say, is the cruellest part. Miguel’s poison doesn’t stop you from feeling anything; not the puncture, nor the burn. You can truly feel it, trekking its graceful path to all muscles in your body, taking hold of the tissue, suppressing their vitality. Your back arches, your body doing its very best to fight what it cannot prevent. It cracks up your bone, down your spine. Your toes unfurl, fingers loosening to hang lamely at your side.

And, when you lose all executive authority over yourself, you’re pulled in to centre on his mouth again. His canines slowly retract, tongue taking their place. It’s warm – so fucking warm – and dextrous, covertly lathering the blood that beads down your nape.

Your last proper breath is wasted on a whine; a loud, keening, absolutely wanton whine. After it, you can do nothing but hold your flat inhales to cycle in as much oxygen as possible – diaphragm weak, your resolve weaker.

Miguel draws away, letting you slump to the floor, heavy and just as useless as a sack of flour. He wipes the excess carmine from his chin, kneeling to regard your glassy eyed stare.

“Fall through now, and you’re as good as dead.”

(You might as well already be.)

chapter four →

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toxycodone · 3 months

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Chimera!Falin x Reader

an. separated w/ general sfw and nsfw hcs. reader is an adventurer who happens to catch the Red Dragon’s interest….

tw. monster fucking, predator/prey dynamics

sfw.

Now…being a lone adventurer is difficult. Especially in your case. Not only are you prey to almost anything in the dungeon, but you’ve found yourself prey to its most apex predator—The Red Dragon.

Well, at least you think? Oddly enough…for a dragon, it’s very pretty. You don’t remember hearing about it having a human head and torso. With pretty blonde hair and golden eyes…Gods, she’s beautiful…

That’s what you’re thinking in the back of the mind while the Dragon pins you down with one hefty paw. It’s insane how large it is compared to you. One look to the side and you can see the large claw is longer than the length of your head. However, despite this position…it doesn’t hurt, per se. She has enough weigh on you to make you hesitant to breathe too deeply, but, she isn’t killing you….which is odd.

When you finally look to the dragon, you’re shocked to see her so close to your face.

“Not Delgal…” She whispers in a hoarse voice. You don’t know who that is, or why the Dragon or all creatures is looking for this person but…okay. As you brace yourself for what’s next, the Dragon grasps your face in her human ones. They’re soft and plush.

She brings her face to yours and licks a long stipe up it with her forked tongue, cleaning off some semi-dried blood of your companions. Her breath smells slightly coppery as she does so.

“Still good.” She nuzzles into your face, her feathers tickling your skin.

It's fucking weird. And you're not sure if you hate it or you love it. But hey...at least you're alive?

Since then, you've basically become the Dragon's little pet. She doesn't speak much, and you figure it must have something to do with her being some sort of chimera monstrosity, but she at least has the decency to introduce herself to you as Falin.

You also get confronted by Thistle...you thought the elf might help you. But no. He just sighs when he sees Falin drag you along with her. If it makes her happy, he's not arguing against it. Sorry. You're trapped.

But at least Falin is a good caretaker. She watches over you like a hawk. A big, scary, red dragony hawk. Even if you're just sitting around, enjoying the scenery...she just stares. with that disgustingly cute little smile of hers.

When the two of you travel together, she likes it when you ride on her back, but she also stores you in her thick plumage on the front of her body too. Her favorite is to carry you in her own human arms and walk around with you like you're some sort of stuffed animal. It's...kinda adorable. Maybe more cute if you weren't lowkey kidnapped.

If any adventurers dare harm you...it's over for them. You learned quickly to either look away or hide somewhere, because Falgon shows no mercy. As cute and sweet as she can be, she's equally deadly.

And you don't hide very far away...escaping is futile. Plus it becomes a fun game for her. It's literal cat and mouse. She can smell you. Sense you. It doesn't matter. She'll crush walls and buildings to get to you.

And if you run, it makes it worse. She'll catch you like a bug, her scaly front feet cage you in as she pounces on you. Then she just...dangles you and plays with you like a mouse.

She feels bad afterwards. It's hard for Falin to know her own strength in this form. She often accidentally scratches or bruises you. To make up for it, she'll sing a little lullaby and use her healing magic on you. It always lulls you into the most restful slumber you've had, no matter how much pain you're in or how scared you are.

After a little time, things do become oddly? Domestic?

Falin bathes you as often as possible. She likes to help get you clean as a bonding activity. She's really gentle and calm in these moments--the two of you just bathing in a nice dungeon waterfall or somewhere in the golden kingdom.

In return, you help her preen! You gently pick out pin feathers and brush off feather dust while she trills in happiness and coos at you. It's probably one of your favorite things to do as she just hums sweetly and lets you do it. She also likes it when you do her hair (adventurers are definitely left wondering why the Red Dragon has braids or double buns)

She also forages and hunts for you. Little berries? Snack for you! Is there a nice fruit tree on the floor you're exploring? She's hopping up there and picking you enough to eat all day.

Falin also uh. will hunt. After you scold her for dropping a giant monster carcass on you she learns not to do it again but hey? it was kinda funny. From then on she only brings you things she knows you can cook

And as typical...she has a nest. It's not anything crazy, but it's a cozy little thing made of foilage, her feathers, and other soft materials she found in the dungeon. When it's time to go to bed, she lets you lay down first and cuddles around you like a cat. Or she'll let you lay on her and cozy into her feathers. Her soft down feels like a cloud and you just sink in <3 it's adorable.

nsfw.

I'M ON TEAM FALIN CHIMERA DICK.

Since you're her prized treasure...her everything...naturally she views you as her mate.

That means, she gets into ruts. It's only natural for her to want to breed with you, right? Plus, she likes to make you feel good.

However...she is WAY too big to even begin to think to fit inside you. You could probably fucking grapple her if you wanted to. So sex between the two of you is pretty...interesting.

When she trills, the vibrations are intense. If you're sitting on her front and preening her, it's extremely difficult for you to keep your composure while you're doing this. She knows it, and does it on purpose. The vibrations run from her chest, to your thighs and up your spine. Eventually, a simple preening turns to you desperately humping her chest while she just smiles and watches you.

One of her favorite things to do though is hold you in one paw and give you oral. You're distended in the air, held tight by her claws. Then you feel her soft, warm human hands spread your thighs open and lap at you. It's enthralling to knows this creature that could easily snap you in half could just. Do that. And she makes the sweetest little moans and hums while she tastes you. You almost forget she's a chimera with the soul of a literal dragon.

You can fuck yourself on one of her claws or the tip of her tail. She'll round out a claw (just in case, Falin doesn't wanna hurt you) so you can ride it like a dildo and see how much you can take. Same with the tip of her tail. Falin just lays down and moves it in and out, slowly but surely stretching you out while you cry out. Her face is almost as red as her body while she watches you do this with hungry eyes.

Even though it's impossible to fit her cock inside you, goddamnit, you try. You can barely even get 3/4 of the head in, but it's cute to watch your tiny body give it an attempt. Awww, you're that desperate for her? Cute. When she gets too pent up from all the teasing, though, Falin just grasps you with her claws and slides you up and down her length. Grinding against her is heavenly. It coats your body in slick and your own cum and eventually....hers. She cums enough that you need a bath afterwards. But if you don't have time, she'll happily lick you clean. (And spend extra time between your thighs, making you cum again on her face)

And she is...a biter. She can't help it. You're her mate. Falin sinks her teeth into the soft flesh of your thighs, your ass, and your shoulders the most. She loves the taste of your blood, the primal part of her desires it, and she likes seeing the marks on you. It's insanely sexy for her to know SHE did that. And its a sign that she owns you. <3

#dungeon meshi #delicious in dungeon #falin touden #dungeon meshi x reader #falin x reader

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tadpolesonalgae · 2 months

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Sugar Daddy Azriel - drabble?

a/n: so, I have one or two requests in my inbox relating to this sort of dynamic--one I've never written before--so we're doing a test run with Azzie (since obviously they're all feysand-related)

Also I haven’t proofread this so apologies

warnings: uhhh dom/sub dynamics, sugar baby/sugar daddy-ish vibes, no use of Daddy but occasional use of Sir, oral (m receiving), I think we're getting bit of soft Dom Az in this, reader is a reader

——————————————————————————————————————————————

You jolt in surprise when you find him sat at the edge of your large bed, one he'd had made especially to accommodate him and his wingspan. "Evening, pretty lady," Azriel drawls, a playful smirk curving his mouth as hazel eyes trail your form.

You're wrapped in a red, blue, white, and dark green, horizontally-striped jumper that comes down to the tops of your thighs. It's baggy and has a wide neckline, showing off the line of your collar bones as it sits at the edge of your shoulders. Beneath are a pair of soft, navy shorts that only peek out from the hem of the jumper when you lift your arms a significant height, feet clad in thick socks that rise halfway up your calves, full and fluffy, and partially concealed by the chunky dark-blue slippers he'd bought you last solecist.

"Azriel?" You question, smiling despite knowing how odd it is that this is your kind of relationship - with him just appearing at intervals inside your home. Often with Things in tow. "What are you doing here?" You already know what he's doing here, or can at least guess from the black paper bag leaning against his side, printed with that distinctive white and gold monogram on the parchment.

Sure enough his hazel eyes glint, inclining his chin. "I think you know what."

"Mhmm? You got me something?"

"Maybe. Come closer. You can find out."

Your smile widens with fondness as you make your way across the rug you'd had imported from the continent, pausing between his long legs, a shiver of pleasure purring up your spine as he lays his broad palms around your waist, squeezing lightly with his thumbs as they stroke your sides. "Want to take a look, pretty thing?"

"Hmm? No viewing fee?"

"I'm feeling generous."

"Mhmm. Not at all keeping the mischief for later, no sir." He huffs a laugh, before nodding to the bag. "Just take a look."

Inquisitively you slide your fingers between the two trifolds, spreading them to peer inside. Your brows narrow, spotting the thick width of a book, but when you reach to pull it out a cool shadows slinks around your wrist, and he tuts. "I don't think I said you could touch, did I?" A smile curves your mouth, eyes bright and twinkling as you retract from the bag, turning your attention rightfully to him. "And what do I have to do to get my hands on it, sir?"

He scoffs. "You've done this more than a dozen times for me. You know what to do."

"But I want you to tell me," you murmur, lips still curved as heat simmers between your thighs. Azriel's mouth quirks to reflect your pleased expression, hand sliding upward. "Yeah? You want me to give you some orders to follow?" His thick fingers hold your throat carefully, flexing once so you can feel as he lays each digit to your skin. "On your knees, pretty thing."

"There's the Dom I know and love," you whisper against his mouth, before settling into position between his legs. Azriel chuckles softly, "you want a Dom tonight? Have you been good?"

"Perfect," you murmur, fingers already greedily untying the laces of his leathers. "I've been the best."

"The best?"

"Mhmm."

"Have you touched yourself?" You shake your head, halting once you've got his laces out of the way, waiting for the instructions. "Have you wanted to?" You nod, enjoying the heat of arousal that flushes your skin. Azriel raises a brow, his fingers stroking over your hair before lightly taking a section in his fist. "What were you doing when thinking about it?"

"Reading..."

He smirks. "Of course you were."

Arousal intensifies, but you continue to wait patiently, adhering to the unspoken rules. Azriel parts his thighs, lightly tugging on your hair to tilt your face upward. "Tell me why you wanted to touch yourself, pretty thing." You flush, teeth dragging over your lower lip before answering. "There was a scene, sir..." Azriel quirks a brow, a hint of a smirk at the corner of his lovely mouth. "A scene?" You nod your head, glancing briefly between his legs, un-wanting and unwilling to hide your hunger. "Eyes up here," he warns, bringing your gaze to his, "what scene?"

"I wanted to watch you read it," you admit, "to share it with you..."

"How sweet of you," he drawls.

"I thought you might like the ropes..."

Azriel chuckles, the deep noise licking between your thighs that you squeeze together. "My smart little reader's been nosing at some dirty things, hasn't she?"

"You'll like them, too," you argue playfully.

"Oh, filthy then."

You flush deeply, silently begging for him to give you the okay. His mouth curves and stark relief floods your system. "Open." He orders, and your lips part on command. His answering smirk would have had your underwear dropping to the floor had you been standing. "Be good," he goads, shadows pulling himself free as he carefully wraps your hair around his fist--for guidance.

You tighten around nothing as he pulls you forward, tapping his leaking tip against your lower lip teasingly, smearing the precum that had gathered there in a glossy mess, liking how it gleams on your mouth before slowly feeding you his cock. Moans are already aching to spill from your throat, but you have the feeling even if you allowed yourself to his cock would muffle them significantly. He's so big.

"There you go. Good girl," he praises, dragging you back by your hair, groaning when your tongue flicks out to deliver a small lick to a spot just at the underside oh his head. "Wicked girl," he amends, the groan hungry and guttural and not helping the gathering wetness in your underwear.

Azriel's mouth curves when he pushes you back down to his base, gently guiding your movements: up...and down...up...and down. "So filthy beneath that pretty exterior, aren't you?" He huffs a laugh that tails into a groan when you do something hot with your tongue. "Fuck. Not a single soul would look at my lovely little reader and think she'd be like this. So sweet on your outside, aren't you?"

Sweet on the inside, too, your eyes say when you suckle his tip, lapping up the leaking precum eagerly. Azriel grits his teeth, his breathing deepening and a flush colouring his cheeks...one that makes you want give him more. He twitches in your mouth, and you take him down your throat eagerly, an arm curving beneath his thigh to place your hand on his hip, wanting to touch more of him.

His wings shift on the bed, flaring wide then tucking in tight, his grip tightening in your hair as he bucks his hips, knowing you can take it. Scarred fingers graze your scalp, thumb stroking across your hair encouragingly, sensing the peak isn't far off now. "Gods, so sweet and filthy. And mine." He laughs when you whimper onto the thick length of his cock. "Yeah? You're all mine, aren't you? My lovely, sweet, thing."

You practically purr when he releases in your mouth, tongue swirling and mixing with his cum, a thrum of biological satisfaction shimmering through your body with sheer pleasure. He pulls tentatively at your hair, asking you to pull away, and you happily obey, keeping your mouth open and sliding your eyes shut as he finishes on your face. A growl rumbles from the back of his throat, panting with flushed skin as he looks down at you, thumb swiping at some of the milky liquid, chuckling when you lift from the ground to take it into your mouth, tongue eagerly licking over the pad.

He pulls you to straddle his lap, and you shiver as he kisses your face, cleaning you up of the mess he's made, occasionally gathering more on his fingers and letting you feed from it.

"Was I good, Azzie?" You murmur, arms wrapping around his broad shoulders--shoulders you've been thrown over more than a few times--curving your spine so your breasts push into his chest, soft and full. "So good, pretty thing," he whispers, lips curving as he plies the hem of your striped jumper down one side of your arm so he can lick and suck marks into you, trailing his way up to a space below your jaw, beneath your ear. "I think you earned yourself something extra."

"Something extra...?" His hand slides from your waist to your ass, pulling away lightly to glance down at your bare thighs, "are you even wearing shorts?"

"They've ridden up my legs," you argue, pulling the hem of your jumper higher to show the navy cloth. "I wouldn't have minded..." he drawls, hazel eyes flicking to yours as his hand slides beneath their waistband, squeezing your ass appreciatively, making you squeal and curve into him, laughing. "You're the filthy one, Az. Not me."

"Mhmm? So you weren't reading those books before you fell in with me?"

"I was..." you reply primly. Your thighs part wider, able to feel him against your centre. "I couldn't let you do all the corrupting."

"Uh-huh. Well, maybe what's in the bag will help with that."

"Can I touch now?" You smirk, clearly taunting him. Azriel grins, his eyes glinting. "Keep up with that attitude," he goads. "I'm sure it will land you in a good place."

You roll your hips to his. "Underneath you?"

"Keep it up and you'll find out." He lands a hard spank to your ass, smirking when you gasp, before nodding to the bag. "Take a look, princess."

You flush at the pet name, pulling the bag between you and pulling free the book. Your eyes nearly shoot out of your head, cheeks ablaze as you scan the bespoke design--the gold-threaded title catching your attention almost immediately. It's the dirtiest (and favourite) book you've ever read. You splutter, staring at him. "Wh- How?"

"Spymaster perks."

"That doesn't answer anything!" He smirks when you shoot him a suspicious glance. "Alright," he relents, "Helion has particular connections."

You shake your head. "That still doesn't answer anything."

Azriel smiles faintly. "Do you like it, though?"

That certainly gets you grinning, holding the thick book in your hands, tilting it back and forth so the thread catches in the light, glinting decadently. "Of course I like it," you mumble, flipping the book to trail your fingers admiringly down the ridges of the spine. "I love it." You glance up, meeting softened hazel eyes. "That's why you got it though, isn't it."

"Maybe I like seeing you contented."

"Maybe I like seeing you coming."

Azriel chokes on a laugh, large palm sliding beneath your jumper to stroke across the bare expanse of your back, hand shifting so his fingers wrap around your ribs, grazing the underside of your breast. "Maybe the feeling's mutual," he murmurs over your lips, and you feel yourself beginning to melt as his mouth slants over your own, his taste still prominent in both of you.

When he pulls away, he pushes hair from your cheek that had fallen from its place behind your ear. Your heart skips, and then you're opening the book, swiftly scanning the pages until you find the right passage. "As a thank you from me, and a reward from you..." You flip the book around, pointing to the section. "Can we try this, next?"

——————————————————————————————————————————————

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pedge-page · 3 months

Text

Mother Who Indulges

Joel Miller x F! Reader

Summary: Joel’s found other means to get his favorite snack. But he’s bad at hiding the evidence taking form on his own body.

Can be read as sequel to Mother Who Provides or on its own.

Warnings: Fat!Joel, Sub! Joel, breastfeeding, lactation kink, feedee/feeder, burping, belly worship, belly button licking, gluttony, riding, vaginial fingering, m! Masturbation, forced feeding, hands free ejaculation, unprotected sex, breeding kink, cream pie, switch dynamic at the end, Mommy and brief Daddy kink, nipple play for Joel, derogatory names such as cow or hog (towards Joel)

18+ ONLY

- - - -

Your husband was never a closet eater.

Joel was someone who enjoyed food in the company of others. Never saw it as anything more than fuel for the body, only ate when he needed it. Sure, he wouldn’t turn down a soda and a bag of chips every blue moon, but the amount of physical labor he does at his job always combats any minimal amount of snacking he does. He’s always been in perfect, lovable shape. Not shredded abs by any means, but he had just the right strength to carry you bridal style, just the right softness to cuddle up against him like a warm pillow.

Or at least, he used to.

You started to notice it after the 6 month mark of brining your baby home. As you very slowly lost a few pounds of post partum weight, Joel seemingly started to gain them—a couple dozen of them. And it was … odd.

He didn’t go out to eat—the man preferred a home cook meal and saving a few bucks where he could. There also weren’t any suspicious amounts of extra processed snacks coming into the house. And it’s not like Joel was slacking off on the construction site by any means. And yet, you noticed it when he started huffing just to get his once baggy jeans over his thickened belly. Or the way his shirts stretched a little tighter over his chest. Or the extra grunts after any regular amount of food.

The only real change was that 10-month old Sarah had started refusing pre-bagged bottle milk. The little thing ONLY wanted mama’s nana’s straight from the tap. And that meant Joel’s little breastfeeding habits had to go on pause so that your baby would actually eat.

“Picky little thing,” he grumbled with folded arms as your baby sucked away happily at your breasts, all wrapped up snugly in your arms. You could see the distain in his face—the idea that Sarah was no longer going to “share” your perky tits and even more delectable breastmilk. You were a full blown cow utter live and on demand when Sarah needed it.

You only laugh. “It’s all meant for the baby anyway. Besides, you got more than enough fill, right?”

He didn’t exactly answer you that night. Just grunted and walked away. You thought that was the end of it.

Until one night: half asleep and feeling an incredibly soreness in your breasts. It felt hot, wet, and heavy like a sack of potatoes sitting atop your chest, with a leach on the end of it. Though, you did notice they gradually felt lighter, which is strange. You always filled with milk over night. Groaning, your nipples felt twisty, sore as hell. Groggily you reach under the covers—God, why are they so hard and big? I can’t even feel it … oh, oh no. why it is hairy? And there’s growling coming from below.

Panic ensures, fear that you’re turning into some hairy wolf beast stuck in a dream, becoming misshaped and hideous and—

You wake up fully and toss the covers off, revealing your husband who’s latched on to your tit, suckling the milk like in second heaven.

You stare down at him disappointingly. Joel only just realizes he’s been caught, your nip falling from his mouth with suctioned pop, as cream pours from his lips. Caught red handed.

“Um….sorry. Was hungry.”

You wack his head hard several times, enunciating, “That-is-for-the-baby!”

“Okay okay!”

“Do you do this often when I’m asleep?”

Joel shifts up slightly, staring down at your teeth ridden mounds. He clears his throat guiltily. “…No...”

He got an earful, and you were careful to make sure he didn’t try sneaking Sarah’s breakfast off of you in the early morning again.

And that seemed like the end of it. He never brought it up or complained again.

And yet, the man was still gaining weight like nobody’s business…

Joel doesn’t like sneaking around his wife.

Realistically, he should have been losing weight, what with the extra snack of your milk each night he could enjoy now entirely off the menu. He should have not been too indulgent either, as you may have noticed his... physical difference. In fact, he was surprised it didn’t really dawn on you, where all those extra pounds on your hubby are coming from.

Joel tiptoes down to the kitchen in the late night, far after you’re lightly snoring. He makes sure not to hit the pressure sensitive creaky floorboards too. Honestly, even with the extra weight, he’s pretty good at slinky-ing around.

But his eagerness is getting the best of him. Rumbling through his body despite the slowness in his pace. He waits all day for this moment and can’t rush it now.

He cracks open the fridge, the light illuminating the dark kitchen as he briefly scans behind him again for any signs of movement. When the area is secure, he turn back. He’s so excited, goosebumps riveting his skin. Bubbles gurgling in his stomach. He’s become gluttonous, no doubt. But when you get that high, it’s hard to just quit cold turkey.

Reaching behind the beer bottles, carefully laid under a foil wrap of steak, is his most prized possession of the late night endeavors: that extra sum of frozen baggies of your breastmilk in the freezer that you gracious kept saved and that his even more gracious baby now refuses to drink. To his luck, you must have mentally completely forgotten about them. He always pulls three each night and lets them thaw in their hidden place in the refrigerator, waiting all day for this exact moment.

His obtuse stomach rumbles. Joel typically wears a buttoned sleep shirt as of late since it was the only thing that fit him to bed. But now the bottom few buttons had torn off, leaving his fat gut rounded and hanging out.

The hungry man licks his lips as he tears open the first buoyant bag of cream, his lips quivering when that first scent hits his nose. “Ah—oh fuck yeah. That’s the good stuff,” he groans, but quickly softens his voice again, remembering he can’t get caught on his indulgence.

He hastily dips a fat finger into the milk and swirls it before pushing past his lips. Joel closes his eyes, humming loudly as the taste of your fine breastmilk invade his buds, travel through his electrical signals to his brain that then releases pleasure throughout his entire body. He moans around his digit, sucking every little drop until he’s close to gnawing his finger off. Then he releases with a pop and grins, dipping two more fingers and scooping it out messily. Tilting back to drink the second helping. It drips down his palm, and he’s quick to suckle it up. None can be wasted.

He suppresses a slight burp. His large stomach screaming for more, for what he came he for. Joel tilts the baggie back over his head, leaning back and drinks the entire contents. Audible gulp after gulp, the sweet taste of milk fills his tongue and travels to his happy belly. All while his other wondering hand roams over the thick, stretched flesh, right over his belly button, jiggling the heavy underside of lard. God he feels so good like this. Getting gorged out on your milk, feeling so full and fulfilled from it.

He wags the bag once the last few drops are struggling to pour, sticking his tongue out like a dog. Heat spreads from his core down to his loins. Joel grips his hardened length over his soft pj shorts. He can’t help it. He once had prime seat to your lap, drinking straight from your tits whenever he felt like it while you jerked him off. Now reduced to palming his hard-on while lapping at your bagged milk by himself in the dark late of night.

The first bag never lasts. He makes sure to lick any remnant on his lips, squeezing his belly and groan with a pathetic whimper. He needs more. He always needs more. Thankfully there are two more bags for tonight, but fuck he could drink 300 right now and still never be full.

His shirt stretches tightly over his chest, and he decides to unbutton the top few stained buttons. His puffy chest bursts through the fabric like a damn. Now fully free, the silk material hanging forgotten and obscured by his massive figure, Joel can now take more enjoyment out of tearing into the next bag and downing it even faster than the first.

He huffs out, breathing for the first time after slurping the entire bag in one go. Rubbing faster up and down his stiff cock. Shit, he’s gonna cum. Feels so euphoric having his tip bump against the lower hang of his pooch. The fat tip meeting his even fatter tummy.

And your taste. That’s what sends him over every night. Has him cumming in his sleep shorts by the time he’s finished the third bag. Joel grunts, lifting his stomach from the underside so his other hand can palm his swollen dick. “Momma’s got the best milk,” he hums to himself, eyes closed in bliss. “Oh fuck fuck fuck, fuck yeah, I’m—I’m gonna—!”

“So!”

Joel swings around, crashing his body into the open refrigerator door, spilling his precious milk all over his tits and belly. Only to be met with you, your arms folded over your chest, spaghetti silk nightgown adorning your figure and a knowing smirk on your face.

“So this is where you’ve been getting your little extra snacks.”

He’s speechless, caught and cornered with no where to go. His mouth opens, but no words leave, like a gaping fish out of water.

“Nothing to say, Joel?” You ask with a tilt of your head.

“I—its—“ he casts down at his belly sadly. God, he looks pathetic now. Cock rock hard and stabbing through his pants, and belly flush out like a pig at a buffet. You must think he’s disgusting like this. “I…I missed your milk, baby,” he says solemnly. “Got carried away, I guess.”

Instead of the scolding he expects, you walk up to him quietly and bring his eyes to yours. Taking the bag of half drank breastmilk, he acquiesces and lets you.

To his surprise, you hold it up slightly to mouth level for him. “Looks like you’re not finished yet, honey.”

Joel stares at you, confused. But when you start palming his erection, gliding your hand up and around his belly with a swirling ticklish finger before brushing back down to his dick, he doesn’t have any braincells left. You push the bag forward and his jaw drops open once again, feeding him. With you at the control, he gulps quickly, afraid to lose any as you pour the entire contents at once. He sputters a moment when the bag is empty, too caught up on the pleasurable heat spreading in his crotch and core again. You kiss his lips, the sweet taste making you realize how difficult it must have been for him to give something so delightful up.

“Mmmm, that’s better?”

“Ah—oh—oh-yeah-so good baby-shit-“ he groans as you continue your ministrations on his member. With two hands, you hoist the underside of his enlarged middle, bouncing it up and down.

“Oh, Joel,” you tsk. “So light. So empty! We’re not done yet big boy. Not even close.”

They say there’s such a thing as too much of a good thing.

But as for Joel, stripped naked and sitting his fat ass on the couch, gorging on the funneled tube that’s been cascading a mix of whole and breastmilk into his stomach, he can confidently say that saying doesn’t apply here.

His finishes a big gulp before pulling the nozzle away, letting out a massive burp. As he grips the side of his belly, the rolls on his side multiplying before his vary eyes and skin stretching like a taught balloon, he’s never felt so full in his life.

And it feels fucking amazing.

He’s never felt so guilt-free, so perfectly enlightened and fully allowing himself to feel pleasure like to this level.

“You full yet?” You coo. You’re standing next to him by the cough, a gallon of mixed milk partially full in one hand as you check on your gluttonous husband.

He shakes his head, devious and energized. “Hit me again, baby!” He puts the nozzle back in his mouth and rests the back of his head on the couch headrest again.

You chuckle but does as he says, pouring the jug into the large funnel. He can’t wait fast enough for the milk to force its way through the tube and finally squirts onto his tongue again.

“That’s my good boy. Mommy loves filling you up with her milk. No need to hide it from me any more baby. You keep drinking and drinking until you’re full.”

With one hand splayed over his belly button, physically feeling his gut fill past its maximum, he gets a quick glance at you. The way you giddily grin, eyeing him up and down in his fattened state like a delicious piece of steak. He’s never felt so sexy in his life.

His cock feels it too. Reddened and swollen beyond belief. curved against the swell of his belly leaving a sticky trail where his precum keeps nudging along. Though, with how much he’s packing into his stomach, he’s struggling more and more to be able to fully grasp his cock and jerk it with the mean pumps he usually does. Joel was the type of masturbator to grip his base with one hand while the other beats his meat like a car engine. His arms still retained their muscled strength, but everywhere else was starting to fill in. Now, he can only get one hand down there to gently tug on it.

“Poor baby, got you so fat you can basely touch that little dick?” You tease. Though at the sheer size of him, Joel Miller’s cock is anything but ‘little.’ In fact, it’s even more imposing now, like somehow he added a few extra pounds onto his mini me as well to keep the proportions the same.

“S’not little. I can—oh fuck—still reach jus’ fine.”

Another burp billows up his throat, and he just gets the tube out of his mouth to let it out. Hell, he can barely move. The amount of effort just to sit upright again makes him bounce his whole body, the fat moving at a slower pace. Fuck, even when he can’t fully jerk his cock like he used to, the pressure of his belly on top of his tip, smushing his balls into the couch feels heavenly. Especially when he bounces and rocks back and forth slightly. Friction doing its thing and grinding his sack between his big thighs.

“Baby,” he gasps. “M so full of you.” He peers up to you with heart, drunken full pupils as he jiggles his belly. “M’ so packed tight. So much Mommy’s milk.” One finger trails up the fold under his pec, now swollen like a breast himself, before pinching and rolling his nips between his calloused fingers.

“Yeah? Let Mommy feel.” You press your palm over his chest, down to his belly that protrudes so far out. Despite being squishy earlier this night, his stomach is indeed bursting to its limit. Hardened just as yours was right before giving birth.

“Aww, oh Joel…” you squeeze your thumb into his belly button and grip the lower half before jiggling it roughly. He gasps and pushes him belly out further for you, rocking his hips best he can into the air. “You really are full baby, huh? Greedy greedy piggy.”

“Mhm,” he hums with a pout, licking his lips. “Momma’s fat fuckin’ gluttonous hog. ‘At’s me.”

You prop the funnel up on a coat hook before sliding down to your knees in front of your husband. He leans as far forward as possible to be able to see all over you between his chunky legs, parted to let you breathe against his tummy that’s right up against your face.

You gently caress his sides along the rounded shape, holding his middle in your hands. You’re so soft against him, so loving and careful. He feels no different right now than when he used to be able to lie on your lap and feed from your tit. It’s been so long since then, and he realizes now this is the feeling he’d been chasing bag after bag all this time.

Your soft cheek presses into his skin there, making him sigh relaxed.

He’s getting lost in the feeling of you on him, but you need to keep him on track.

“Keep drinking. You’ve got 2 more gallons.” You point towards the table where more mixed milk sits, and Joel settles up and begins gulping his cream again.

He moans, cock twitching against your chest as your tongue swirls around his belly button, dipping inside slightly. The hairs around his happy trail feel soft as you stroke along his naval. You can hear the little sloshing of liquid inside him each time you plant a wet kiss against his skin, making out with his gorged stomach.

The weeping end of his length bobs painfully each time you brush it. You notice he’s glancing down at you playing with him, while he continues to swallow big batches down his throat. “You want me to take care of your little problem?”

He nods pitifully.

“Not until you’re done.” You smile, standing up and gripping his belly harshly. He grunts but doesn’t release the bottled end, sucking more milk as you slap his belly repeatedly. Watching it wobble from the sheer effort and taking a moment to settle before you slap it again. Each time he whimpers but pushes it out more, asking for another.

“Greedy“—slap—“fat“—slap—“Milk hungry“—slap—“whore.”

You squeeze his plush tit, no bigger than an A cup but still, the man had nothing there before. He grunts and eyes you, dark and pleading. “Holy fuck, You’ve even got such cute cow titties Joel.” You giggle, rolling his perked nipples under you thumb while cupping the rest of the fat pooling there. “Wouldn’t that be something? Squeezing milk from your own tits?” You place your mouth on his pecs and begin suckling like the tip of his cock. Joel tosses his head back, milk spilling from his cheeks as he howls in pleasure.

“Oh fuck Momma that’s it—keep sucking my fat tits—christ. Fuck—fuckFUCK!” One hand caresses your hair as he whines, “I Love you.”

“I love you too. How are we doing?” You gesture to the funnel.

He tilts it upside down. “All out,” he says with a grimace.

“Good. On your knees.”

You grab his chubby hands and hoist him up, the two of you laughing when he fails after the first attempt.

When he does get to his feet, you cup his face with both hands and kiss him. “You look so fucking sexy, Joel Miller.”

You brush his fingers under your thigh, between your slit. “Oh—shit—so fuckin’ wet,” he whispers, rubbing your slicked walls with his meaty fingers.

Pressing your cunt against his crotch, your belly collides with his, creating the perfect friction on your clit. “I want you bigger than me when you knock me up with twins next.”

He grits his teeth and hisses against your lips. The mental image doing a whirlwind on him. You chuck two pillows to the ground for him comfort. With a big thud, he gets to one knee on the plush, then the other, arms flailing forward and hands plastered on the ground to hold his weight. His belly sags so heavily, causing him to groan. the compressed tip is damn near toughing the floorboards even as he holds cow position.

He stares up back up at you, soft big moo moo eyes getting eager when you grab the funnel and uncap another jug.

He used to marvel at how much pregnancy changed you. At how he changed you. Your body growing round with child, a child he put inside you, and then your tits swelling up with milk, all because of him.

And now he’s changing physically because of you too. His body filling with fat, engorged from your abundant lactation that you’re feeding him.

He sticks his tongue out without a single word, sucking in the nozzle and guzzling the milk funneling through again.

He downs this one fast and hard, pushing away with a big sigh. “Christ, I can’t do it. MN’gonna fuckin’ explode.”

You crouch down to see his convex stomach. It’s perfectly rounded and bulging like a moon.

He shivers when you cup the underside and glide up along, feeling how smoothed over from so much filling him. “Touch it, please touch it baby. Gonna go crazy if ya don’t.”

You watch as his eyes squeeze shut, his swaying back and forth like he’s trying to get his belly to hump his dick, or maybe the other way around. He’s helpless in this position by his own doing.

“Aww, has my big boy had enough? No more Mommy’s milk?”

He shakes his head painfully. “More,” he croaks. God, his body is screaming no. he’s never felt so ready to turn into an atom bomb, and yet his intoxicated brain knows if he can’t down the last of this gallon, you’ll never give him the full on tap again.

Joel snatches the tunnel again, balancing on one hand briefly as he wraps his tongue around and drinks yet again. Gulp after gulp, the sweet liquid bulges in his esophagus before traveling down to his mighty belly. You kiss his cheek and hold the nozzle to his face, forcing it to stay. “Almost there, Joel, drink it to the last drop, and then you’ll get your reward…” you not so subtly squeeze your breasts together, and that does it for him.

He spits out the nozzle and falls head first to the ground, back arched as much as possible as his tummy smushes into the hardwood. With a howl, his hips jerk forward into his fat middle, suffocating the tip and he starts cumming untouched. “Oh-ah-ahaugghhh-yeah—yeah!” He hums, cheek pressed into the ground and drool and milk spilling from those sinful lips along with a litany of sexy, satisfied noises.

All the while you praise him with kisses and gentle curls of his hair, telling him how good he’s been for you. The funnel rolls around the floor, having been drained into Joel’s gut just a moment before he gave in.

And you’d think he was done, out for the count, needing a fat coma nap. Instead, just as you help him up to his bum, Joel snatches your waist. “Get on my lap Momma,” he slurs, licking his lips once again. You half climb, half are hoisted up to his lap, his cream coated cock still raging hard and sitting between the two of you. “Show me what those bouncing titties can do. “He slaps your breasts with little slapslapslaps. The tight grip he has on your hips forces you to begin rolling, your neglected cunt beautifully nudged against his sack with his belly and cock brushing your clit.

“Hop on Pop,” he chuckles.

Gripping one of his shoulders, you align his cock along your soaked folds and sink down on him, the two of you sighing heavily. His sticky cum coated length needed no prep to enter you, filling your womb to the brim with his Daddy sized dick. “Gonna pump you full now, little Momma. Gonna get ya bred in no time.” Joel dips his head down and latches your tit between his jaws.

You gasp and grip his hair as he begins suckling out your warm breastmilk. It’s like all this time, he wasn’t truly even full. Like he had a separate storage in this lard living planet between you just for your hot fresh pure milk.

“J-Joel,” you moan, eyes rolling. He’s always been good at sex. Always had a great body, but this…this is different. You can feel all of him pressing against you. Burrying your nub and hitting it so deliciously from the outside as he pummels you from the inside. You fee like a little doll, being used like a flashlight up and down along his thick cock

“That’s it, Mommy, ride me. Ride my fat cock. Ride it till ya swollen here—“ he pokes at your stomach “—as big as mine, like ya said.” You grin, biting your teeth. “B-bigger.”

He smiles. “Bigger.” His beefy hands wrap around your back and pull you as close to him as you can physically manage. “Let Daddy do all the work on that one. Just gotta take my cream, at’s all. I drink yours—n’ you take mine.”

“Mmfff--fuck—fuckyes Daddy fill me up—fill me with your cream! Ah! oh shit I’m cumming! Make me a Mommy again!”

You spasm, convulsing around Joel’s base just as he stills and ruts his second load inside you, grunting into your tits like a pained beast. You feel each pulse overwhelming your walls, yet having nowhere else to go but inside. The man has never cum so much in a second orgasm in his life, and you start to wonder if any of this is your own milk having traveled to his balls and deposited safely inside you again.

As the two of you come down, breathing in and holding one another tightly, Joel pecks at your jaw with feather kisses.

“You know…I won’t be lactating forever.” You twirl some of his curly brown hair out of his sweaty temple. “It’s going to end eventually.”

He only shrugs.

Gasping as his dick twitches to life inside you once again, he presses his lips to yours and begins shallowly thrusting again. “Guess I’m just gonna have to keep knocking you up.”

- - - -

Notes: I have plans for more Fat!Joel content in a variety of flavors...not just subby and breastfeeding. Will be different characters and have other independent requests so stay tuned!

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doitforbangchan · 7 months

Text

All Bark and No Bite 08

Another early chapter to celebrate my birthday 🥳 i am now a 25 year old child 👧 please enjoy and let me know what you think 💕

Masterlist

Series masterlist

Chan x reader (y/n) x ot8

ABO!Nonidol!SKZ Alternate Universe

Previous - Next

Series Warnings: Fem reader, Smut, verryyyy nsfw, chan x reader, OT8 x reader, A/B/O, m/m/f smut, possessive! SKZ, possessive! Reader, anxiety and depression, reader is a CRYBABY, fluff, angst, virgin!reader, cursing, violence, pet names, dom/sub dynamics, Sub reader x mostly dom SKZ, misogyny and sexism, Ateez are depicted as terrible people (sorry Atiny!)

Chapter Warnings: Smut, oral (f receiving), fingering, Hard dom! Chan, suggestive, kissing, dirty thoughts, cursing, fluff, mild dissociation, traditional gender roles, crying (as usual)

WC: 4.1k

MDNI 18+

Hyunjin could, in fact, carry you up two flights of stairs. Now you know better than to doubt his physical prowess. It seemed almost effortless to him to make the trek up with you on his back. The whole time he had you hoisted up you were able to see the muscles in his arms rippling.

It honestly made you see him in a different light. You had thought he was an attractive man- of course you did- but knowing how strong he was… It made you want to ravish him. See what other muscles he has hidden from you.

Good thing you were behind him or he would be able to see the gears turning in your mind and the flush in your cheeks.

He took you right to the closed door of your room. It was concealing whatever your ‘surprise’ was. Hyunjin gently set you down on your shaky legs, grabbing your hand once your feet touched the floor. He lifted your hand up to his mouth, placing a kiss to your palm, then leaning in close as if he was going to kiss you. Your heart was thumping out of your chest, anticipating his next move. Instead he only kissed your cheek and whispered smugly, “Don't ever doubt me again, Baby.”

You had a look of ‘wtf’ on your face but he just ignored it, choosing to turn on his heels and head back down the steps.

Before he went down he turned to you one last time.

“Oh, the surprise is from Min.” With that he gave you a wink and descended the steps.

From Minho? That felt slightly odd to you. You had gotten a feeling the beta didn’t care for you much, but maybe you were wrong. Maybe it just took him a minute to warm up to someone. Either way you weren't going to dwell on it, he had gotten you a surprise after all.

Opening the door to your room you saw many bags sitting on your bed. Not just any bags, they were bags from Euns shop! Walking into your room and closer to the bags you noticed that there were many more than the 5 bags you had before your.. Mishap. There now appeared to be at least 10 bags.

‘Did Minho get me more clothes?’ You wondered, suddenly overcome with gratitude. While you loved wearing your alphas clothes it would be nice to have some of your own, especially after Chan had literally destroyed your original outfit. You looked through the items left for you, and half of them you definitely didn't pick, but you loved each thing he had grabbed for you. You had been so worried when you were shopping that you would spend too much money, that you didn’t get all the things you had wanted. Looks like Minho paid you great attention though because he had picked things you had desperately wanted. So many pretty dresses and sets. And lingerie?

Looking at the matching bra and panty sets you just knew there was a dark red blush on your cheeks. What was new though. There were also a few strappy numbers you would usually be way too shy to buy for yourself. It made you remember that you were expected to be shared amongst the pack.

‘Did Minho want to see me in these racy outfits?’ You might actually have a heart attack at the thought.

After looking through each bag you sped yourself down the stairs to find Minho. You went down to the second floor where you remembered his room being, finding the door open and him not there.

You did take a moment to peer inside, though. His room was decorated in deep purples, and had a thick shag rug that almost surrounded the entire room. The space felt very mature and had a lingering scent of the beta.

Your eyes were starting to close at the intense smell of him, a musky spice that was almost intoxicating. You snapped yourself out of it before you fell too deep into a subspace. No time for that you were on a mission! Next stop was the kitchen.

You barreled down the next flight of steps, almost tumbling a few times due to your still weak legs, and onto the main floor. You could hear a few soft voices coming from the living room but none sounded like the man you were after. There was a smell of something cooking coming from the kitchen, and when you stepped into the large room there was Minho. He was there stirring some vegetables on the stove.

He seemed to have heard you enter but before he could greet you, you launched yourself at him pulling him into a hug and smothering your face against his shirt. He seemed stunned for a moment- putting his hands in the air like he was afraid to touch you. It took him a second before he felt himself relax in your hold.

“Fank you fo the clofes” Your words were almost incoherent against him but he managed to understand. With one hand he patted your head while the other leaned past you and continued stirring the food he was preparing.

“You needed them. It’s no big deal.” He responded evenly, as if his heart wasn’t beating wildly.

You pulled back from him with those signature tears “No big deal? Of course it is! You went out of your way for me! And got me even more! I am so grateful to you Minho! I don’t know how to thank you for your kindness.”

He gave you a small smirk, “You know how you can thank me?” You looked at him with hopeful eyes, shaking your head no.

“Wipe those pretty tears off your face.” He responded with a small pat to your cheek before turning his attention back to the food.

You sniffled one more time before nodding and using your palms to wipe your face. It was then that your omega brain noticed he was cooking. That was your job!

“What are you doing?” You demanded. “I’m supposed to be cooking for you!” You then tried to shove him out of the way but he wasn’t budging. He was surprisingly sturdy. All he did was laugh in response.

Your lips curled into a pout and you crossed your arms angrily, giving him your best evil eye. It did not phase him at all, instead he just laughed again shaking his head and continuing to cook. You wouldn’t give in though! If the glare wouldn’t work you would try being sweet.

Unfolding your arms you clasped your hands out in front of you and gave him your best puppy dog pout.

“Please Min.” You stepped closer to him and rested your head against his shoulder. “It makes me feel useless if I can’t provide something for you guys.”

Minho felt himself tense up when you touched him again. For some reason your touch was making him nervous. That is until he registered your words.He turned to you with a sternness on his face.

“Don’t say that.” His voice was borderline harsh. You looked up at him shocked when you heard it. He continued a little softer after seeing your expression, “ You’re not useless, you provide enough”

‘Or you're going to start soon enough.’ He thought to himself.

“I like cooking, it's calming to me. If you really want we can split it up and I’ll let you make breakfasts and the occasional dinner.”

Your eyes shined at the prospect of being allowed to contribute, nodding your head rapidly. You would take anything you could get. “Yes! Thank you Minho!” You hugged him again quickly before skipping out of the kitchen, happy with the agreement.

The beta called out after you “Tell everyone 5 minutes til’ dinner!”

“You got it!”

Wandering back into the living room Felix and Jisung were still lazily strewn on the loveseat but now Changbin and Jeongin were also in there, the group playing Mario kart on the switch that was hooked up to the tv. You stood in the entryway for a moment watching them play.

It brought back memories of you playing games with your siblings, back when things were simpler. It felt like they were, anyway. You had a pretty normal childhood all things considered. You had a good relationship with your siblings, you had friends, you were doing well in school- fuck, you were even planning on going to college to become a zoologist. You were happy.

That all changed for you the second you turned 16, when you presented as an omega and had to forget about ever having a normal life.

You must have been stuck pretty far in your own mind because you didn’t hear Changbin calling your name until he touched your arm in concern.

“Huh?” You asked as you snapped out of it.

The alpha had a look of worry etched on his face, “You’ve been standing there in a daze for a few minutes, Baby. Are you ok?” His rough hand cupped your cheek and you leaned into it comfortingly.

You nodded, “Mmhmm. Sorry, just thinking.” Then you looked past him at everyone in the room, “Minho said dinner was about done.” As you said Changbins stomach let out a loud gurgle, causing the other boys present to burst into chuckles.

Changbin released your face with a wide grin, “Why didn’t you say so!” Then he cupped his hands over his mouth to project into the entire house.

“DINNER TIME EVERYONE!”

You giggled at his antics and everyone made their way into the dining room to enjoy a meal together.

---------------------------------------------

Dinner was a quieter affair, it seems like everyone was still mellowed out since the joint nap you all took, the tiredness still present. That's not to say it wasn't full of jokes, that will never stop. By the time you had all eaten and cleaned up it was now quite dark outside, the light completely disappearing behind the mountains.

Even though you slept away most of the day you could still feel the drowsiness behind your eyes. You were sitting in Chan's lap with your head resting against his chest while he joked with the other guys, the tv on in the background but no one was paying any attention to it.

Your alpha had his hand on your thigh, rubbing slow circles into your warm skin. He could sense you slipping away every now and again, and had decided it was time to take you to bed. You had a big day tomorrow, anyways.

“Are you ready for bed, omega?” He whispered against your hair, placing a kiss there.

You gave him a slow nod, “Mmhmm.” He scooped you up into his arms and stood from where you were both seated on the recliner.

“Say goodnight to the boys, baby.”

You lightly lifted your hand and gave them a wave, “Goodnight boys.”

“Goodnight, Baby!” They chorused, with Jisung adding in a little “I’ll miss you!” there at the end.

The tired giggle you let out almost made their hearts stop beating. It was so cute. “Miss you too Ji.”

Chan carried you up the stairs and into his room where he set you gently in his bed. You immediately nuzzled yourself into his comforter. He spoke softly to you, “Before you fall asleep there's something we have to talk about, Baby.”

There was a sudden inkling of anxiety in your stomach. Have you done something wrong? Were you being too much? What if he- You were brought out of your thoughts by Chan placing a chaste kiss on your mouth.

“I can almost see your brain running a million miles an hour, nothing is wrong Omega.” You felt yourself relax at his reassurance. “I was actually going to check in with you, about how you are feeling about the pack. And about what we had discussed a few days ago.” His hands were back on your thighs, the heat of his strong hands igniting something inside of you. “The other boys are quite fond of you, you know that baby?” He was staring deep into your eyes, smirking as if he could see how his hands were making you feel.

“I-I like them too.” You stuttered. you kept your answer vague, scared if you revealed how they make you truly feel it would upset the Alpha.

He hummed, his hands hiking up even higher-inching closer and closer to your core. He paused his movements, “ How much do you like them, my love? Do you like them enough to let them touch you like this?”

You were apprehensive to answer him, so he pressed further. “You know, if you're worried I’d be mad or jealous, that’s not something you have to be concerned about. In fact, I would prefer it if you wanted them like they want you.” He smirked at the hitch in your breath.

“And how do they want me, Alpha?” The words were almost a whisper as they left you, your tone breathy.

Chan let out a purr, “ They want you in all the ways I do.” His hands inched up ever closer but still not reaching. He leaned in close, his mouth almost on yours.

“Will you let them have you? Will you be a good omega and please your pack?”

The hesitancy was gone from you as you rapidly nodded at his questions, desperate for him.

“Yes Alpha. They can have all of me. Whatever they want I will give to them.”

“Good girl.” He praised, slotting his mouth over yours and finally letting his fingers find your core. The rough pads of his fingertips lightly rubbed over your (his) underwear, feeling the accumulating wetness that was making a dark spot. You let out a stuttering moan at his touch, hips instinctually raising to meet the touch.

He hummed, grinning devilishly “ Does my sweet omega like that?” He pressed harder against your pussy, pushing the fabric between your folds.

Nodding quickly you responded “Yes Alpha.”

Chan then placed his lips back on yours, his hand pulling away and finding the band of the underwear. He hooked his thumbs under each side and slowly dragged the garment down your thighs, his tongue running along the inside of your lips begging for entrance. You gave it to him gladly.

Once he had completely pulled the boxers from you he pulled his lips back slightly, still touching but not kissing. “You’re still too sore to take me, but I just have to reward my baby for being such a good girl.” His lips starting trailing wet kisses down your throat and continuing down your stomach where he lifted his shirt to reveal your breasts to him.

You were squirming in at his touch, eager to feel his mouth on you where you needed him most.

The alpha settled himself between your legs, spreading your thighs to make room for him. You were absolutely leaking. The crystalline liquid drips out of you causing the room to fill with the scent of you.

“Who made you like this, Baby?” He asked in between sloppy kisses to your thighs.

“Yo-you did, alpha.” You responded, panting in anticipation.

“Hmmm just me?” His eyes found yours, as if challenging your words. “ Are you sure about that?”

You paused, trying to find an answer. “Umm..”

He nipped at your soft thigh skin, leaving a red mark in his wake. “ You can be honest with me, omega. Have you thought about any of the other boys this way? Thought about any of them putting their mouths on your wet little pussy?” His tongue stuck out and he gave your clit a teasing lick.

“Alpha please.” There was no way you could answer that. You were too mortified at the prospect.

He growled at your avoidance “ Answer me, omega. You will get nothing if you don’t tell me what I want to hear. Do you think about them eating you like this?” He gave you another bite on the opposite side.

“Yes!” You couldn’t take it anymore. Morals be damned. “Yes, Alpha I have. m’ sorry!” Hands gripping the sheets below you.

At your honesty Chan licked a long strip starting at your hole up to your clit. The moan you let out was otherworldly, your hands finding his dark hair and yanking on the strands.

You tasted divine. Like the sweetest nectar from the ripest fruits. Chan felt his eyes roll to the back of his head at the taste.

“Please, alpha.” You begged, wanting- needing - to feel him again. At your pleads he dove into you, his tongue shoving its way into you looking for more of your sweetness. His lips found the little bundle of nerves and wrapped around it giving it a harsh suck.

“FUCK!” You bucked your hips, shoving him further into your pussy.

In retaliation he nipped at your clit and let out a deep growl, a glare in his eyes as they found yours. “Stay still or I will stop and leave you here with nothing. Do you understand me?”

You let out a quiet “Mmhmm” and his fingers came up to replace his mouth, rubbing tight circles on you.

“Tell me who you’ve thought about this with, baby?”

Your own hands left his hair and covered your face in embarrassment. “I can’t. It’s too much.”

Chans other hand that wasn't on your core reached up and roughly yanked your hands from your face, him now gripping the underside of your chin to turn your head to face him. Your eyes now locked on his as if he was seeing into your soul looking for answers.

“You will tell me, omega.” He was using an alpha command on you, since you were bonded to him you couldn’t refuse no matter how much you wanted too.

“Jisung.” You cried. “Was t-thinking about it earlier, Alpha.” More slick was leaking out of you at your admittance. This display of dominance shouldn’t turn you on as much as it does.

Chan gave you that predatory grin, pleased with your answer. “Sungie huh? How did

I know it was gonna be him. Good omega.”

He returned his mouth to you, this time with renewed vigor. His finger found its way inside of you, rubbing your walls with the calloused digit while his lips sucked you into the next dimension.

You were squealing and moaning, unable to contain the animalistic sounds that escaped you. The knot in your stomach was starting to form, all you needed was one push and you would be a goner. As if he could sense it, Chan slipped another finger inside of you causing you to topple over the edge.

You came with a long drawn out moan, Chan not letting up for even a second until your convulsions ceased. He wanted to drain you dry and that's what he had done.

Once you stopped shaking and were finally able to catch your breath Chan pulled away from you- his face soaked with your essence. “You taste so good, omega.” His fingers slipped out of you and he lifted them to your mouth. “Go on, taste yourself.” He urged. Your mouth opened wide enough for him to stick the digits in. Your tongue swirled around them, collecting the wetness. He couldn't help himself, he shoved his fingers further down your throat holding them there while you gagged around him. You didn’t fight him though, and just let him do whatever he pleased with you, like the good little doll you were.

Chan pressed a sweet peck to your stomach before removing his fingers from your mouth and crawling up to be face to face with you. When he was at eye level you grabbed him forcefully, connecting your lips with him and tasting more of your juices that lingered on his mouth.

He was the first to pull away after a few seconds, nuzzling your noses together and just breathing each other in.

“You did so good for me, baby. Thank you for being honest with me.” He was running his hands softly along your sides.

“You’re welcome alpha.” You responded quietly. “You’re not mad are you?”

He would have scoffed if you weren't so fragile right now.

“No baby of course not. It makes me happy you want him like that.”

Your shining eyes looked hopeful, “It does?”

“Mmm yes baby. You are theirs just as you are mine. Soon you’ll come to see it that way too.” You nodded at his words, the exhaustion now taking over. “Let's get you tucked in. You have a big day tomorrow. We have a few things to do in town tomorrow.” You nodded once more and let him tuck you in under his blankets. He placed a delicate smooch on your lips then forehead, and you were out like a light.

----------------------------------------------

Once you were asleep Chan sent a group text for a pack meeting out on the back patio. It was a warm night and he didn’t need you snooping in on this conversation if you were to wake up. He watched you slumber for a moment, taking in your peaceful features. He really did feel so lucky to have you. Everyday you proved yourself to be his dream girl.

He gave it another moment then made his way down the steps and outside where the other members were waiting for him, lounging on the outside furniture.A few of them gave the elder sly smiles, they could all hear exactly what the alpha had just been doing with you. Chan just rolled his eyes and smirked at their looks.

Chan took a seat on the ottoman by the sliding door, “Alright, I was wondering if anyone had any more problems we need to work through.” He scanned everyone's faces, “ I know it hasn’t been the smoothest of sailing the last few days but I think from here on out it will be better for everyone.” There were nods of agreement at his words.

Changbin was the first to speak, “How is she settling in? I hope we haven't been too.. Abrasive.”

Seungmin snorted, “That's rich coming from you.”

The alpha looked at him incredulously, “I am not that bad! Not as bad as your other fellow betas!” and pointed to Felix, Jisung and Hyunjin who all looked at him in disbelief at being called out.

“Hey, that's not fair! We’re a sensitive bunch and she's a sensitive girl! She needs us!” Hyunjin protested, the other two nodding furiously in agreement.

“Yeah she likes our kisses!” Jisung chimed in, then looked to Chan for confirmation. “Right hyung?”

“That’s another reason I wanted to call you all out here. Turns out she’s not as innocent as she lets on. She’s been having quite naughty thoughts about you boys.” Chan's smirk never left his face as he spoke. He watched each one of them have a reaction at his words.

Jeongin sputtered out “Is-is that okay with you Chan?” He was nervous his leader would change his mind and now be mad about it.

“Oh more than ok Innie.” Chan reassured him. “I have a feeling soon enough our little omega is going to be pretty insatiable and to be honest it would be a lot easier for me to have others to help take care of her needs. I mean, fuck, especially during her next heat it will be nice to have some help. My dick is still raw from that little minx.”

There was a collective groan at the prospect. They would have given anything to be there for the first one.

“While we’re talking about it there are a few things i want to discuss. As far as a claiming bite goes, it would be ok with me if you did bite her. Just not on the neck. And no cumming in her until we get her on some non-harmful birth control. I’d like to have time with her before we bring kids into the equation.”

They all nodded in understanding, agreeing with the alpha.

“Has she said who she's thought about, Channie?” Felix questioned with a dark flush on his face.

Chan tosses his head back and forth as if pondering the question, before answering teasingly “I may have gotten one out of her.” The beta looked hopeful. “Buuuuut I think I’ll let you guys figure it out.”

Felix pouted, crossing his arms. Minho was sat next to him and pinched his cheek, cooing at the younger beta.

“Aww lixie don’t pout. You know it's probably you.”

The red in Felixs’ cheeks darkened even more as he smacked Minhos hand away.

“I think it’s me!” Changbin boasted

“Nah, you should have seen her face after I carried her up the stairs earlier. Gotta be me.” Hyunjin said convincingly.

The boys just went back and forth, all trying to figure out who is the first one to catch your attention, not knowing it was literally all of them.

It was pure entertainment for Chan and Minho as they watched the others bicker.

Comments and reblogs are very much appreciated!

©doitforbangchan

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flowersandbigteeth · 7 months

Note

Now I’m thinking about how cute of a story it’d be if a human woman reader had a preference towards monster men, but she kept getting used by a lot of monster fetishists to fill their own fantasies. Getting her heart broken constantly as they didn’t see her as a being with real feelings. And eventually she gives up…But of course x monster comes into her life and tries his best to court her cause he actually does love her and see her as a person. Reader of course is very jaded and thinks he’ll use and abuse her too, just like all the others.

If you’re still interested in writing somber stories with a happily ever after in the end, something like this could be fun to explore. The ugly exploitive relationship dynamics taken onto human women by monster men.

Like just imagine reader is sitting in a park, having a picnic, a monster comes up to her, is pleasant, and reader thinks that this is going to be “the one” finally, and gets her heart broken again when he asks her for a one night stand. Or even worse…hands her a card to work at a human x monster exclusive private fetish club…

Um...so I ended up with something close to this, but kind of with a different spin. I've been wanting to do a mothman for soooooo long and this just came together in the right way. So here he is ^_^

Mothman (Roth) x f reader

Word Count: 9.5K

General Plot: Your gargoyle crush asks you out on a date and things don't go as planned.

TW: nsfw mothman smut, moth genetalia, a lot of teeth, kidnapping, sexy pheromones, a bit of violence, reader being tied up and gagged, revenge, mating and soft yandere vibes, bad boyfriends

“Five, ten, fifteen…fifteen,” you sighed counting your tips as you sat on the curb outside the kitchen of the Italian restaurant you worked at.

Tears bubbled in your eyes as you realized you hadn’t made nearly enough to cover the rent you were already late on.

“How you doing mite,” a deep voice rumbled behind you.

You heard a squeak and then a thunk as Tyre, the chef, dumped some trash. Wiping your eyes, you peered up at him, trying to hide the redness on your cheeks. Tyre was a handsome gargoyle with slate gray skin and piercing blue eyes. He smirked as your eyes met. Sniffling, you tried to clean up your face.

“Nothing, nothing, I’m fine.”

He glanced down at the odd dollars and some change in your hand.

“Bad night?”

You sighed.

“It’s always a bad night.”

He scratched his chin, eyes traveling from the top of your head to the slip-proof shoes you had to wear.

“There’s someplace I ought to take you,” he said, eyes taking on a predatory gleam. “You like monsters, right?”

You blushed, unsure what to say now that your secret wish seemed like it might be coming true. You’d always had a crush on Tyre. He was big and strong with a rakish smile that made all the waitresses swoon.

“Um…yeah, I guess.”

“Good,” he said, grinning. “You’re off tomorrow night. I saw it on the schedule.”

You were going to beg for another shift from one of the other waitresses, but if you were only going to make a few bucks, you figured you couldn’t pass up the chance for a date with your crush.

“Yeah,” you murmured, your breath a gasp.

He pulled a phone from an apron pocket and handed it to you.

“Put your address in here. I’ll pick you up. Wear something pretty.”

Overcome, you could hardly speak, typing your address and phone number into the phone.

“See you tomorrow night, mite,” he winked before walking back inside.

The door slam made you jump, but your heart was already pattering. Tyre had finally noticed you! Ever since you’d started that job, you’d been in love with him. It was true. You did like monsters, but not in a weird way. You were curious, but you were too shy ever to ask Tyre any questions about himself. You didn’t want him to think you were a weirdo fetishist trying to get in his pants for a thrill. But finally, he’d noticed you and asked you on a date!

Despite the lack of money in your pocket, you hopped up from the curb with a pep in your step. Maybe something was finally going right for you for once.

When you arrived home, you frowned at the yellow notice taped to your door.

EVICTION NOTICE: VACATE THE PREMISES WITHIN 15 DAYS OR YOU WILL BE REMOVED

Your breath caught in your throat, and you wondered if you should call Tyre and cancel your date. Walking inside, you frowned. Your apartment was small, if you could even call it an apartment. It was only one room with no kitchen or bathroom. You had to use the common toilet down the hall, and you either ate food you brought home from the restaurant or cooked noodles on your hotplate. Still, you couldn’t even afford this little closet.

Where were you supposed to go? Pulling out the crumpled fifteen dollars, you stuffed it in the large mug with all your tips. You already knew how much was inside. You counted it over and over again every night, hoping it would magically bloom to a higher sum.

One hundred and fifteen dollars. That’s how much you had to figure out a new home with. While tears bit at your eyes, your feet were exhausted from running around all day, so you flopped on your dipping air mattress and fell asleep.

You woke to the next morning to your phone buzzing and grinned at the message on the screen.

“Pick you up at 9.”

Scooping up the phone, you beamed. As you dropped it on your chest, you indulged yourself in a quick fantasy. You’d go on a date, Tyre would fall madly in love with you, and then you’d move into his flat, have his little gargoyle babies, and everything would turn out just fine. This had to have happened for a reason, right? All afternoon, you skipped around your apartment, trying on your meager array of outfits for just the right one.

When 9 came around, you sat on the edge of your bed, checking and rechecking the message. 9, he did say 9, right? Right. He’ll be here.

Thirty minutes later, there was a heavy knock on the door. You tripped over yourself to answer it, eyes lighting up the moment you met the cool blue on the other side. He looked you over, a meaty hand braced against the doorframe, showing off his massive biceps.

“Look at you, mite,” he said, brushing a curl of hair from your face. “You clean up nice.”

“Ah, thanks, Tyre. It’s nothing really,” you half whispered, words having a difficult time making themselves past your lips.

“Come on,” he said, taking you by the arm. “You’re gonna have fun where we’re going.”

“Where are we going?” you asked, from the inside of Tyre’s Denali, as he cruised down a dark alley.

You had only just realized it was a little late to be going to a restaurant, so where was he taking you? He only smirked at you, eyes glittering in the dim vehicle.

“You’ll see,” was all he would say.

You should have been concerned, but the truth was you were down bad. You were about to be evicted, had hardly any friends, and no boyfriend. Your last situationship with a werewolf had been a humiliating disaster. You needed this. He pulled into a parking lot, flashing a black card, and a gate lifted, allowing you inside.

“Here we are,” he said when he parked, circling the car to help you out.

When he’d set you on the ground, he frowned for a moment, scrubbing his chin.

“Let’s’ fix this,” he said, grabbing the tight skirt you were wearing and hiking it up your hips so it was more of a mini skirt. Then he yanked on the neck of your sweater, pushing it down over your shoulders.

“What? Where are we going?” you asked, getting a little more concerned.

He only looked at you lazily, reaching a hand down to smudge the makeup at the corner of your eyes more.

“A private club. Freaky girls like you love this shit,” he assured you, though he was becoming less and less assuring.

What did he mean by “freaky girls”? You were just a normal girl. You liked reading books and cooking when you had the chance. There was nothing “freaky” about you at all.

Grabbing your shoulders with his big hands, he shoved you forward through the dark lot. Around you, large, monster-sized, luxury vehicles were parked in neat rows. When you reached an odd metal door, he knocked with his knuckles. A hatch slid open, and bright green eyes peered out.

“What do you want?”

They narrowed on Tyre.

“You’re not welcome here.”

You gulped, cheeks reddening, looking between the pair of eyes and Tyre.

“Tell Roth I brought him a new girl,” he said, “Told him I’d pay my debt.”

The eyes flicked down to you for a moment, and the door squeaked open.

“Tyre, what is going-?”

You didn’t get a chance to speak as the large, man with pale skin and green eyes snatched your wrist up and dragged you away from him.

“Tyre! Tyre!” you half shouted, confused as he jerked you down a dark hall, but looking back, the gargoyle only smiled and waved at you.

“Stop screaming. You’re disturbing the ambiance,” the man holding you in his firm fist, hissed.

When he opened his mouth, you could see sharp fangs framing straight white teeth. The rest of your words caught in your throat as he dragged you through the club.

On a large platform in the center, human women dressed in skimpy outfits danced on stage to oddly alluring music. Where the bright stage lights didn’t shine, you could see monsters of all kinds with human women clinging to them engaged in a frightening variety of sexual activity.

Three gargoyles were sharing one woman, splayed on a table. A centaur had a woman strapped to him with some sort of harness, and your eyes popped when you saw the way he used her. Your heart started to race as you put two and two together.

You’d heard about these clubs. Places where well-paying monsters could play around with human women to fulfill their fetish fantasies. Yes, you liked monsters, but you would have never stepped into a place like this, not for all the money in the world! You experienced enough creepy fetishists as a waitress. It seemed the only time anyone offered you any real money was to take you home for a night of their own entertainment.

Betrayal cut you to the core, remembering Tyre’s words. He’d brought you here to repay a debt! He never had any plan of dating you at all! You were nothing more than a trinket to be traded!

Panic startled you to your senses, and you started to fight the vampire holding you.

“LET ME GO! LET ME GO!” you screamed, jerking so hard on your wrist that you thought you might break it.

He narrowed his eyes at you.

“Jesus, that bastard. He tricked you to come here, didn’t he?” he hissed, frowning.

He paused, thinking for a second, and for a moment, you thought he might let you go.

“Still, I’d better take you to Roth and see what he wants to do with you. Can’t have you running off to the cops and blowing up our whole operation.”

Clubs like these weren’t exactly legal. Along with the girls, they usually sold drugs and were the sort of place where you could hire a shady person to do below-board jobs.

To silence your screams, and to the amusement of a few of the monsters standing nearby with drinks, he slipped the tie from around his neck and tied it tightly around your head, before he stripped off his belt and used it to secure your hands. Then he flopped you over his broad shoulder, carrying you out of the larger room up a set of stairs. You bit on the gag, desperately trying to saw away at it with your teeth, but it was no use.

You couldn’t see, bouncing on his shoulder, but you heard a door open, and then you saw it shut.

“Tyre brought you a girl, boss,” he said.

Suddenly, he flopped you on the floor, forgetting you were a fragile human. You squealed as you hit the carpet hard, pain radiating up your side. Looking up, you froze in fear. The room was dim, the edges hardly visible, the only light a small lamp on a large wooden desk. Peering past the light, you met the gaze of two glowing, red orbs on the face of a dark body you could hardly make out. All you could tell was that it looked large.

“Why’s she tied up?”

The voice was almost a hiss, like silk sheets rubbing together.

“Tyre tricked her into coming here.”

The orbs disappeared for a moment, then appeared again along with a long sigh.

“That idiot.”

“What do you want me to do with her? Dump her? Put her on the floor? She’s pretty enough. She’ll make us some money.”

Your heart pounded, as your future was being discussed without you. Dump her?

“Leave,” the voice barked, sounding irritated.

You whimpered as you heard the heavy footsteps of the vampire leaving and the door slamming behind him. There was a rustling, and the big body behind the desk grew much larger. It wasn’t a shape you recognized, two large protrusions arching over either side of its head and then two more feathery-looking ones on top. Heavy steps echoed in the quiet room as it rounded the furniture and loomed over you.

A clawed hand emerged from the darkness, clutching your chin, slowly turning it from side to side as his red eyes examined you.

“Hmm. A little flame,” he purred.

You tried to scream again, but all that came out was a muffled whimper.

The protrusions jumped as the creature chuckled. The monster kneeled down next to you, and only then, you could make out his features, just barely. His neck was thick and fuzzy, as was his body, the angular slabs of muscles softened by a coating of black down. Up close, you could see the two side protrusions were actually silver wings, and the ones on top, were elegant antennae. They twitched as he looked you over. His facial features were invisible behind more black fuzz.

“I’ve been wanting a pet,” he said more to himself than you.

The red orbs narrowed to slits.

“Do you know what we do at this club?” he asked.

You’d gotten a pretty good idea when the vampire gave you the impromptu walk-through. So you nodded.

His lips cracked, and jagged white teeth glinted at you.

“Good.”

Clawed fingers slipped through your hair, scraping your scalp.

“You’ll be well fed and kept, but you are my pet. Mine.”

You let out another muffled squeal, shaking your head as tears tumbled down your cheeks. A thumb slid through the wetness before traveling to his red tongue.

“Mmm,” he said, smirking. “Even your tears are sweet.”

By that point, you were hyperventilating into your gag, the world getting spinny as you panicked. You’d started your night daydreaming about gargoyle babies, and now you were being adopted as some kind of fuck pet for a monster boss. Your breaths grew increasingly shallow until the darkness writhing at the edges of your vision merged into a large black spot, and the world went silent.

—

You jerked awake by the sound of screaming. The stone floor beneath your cheek was cold, so you sat up abruptly, only to awkwardly flop over onto your side. You were still gagged, but now you were bound by your ankles, as well as your wrists. The room you were in was dark except for a small lamp hanging from the ceiling. It put out just enough light to see the large figure of the mothman who’d taken you as his pet and an orc you didn’t recognize. You shrank back against the wall behind you, immediately afraid of what would come next, but their attention wasn’t on you.

Another scream pierced the air, making you wince. It sounded almost like…Tyre.

“Please! Please! She came willingly, I swear!” he said, his tone frantic, all the aloof coolness you’d crushed on erased.

“Did you tell her what we do here before you brought her?” the orc barked.

“She was dying to get her cunt pumped with monster cock. All those girls love that shit,” he spat. “She’s just a whore like the rest of them.”

“Tyre?” you murmured, but it only came out as a quiet grunt behind the gag.

Roth nodded at the Orc and you heard chain rattle, then a crunch as he whipped the heavy metal into Tyre’s face. For a moment, you almost felt redeemed. Like Roth might care about your honor, but his next words evaporated that thought.

“You know I don't like liars, Tyre,” he hissed, his voice still terrifyingly quiet and emotionless. “You brought me a problem. Now I've got to tie up a bunch of loose ends.”

You were shocked Tyre could still speak, though his words garbled.

“She's a slut! She wants it! Just ask her! She was ready to open her legs for me for nothing!”

Tears poured down your cheeks, hearing the gargoyle you'd been shyly admiring for a year now finally revealing what he really thought of you. He was just like your last monster “boyfriend” who’d dumped you when he realized you were more than just a doll to play with.

One night after hooking up, his phone started going nuts while he was sleeping. Unable to help yourself, you'd glanced at his texts, humiliated to find he'd been detailing his conquest to his packmates. You were just a joke.

A “monster-cock hungry slut,” in his words. You stupidly let him sleep peacefully through the night, only asking him about it in the morning. You remembered his sharp green eyes full of humor and his disgusting sneer when you'd confronted him.

“What'd you think this was? You really think a weak little human like you is good for anything but a quick fuck? Don’t fool yourself. You wanted my knot like a dirty little bitch in heat and I gave it to you. End of story.”

You broke into big, ugly, wet sobs as your whole world collapsed around you. Your body shuddered against the gritty cold floor, tears forming dark spots on the surface.

Across the room Roth’s antenna twitched. He gave the orc a look before crossing the room to crouch down next to you. He dug a thick hand into your hair, lifting your head. Your tears blurred his glowing eyes to wobbly blobs.

“You're crying for him? Is he telling the truth? Are we wrong to punish him?”

You sniffed, whimpering and shook your head. He dropped your hair abruptly, the gesture suddenly becoming something close to comfort. He patted your head a little stiffly as if he wasn't sure what to do with you.

You watched him blink, looking away for a moment before he scooped you up, curling his wings around the two of you. He carried you back across the room, turning your face into his soft chest before he spoke.

“I want his teeth when you're done with him,” he hissed at the Orc.

Tyre begged behind you, his voice brassy.

“She's lying! That bitch is lying!”

Roth didn't even flinch, striding confidently out of the room. As he carried you down a dark hall you heard screams following you until they finally faded.

Roth walked slowly up a long staircase until he reached an elevator. It occurred to you, every room you’d been in was dim, this elevator included, just light enough for someone with average eyesight not to trip over themselves.

Your stomach dropped as the elevator ascended, finally letting out an echoing DING when it reached the desired floor.

He stepped forward and you peeked out from behind his wing.

You were in a beautiful, but dark penthouse. Through the wall to wall windows you could see the stars of the night sky twinkling through. The furnishings were expensive, all black and chrome.

“Welcome home,” the mothman said, his voice ever soft.

He set you down on a black couch and you flinched as he crouched in front of you. His long nails picked at the knots binding your wrists and ankles until they were free.

The moment your limbs were your own again, you slid to the opposite side of the couch, frantically untangling the gag.

“Let me go!” were the first words that bubbled out of your lips.

Roth’s blood eyes narrowed at you. It was unnerving you couldn't really read his expression, his facial features obscured by dark fur.

“Go where?” he asked, calmly, his head tipped to the side. “I had my associates look into you. (Y/N), broke waitress, evicted…where will you go?”

Your cheeks burned that he knew so much about you.

“I don't know. Not here. Not a pet.”

“You'll live better here as a pet than on the street as a stray.”

You blinked and he was a few feet closer to you, stretching his long fingers out to drag a knuckle down your cheek.

“No matter. I'm not letting you go.”

You snorted.

“Until you get bored with me and toss me out again.”

His eyes became narrow slits.

“Did someone throw you out, (Y/N)?”

Your eyes burned into his, heavy with rage. This was just the cherry on your monster loving cake wasn't it? At least, he was honest and called you what you were to him. A toy. A pet. An object to break and throw away.

“It doesn't matter. You're all the same.”

You heard a hiss and then his claws pricked your cheeks, pinching your face. Bright eyes filled your vision.

“Are we?” He asked.

Your confidence faltered and you swallowed a lump in your throat.

“You own a human fetish club. Explain to me how I'm wrong. You see us as weak objects to be passed around.”

He bared his sharp teeth at you.

“You will not be passed around. You. Are. Mine.”

You drew your legs underneath your chin, glaring at him, but winced as a sharp pain shot through you.

“Ouch!”

His eyes widened and his fingers left your cheeks, clawing at the tight skirt you still wore. You tried to wiggle away, but his wing boxed you in so he could glide a thumb over your bare skin. It seemed impossible he could see anything in such a dark room, but he growled at the painful spot on your hip where you'd landed when the vampire dropped you.

“Don't!” you hissed, jerking your skirt down.

You watched his eyes open and shut, before he stood.

“Damian!” he said so softly, you weren't sure who he was talking to.

You jumped as an elegant Naga appeared, wiping his hands with a towel.

“You called, sir?” He asked his yellow eyes drifting to you only for a moment before they returned to Roth.

“Bring Vince. Make her some food.”

The Naga nodded sharply and disappeared.

He sat next to you on the couch, stretching his wings slowly and resting his forearms on the tops of his legs. Seeing him closely, now, you could see he was tall with broad shoulders, not including his massive wingspan.

“The girls I employ want to be here,” he said, turning his face to you. “They get paid well and they enjoy their work.”

“Is that your pitch?” you sneered.

He flashed his teeth, chuckling.

“No, you won't be working the floor, but you should know the facts,” he said. “Tyre broke a pact bringing you here. I don't kidnap humans.”

“Except me.”

“You're a unique situation.”

“I won't tell anyone if you let me go,” you promised.

He was hard to read, but you got the impression he was examining you.

“I'm not letting you go. I want you.”

“What the fuck does that mean?” You blurted, your heart starting to race again.

Roth didn't have to answer as the elevator dinged and the vampire from before stepped out.

“You hurt her. Apologize.”

Vince’s eyes found you and his eyebrows rose. Giving the mothman a contrite glance, he crossed the room, bending down to one knee in front of you and dipping his head.

“Apologies, miss, I was too rough with you. It won't happen again.”

“Good. Get back to work,” Roth said, tone blunt.

“Have a pleasant evening, miss.”

Vince stood and winked at you with a little smirk, before he boarded the elevator again and disappeared.

“Come here, you need to eat,” Roth said, gesturing for you to follow him.

You wanted to say no, but you hadn't eaten, expecting a quiet dinner with Tyre so you slowly got to your feet and crept after him.

In the dining room Damian had set the table with a little flickering candle and red roses. Roth politely pulled out your seat for you, encouraging you to sit down. Though you were hungry, you glared at the food in front of you as he took his own seat.

“Something wrong?” he asked placing a napkin in his lap.

“How do I know you haven’t drugged this?”

“Why would I?”

You blinked at him, opening and closing your mouth as you thought of what accusations to spew.

“I don’t know! So you can have your way with me or whatever!”

Though you couldn’t see his lips, a triangle of teeth appeared as if he were smirking.

“I don’t need to drug your food to do that. Personally, I would rather my lover be conscious when I have her.”

You crossed your arms.

“How many lovers have you had?”

He snorted, picking up his knife and carefully cutting his meat into little cubes.

“That’s a rather personal question little flame,” he said, before sticking a bit of meat in his mouth and chewing. “What would you say if I asked you the same thing?”

Your cheeks burned, realizing it was a very rude question. His low, scratchy voice drove you insane. Every word he spoke was soft, deliberate, and calm. None of your fussing seemed to move him, much. Unsure what else to say, you turned your attention to your food. The first bite was apprehensive, but after you’d swallowed that, your hunger took over and you quickly consumed the rest.

“Damian is a good cook,” you commented.

“I can tell he’s happy to have someone new to cook for,” he said, scooting a vegetable out of the way with his fork. “I usually have the same thing every night but this is new.”

Your cheeks burned that he’d made such an effort, but with nothing left on your plate, you weren’t sure what to do next.

“Come with me,” he said rising.

You narrowed your eyes on the vegetables he’d left behind, only eating the meat, but followed him out of the room.

The penthouse was large and airy, the atmosphere perfumed with rows of night blooming flowers arranged in planters outside of the open glass doors.

“You keep the doors open?” you asked.

“Though I enjoy my luxuries, my people rested in trees for thousands of years. I like to feel the breeze,” he explained. “Don’t be concerned. You are very safe here. I have security posted everywhere.”

Your eyes jumped to your forehead hearing that.

“Are you often under attack?”

“My business is a dangerous one, but I’ve been at it for many years. You are safe. This is our room.”

He opened a heavy door and led you into a sumptuous bedroom. A four poster bed sat at the center with silver chiffon curtains fluttering in the breeze flowing in through the open balcony doors. Moonflowers and datura swayed on an arbor framing the entrance, the moon hanging in the center. It’s blue light cast a silver glow over the plush white chairs and vanity.

“Our room?” you gulped. “I have to sleep with you?”

He chuckled.

“I don’t sleep on a bed, usually,” he said. “My kind sleep upright on a perch. The bed is for your comfort.”

You shuddered, a dark thought passing through your head.

“H-how…how did you know you would need that?”

In the darkness, you followed his red eyes.

“Damian brought it up while you were resting.”

You wrinkled your nose. Collapsed from panic on a hard stone floor while he tortured Tyre was hardly resting. He suddenly turned to you, grabbing you by your waist and placing you gently on the bed.

“W-what are you doing?” you mewled as his claws curled around the edge of your skirt, scooting it further up your thigh.

He pinned you with a glance, before turning his attention to the bedside table and extracting a little pot. Opening it, he scooped some gel from inside and carefully smoothed it over the darkened bit of skin where a bruise was forming. It tingled, easing the slight ache.

His eyes lingered on the patch of skin, before his claws split the fabric.

“Stop! Stop it!” you screeched, trying to push him away with your smaller hands.

It was only then you really understood how strong he really was. He didn’t budge, but captured your wrists in a hand while the other shredded your sweater.

“I’ll buy you better clothes,” he assured you when you were sitting underneath him in only your underwear.

You regretted wearing your skimpiest pair, as you’d planned on seducing Tyre with them. Now you felt naked and vulnerable, the red light of Roth’s eyes outlining your curves.

He swallowed, heavily, making a small grunt in the back of his throat before he released you and stood.

“Sleep.” he said, glancing over his shoulder. “The sun is rising.”

Peering past him, you could see the sky getting ever so slightly lighter. He pressed a button and heavy blackout blinds lowered automatically. The sliding door slid shut, making the room pitch black except for Roth’s eyes still shining in the dark.

You let out a yip as his wings fluttered, stirring the air in the room and he delicately perched on the rail at the end of the bed.

“Are you going to watch me sleep all day?” you barked, crossing your arms.

“Yes.”

You sputtered your displeasure, but weren’t sure what to say. Hurriedly scooting under the coverlet, without meaning to you let out a satisfied hiss as you sank into the bed. Having slept on a droopy air mattress for many years, this bed felt like you were nestled in clouds. As much as you would have liked to stay awake, glaring at Roth until he went away, your eyes slid shut and you drifted off.

–

“Miss, miss,” you heard a voice in your ear.

You pried your eyes open, taking a moment to remember where you were. Sitting up suddenly, you were met with Damian’s yellow gaze.

“Time to wake up,” he said, “I have breakfast for you in the dining room.”

You blinked, realizing you could see him fairly well, and glanced at the windows to see the blackout blinds had been lifted and the sun was well on it’s way below the horizon.

“But it’s evening,” you muttered.

He smirked, slithering around you to open a door and then another.

“We operate on the boss’s clock here. Mothmen like the dark, they don’t see to well in the sunlight. Here, this is the bathroom and the closet is here. I spent the afternoon purchasing you some new clothes, but if you’d like something else, just tell me.”

“Oh, um…okay.”

Damian gave you a slight bow and slid out of the room, shutting the door behind him. Taking a breath, you climbed out of the coverlet, first examining the balcony. Standing just in the doorway, since you were still dressed in lingerie, you could see the whole city spread out before you, streetlights flicking on one by one as the sun set.

On the deck, along with the flowers, was a swinging chair and a small fish pond. You watched the white finned fish swimming in lazy circles below a few lotus flowers before you went back inside.

Poking your head in the bathroom, you found it was quite luxurious and to your surprise when you flicked the switch a real light turned on, not the dimmed bulbs everywhere else. Damian, you guessed, had stocked it with a fresh electric toothbrush and all the essentials. Oddly, there were either the exact products you had in your bathroom or the not value brand versions. Instead of the face cream you used, there was a high end cream you’d always dreamed of buying. The same with the makeup, hair supplies, and soaps. Satisfied you had what you needed, you crept into the closet.

It was one of those fancy closets, you’d seen in magazines with clothes arranged by color and an island in the center full of shelves holding jewelry, scarves, shoes, and-

A sharp scream burst from your lips.

Damian appeared in the doorway, out of breath as if he’d been slithering at top speed.

“What’s wrong?” he gasped.

You pointed a shaking finger at what was a multi compartment jewelrybox, but instead of jewels inside there were carefully arranged, polished, teeth. Hundreds of teeth.

“What the fuck is that?” you squealed, jumping behind Damian’s body as if he could shield you from them.

He let out a sharp breath, looking relieved.

“Heavens, I thought something was wrong,” he sighed.

Your eyes darted between him and the box of teeth.

“There IS something wrong! What the fuck?”

“That’s the boss’s collection,” he said.

“D-do those teeth come from people?” you whispered. “Are they real?”

Damian nodded as if that was the most perfectly normal thing in the world.

“He likes to collect the teeth of his enemies. It’s some mothman cultural thing. It’s kind of neat if you take a good look at them. There are specimens from several species.”

“He keeps them in his closet?”

“Where else would he keep them?”

You felt light headed and slumped against the vanity sitting just by the closet door. Were Tyre’s teeth already part of the collection?

“It’s part of his culture, (Y/N),” he said. “Children in your culture put their teeth under their pillow for their parent’s to collect. Think of it that way.”

You shook your head, rubbing your eyes.

“Please, please stop. I don’t want to hear any more.”

“Is anything else the matter? Do you like your clothes?” he asked pleasantly.

“I-I didn’t get a chance to look.”

Damian nodded and slipped into the closet, returning with a handful of items.

“Why not wear this outfit,” he said. “I saw it on a Pinterest board and I think it will suit your figure.”

“Er…thanks,” you said, taking the pile as he slipped out of the room so you could dress.

You took a long shower, trying to clear your mind of the teeth cache you’d stumbled across. When it was finally time to put on clothes, you had to admit, the outfit Damian had chosen was quite stylish, though you looked a bit like a mafia wife with a diamond tennis necklace around your neck and matching bracelets on your wrist.

You crept down the hall to the dining room to find Roth waiting on you, surrounded by paperwork. You yelped when to his side you saw another monster you recognized handcuffed and gagged on his knees next to him. His nose was bloody and one eye was swollen.

“What the- Elijah…what?”

Roth’s eyes rose to you, lingering for a moment before he gestured towards your breakfast.

“Eat, your food is getting cold,” he murmured, turning his attention back to whatever he was working on as if the monster by his calf wasn’t eyeing you for help.

You hardly noticed if the fluffy pancakes Damian had provided were good or not, because you were trying to sort out what the monster “boyfriend” who’d jilted you a year ago was doing handcuffed in the dining room. It was hard to know where to look and words escaped you as your mind spun with messy thoughts.

Halfway through your meal, Roth gathered his stack of papers and tapped them on the desk to straighten them before he spoke.

“Now that that’s all done,” he said. “Time to other business.”

He stood, dragging Elijah by his collar along the table to you, leaning on it casually as if everything about this wasn’t very, very illegal.

“What would you like me to do with this one?” he asked, a clawed hand slipping through your freshly washed hair.

You stared up at him for a moment, a bite of pancake still half chewed in your mouth before you swallowed it hard. Your mind’s eye immediately went to the tooth collection in the closet.

“Um…I don’t know? What do you mean ‘do with him?’”

Elijah whimpered loudly, begging for mercy.

Roth’s eyes narrowed and he kicked him sharply to get him to sit still.

“Well, I can give him to my boys and have his teeth extracted or you can keep him around the club polishing the girl’s shoes if it makes you feel any better. They make a game of bullying miscreants. I’ll only take his fangs and claws if you’d like to show him mercy. But he’s not getting away without a punishment.”

He grabbed the werewolf, by the neck, his red eyes reflecting in Elijah’s green.

“Monsters like you make me sick. I ought to take your balls.”

He pried his lips apart, his thumb running over a fang. Though Roth’s voice was low, it was thick with a terrifying cruelty.

“All that power, all the gifts you’ve been given and you use them to trick the ones smaller than you. You could have had a willing human woman on her knees in front of you playing whatever games you like, but you get off on torturing the sweet ones.”

Elijah’s eyes were wide, full of terror. They flicked to you, begging for forgiveness.

“I don’t want you to kill him,” you said, your voice thin.

Roth looked up at you and tipped his head to the side.

“Pity.”

His eyes flicked down to his captive.

“I suppose you have a new job, hm?”

He narrowed his eyes again, head dipping down so he was close to Elijah’s snout.

“(Y/N) is very kind. I am not. If you get into trouble, I’ll take what’s left of your teeth and dump the rest of you in a ditch. Understand?”

Vince appeared from the shadows making you jump and dragged Elijah out.

“Have fun with the girls!” he called after him.

“Was that really necessary?” you asked, glaring at Roth. “Yes, he broke my heart, but his fangs? His claws? Threatening to kill him?”

Roth slipped a knuckle under your chin, his eyes arcing in what must have been a smile.

“My job is not easy and my world is not kind. Strength and cruelty are sometimes required to take care of the ones who can’t help themselves. That’s the way things are.”

You huffed.

“You’re horrible.”

Fangs flashed in the dimming purple light streaming in through the window behind you.

“I’ll happily be horrible so you can always stay sweet. My methods may be unappetizing, but it’s worth is to see the truth reflected in your eyes. You deserve to feel justice.”

He leaned towards you, searching your gaze.

“And even if you won’t admit it, I can see that you do.”

Your eyebrows jumped and your ears burned.

“H-how did you even know about him?”

“I went through your text messages.”

“You have my phone? Give it to me!”

He shook his head.

“You haven’t properly settled in yet. I’ll give you a new one when you’ve come to accept your place here.”

“What is that supposed to mean?”

“You’ll soon get used to it. Come on.”

He beckoned you to get up, leading you towards the elevator.

“I have a use for you,” he said.

You flinched, narrowing your eyes at him as your heart tightened in your chest.

“What use?”

“The girls always have things they need. Some new brand of makeup comes out or melting spray, whatever that means. I have no idea, but I’m sure you do. Can you handle a budget?”

You nodded, more curious now that your “use” wasn’t anything alarming.

“All you have to do is receive their requests and figure out what we can afford to buy every month, what’s most important and all that. Then hand over your report and I’ll have one of the guys deal with the order. Simple enough?”

“Sure,” you agreed.

He patted you on the head and you peered up at him, trying to read his expression as the two of you landed on the first floor. The club was empty this early in the evening, except you could hear the titter of women through one of the doors that led to the back. A cyclops was restocking the bar, slicing limes and he nodded to you politely when you met his gaze.

Without writhing bodies, you could see that it was a very pretty place. Tufted benches in Navy blue velvet formed curved shapes housing glossy hardwood tables. The walls appeared to be some kind of fabric with an elaborate swag curtain arrangement softening the corners. The bar was a slick snake-like shape running along one wall, the liquor bottles lined up to the ceiling lit up by gold light.

A woman with bright pink hair came rushing through a side hallway, looking in her purse for something, almost slamming right into you.

“Oh sorry!” she squeaked, looking up.

Her eyes widened at you, then looked to Roth.

“New girlfriend, boss?” she asked, a sly smile growing on her face.

Glancing up at him, you couldn’t tell behind his black fuzz, but you almost thought he might be blushing.

“I’m Candy,” she beamed, shaking your hand.

Roth waved at you.

“(Y/N) will be taking your supply requests from now on,” he explained and she narrowed her eyes at him.

“You’re putting your girlfriend to work?” she pouted, slipping an arm around yours and pulling you close. “Shame on you! You ought to spoil this rare blessing! You’ve been waiting long enough, haven’t you? You’re going to chase her away if you work her to the bone!”

“Candy!” he growled, obviously a little annoyed, but she just waved him away.

“Mr. Roth acts tough, but he’s got a gooey center,” she said, her bright eyes filled with mischief. “You’d better take him for all he’s worth! He’s been wanting a girlfriend for as long as anyone can remember, but never could find the right one.”

She winked at you.

“The girls and I like variety but Mr. Roth is so sentimental he can’t stand the idea of sharing. He’s always wanted one little flower to spoil. It’s so cute. You’re his first girlfriend, you know. He’s never brought another woman here. We would know if he did.”

“Oh!” you said, glancing back up to him.

You were sure he was blushing now, though you couldn’t see it.

“Jesus,” Roth grumbled, hiding his face with a clawed hand. “Aren’t you running late, Candy?”

She grinned.

“I can’t wait to tell the girls about this!” she chirped before she smooched you on the cheek and ran off.

Roth sighed, looking at you for a moment, before a thumb rose to your cheek and he rubbed away Candy’s lipstick.

“Don’t listen to her,” he grunted, turning quickly and leading you to his office. “The girls pretty much run this place and they get silly ideas in their heads. Meddlers, all of them.”

“I am I really your first girlfriend?” you asked his back as he walked into his office. “I’m not really your girlfriend, though. You said I was your pet.”

He plopped down at his desk, waving you over.

“It doesn’t matter what I call you,” he griped, grabbing you by your hips and setting you on his desk. “You’re mine.”

Your head tipped to the side.

“Why haven’t you had a girlfriend before? You’re rich and powerful. Don’t women fall all over you?”

He leaned back in his chair, letting out a tight breath.

“My kind mate once, for life,” he explained. “It’s very…serious. Most women don’t like that sort of…intensity hanging over their heads from the start.”

Your eyes widened, watching the stiff personality he’d been so carefully trying to cultivate melt in front of you.

“So you haven’t had any other lovers?” you asked.

He fiddled with the hem of your skirt, refusing to answer.

“Is that why you’re so hard on sleazy monsters?”

At that his eyes lifted to meet yours, and his thumb absently slipped over your thigh.

“Being so crass and careless is a sacrilege among my people. Breaking a soul who might be someone’s sacred mate is considered a crime punishable by death.”

You looked down at your fingers, suddenly feeling an ache in your chest. It should have been a relief, not a pain. He would get bored and let you go someday. Now you knew that for certain.

“Am I just a placeholder until your real mate comes along?” you whispered, the words slipping past your lips, though you tried so hard to keep them in.

He chuckled, lowering his head to fill your vision with his bright eyes.

“I just told you. We mate to one person only. I wouldn’t have brought you to my bedroom if I intended to have someone else.”

“Why didn’t you just say that? Why be so distant? You scared me. If you’d wanted to mate me, holding me against my will is not exactly how to start a relationship.”

At that his eyes avoided yours.

“Like I said…women tend to run when they find out we mate for life. Humans aren’t like us. Your kind have lots of different partners and you break partnerships when they no longer suit you. If I don't force you to stay with me, you might leave."

You had no idea what possessed you, but you placed a hand on his cheek and pulled his face towards you, forcing him to meet your gaze. Your fingertips sank into the soft fuzz and you liked the way it tickled your skin.

“Not all of us,” you whispered. “Some of us just want one person we can be with forever.”

“Is that what you want?” he asked.

The words left your lips on a silvery note.

“That’s all I’ve ever wanted.”

He pulled you into his lap, curling his wings around the two of you.

“I can give you that, if you let me.”

A light giggle filled the little space for just the two of you.

“I suppose I don’t have much of a choice,” you tittered. “You don’t plan on letting me leave.”

“No,” he murmured. “But if you stayed because you wanted to it would mean a lot to me. It’s okay if you don’t feel it now. I’ll spend our lifetimes trying to convince you.”

Your head tipped against his soft chest, feeling a strange giddiness a lady shouldn’t feel towards her kidnapper, especially one who had a large collection of the teeth of the people he’d murdered in his closet.

You were fairly certain monsters had driven you to madness. None of your dramatically swaying feelings made any sense… but your “enemies” had been defeated, you’d had the best sleep you’d had in a long time in a big comfy bed, and you were wearing half a million dollars in diamonds. Objectively, your quality of life had wildly improved from the day before when you were sitting on a dirty curb clutching fifteen dollars.

For the first time, you felt his soft lips against your forehead and your head tipped up, following them. When you pressed yours against his, you felt a shudder roll through his chest, making your skin tingle. His clawed hands slipped into your hair, holding your head in place while he explored.

You felt his breath fanning your face, panting into your kiss and underneath your fingertips his heart raced, causing yours to skip as well. An arm reached behind you and you heard sundry items clatter on the floor as he laid you out on his desk.

His tongue explored your mouth, tasting like cinnamon, as his fingers clutched your cheek. Fear and anticipation muddled your thoughts. Part of you was still unsure, but the other part knew it was too late for doubts. Your body was ready to surrender, panties damp and thighs sticky.

You gasped underneath him, his wings forming a silvery cave tinted with the glow from his red eyes. You ran your fingers through the soft feathers and felt him shudder with appreciation. Notching his body between your legs, he pulled only an inch away, looking at you.

“I will keep you no matter what, but this I will not take without permission,” he murmured. “Just know, if you accept me. I won’t tolerate competition. I’ll murder anyone who dares to touch you and take their teeth.”

Your cheeks burned, blinking at him through a heady veil of pleasure, his scent carrying notes of the moonflowers decorating his home. This was the key moment. You could refuse him and go back to being his reluctant captive…or you could become his.

“Okay,” you whispered, your heart answering the question before your still unsure mind. “I…ah…I accept you.”

His lips covered yours again as he let out a needy grunt, this kiss more desperate and claiming. You felt the prick of his sharp teeth as yours slid against his, the thrill of danger sending lightening bolts up your spine. You could feel the strength in his fingers as they moved over you and the weight of his body as he pressed you into the desk.

His claws curled around the neck of your blouse and he jerked ito down, exposing the tender breasts perched in your bra. You dragged in a heavy breath tasting oddly like cinnamon, the small space under his wings suddenly feeling thick with the scent.

Your body grew hot and sensitive, each brush off his soft fuzz making your skin tingle wildly. You suddenly felt light headed and needy, your mouth watering at the taste of his tongue.

“W-what’s happening?” you gasped when he pulled back to press kisses into your neck. “I feel hot…”

His hands cupped your breast as you felt his lips agonizingly brush your sensitive skin as he spoke.

“My pheromones are binding you to me,” he hummed and your heart skipped a beat.

“What?” you hummed, pushing your breasts into his big hands for more pressure.

“My pheromones are designed to make mating more pleasurable…to make me irresistible to you.”

You gasped, but your mind was getting ever hazier as the scent wound around you. Your hips bucked into his stomach, begging for what you wanted.

“Not yet,” he purred, pulling a tender nipple into his mouth. Colors exploded behind your eyelids, feeling more pleasure flood your system than you’d ever experienced before.

You’d had enough lovers and a few good orgasms, but this blew that all out of the water like a nuclear bomb and you hadn’t even cum yet. Your back arched and you screamed as his long, agile tongue curled around your nipple.

The slight prick of his claws bit your skin as his fingers played with the other one, alternating between teasing plucks and firm rolls. The small panties you wore were soaked through and your thighs ground against his hips for more friction. Every inch of skin felt as sensitive as your clit, the fuzz all over his body feeling maddeningly good against it. Your fingertips dug into the thick collar of fur around his neck, wanting to just rub him all over you.

He let our pleased hums as grunts as your fingers couldn’t decide where they wanted to be, one moment clutching his neck, then his head, then scratching at this chest. The room filled with your desperate mewls, begging him in slurred words for his cock.

“That’s right,” he murmured on a smug chuckle. “You’re all mine, little flame. Only I can give you what you need.”

His kisses trailed down your stomach, his soft, delicate antennae caressing your skin as he moved lower. Claws shoved your skirt off your hips, exposing your panties to him and his long tongue slid up and down your slit. You heard the sound of tearing fabric and then his breath on your sensitive lips. His tongue dipped inside of you and you suddenly understood the actual length of it, easily filling your weeping pussy.

“Roth!” you gasped, fingers looking for something to clutch and finding a few odd feathers to wrap in your grip.

You heard him hum as he licked you up, making your eyes cross as the vibration drew a blooming orgasm from your core. Whimpering, with tears streaming down your cheeks you felt the agile appendage lapping up your juices, while his thumb found your clit.

He circled it slowly, making your thighs tense so tightly you thought you might pop. Pleasure zapped you like a lightening bolt, the electricity lighting up every nerve until your whole body felt like it was cumming all at once. Your head dropped to the side, drool leaking over your cheek as your eyes rolled back in your head.

You weren’t sure you could take much more. Making love had never been like this. Your mind couldn’t process what his pheromones were doing to you.

Finally, Roth couldn’t hold back anymore, standing so he loomed over you, only his red eyes visible in the darkness. His fingers slipped past your open lips, holding you you in place as you felt his thick shaft investigate your pussy. It felt a little strange, your skin so sensitive it could make out every detail. Though velvety skin still covered it’s girth, the head was more elongated than a humans, ending at a slightly sharper angle with a pronounced ridge bisecting it. Smooth bumps formed a line running vertically along the shaft and something…or some things grasped your thighs like little fingers, holding them open. Your confusion as what was holding your legs apart melted away when he snapped his hips and his cock entered you.

A ragged roar filled your ears as he bottomed out inside of your channel. You could tell by the way the fingers in your mouth flexed, he was doing his best to hold back, not to hurt you. He was still for a moment, as he gathered his resolve, but you had other ideas, sucking on his fingers lewdly, your wet tongue tracing his claws.

He bent down on top of you, fingers fleeing your hot mouth and wrapping around your neck.

“Naughty girl,” he gasped as you bucked your hips, the little nubs lining his shaft making you whimper.

You could hardly see him, but you knew he could see you and you were getting annoyed with him trying to be gentle. Pulling your tits out of your bra, you kneaded them shamelessly, pressing the flesh against the arm holding your throat and arching your back so he couldn’t avoid the dirty show.

You couldn’t hold back your victorious smirk as he let out a hungry growl and his hips started to batter your soft flesh. His eyes disappeared into the darkness as instinct overtook him, rutting you wildly. Strong fingers tightened on your throat, only ratcheting up the spice swirling through every limb like a savage tornado.

Drowning in pure bliss, hot tears poured down your cheeks, your body jerking underneath his as he pounded into you. Nonsense poured from your lips, rational thought swept away in the storm. When the sensation reached it’s peak you felt like your body might shatter into a million pieces and you welcomed the oblivion that overtook you. Body shuddering violently as you fell over the edge.

Your wet, needy cunt, clamping down on Roth’s cock so suddenly made his body respond in the way it was designed. His shaft suddenly inflated to twice it’s original girth, stretching you decadently before he cursed and you felt ropes of searing cum splash against your sucking walls.

You could hear heavy panting and it took you a moment to realize it was your own breath. Roth let out a long, groaning sigh, his body slumping on top of yours, only stopped by a strong arm bracing the desk.

His bright red eyes returned, looking somehow more entrancing than before. Everything about him seemed…more. His cinnamon, flower laced scent stuck to you and his soft fur felt luxurious. Even the sound of his ragged breaths tickled your ears in a sumptuous way.

“You’re…different,” you muttered, brain having trouble putting words together.

He let go of your throat, a thumb brushing your bottom lip as his hand clutched your cheek.

“My pheramones have soaked into your body,” he purred. “You’re mine now. I’ve marked you.”

“Oh,” you hummed, eyes slipping shut, as you felt the aftershocks of your love making roll over you.

Whatever little claspers were holding your legs retreated and as his cock slipped out of you, cum and slick splashed on the wood floor.

He scooped you into his arms, pulling you into his lap as he peppered soft kisses on your forehead.

“Are you okay?” he asked, fingers, absently stroking your hair.

“Mhmm,” you hummed. “Will it always be like that…now that you’ve marked me?”

“Yes,” he said, twirling a bit of hair around his finger. “Now that we’re bonded…I can’t control my pheremones. They…have a bit of a mind of their own and their purpose now is to reinforce the bond.”

A knock at the door sobered you a bit as you tugged your shirt back up to cover your boobs.

“Who is it?” he called, still so quiet you weren’t sure how anyone heard him.

“Vince,” said the vampire on the other side of the door.

“Is it an emergency?”

“No.”

“Go away.”

“Got it, boss.”

He tucked the bit of hair he was twirling behind your ear and smiled.

“Do you want a snack?”

Your eyes met his with all of the earnestness in the world.

“Yes. I would love that!”

He pulled out his phone and texted someone before setting you back on his desk and leaning back in his chair, looking deeply satisfied and proud of himself. You flopped over on your stomach, kicking your heels in the air and resting your chin on your arm.

“Do we have to work now?” you asked, batting your eyelashes at him.

He looked at you for a moment before answering.

“No…What do you want to do?”

“I kind of want to get to know you a little better…Since I’m bonded to you or whatever.”

“Okay,” he said, stretching his arms behind his head. “What do you want to know first?”

You blinked at him.

“Why do you have hundreds of teeth in your closet?”

814 notes · View notes

macfrog · 1 year

Text

mile high sex on fire chapter three

we're going overseas baby! (this is gonna be a three-parter cause i hyperfixated and couldn't stop myself so BUCKLE UP) author's note: i absolutely do NOT condone the use of private jets. they are GROSS and terrible for the environment and just fucking fly commerical ok? but in this ceo!joel ficland, private jets are fuelled by delusion and emit only clean, pure oxygen. thank you for reading. now, with that in mind, please enjoy reader being railed in a plane cabin. i love u all to paris n back 🤍🥐

pairing: ceo!joel x fem!reader

summary: you accompany joel on a work trip to paris, to eat good food, drink expensive wine, and…get to know each other a little better

warnings: 18+ (minors dni!!!) environmental crime, plane sex, fingering, handjob, unprotected piv sex, daddy kink, joel being a fucking exhibitionist menace, creampie, more gf representation, showering together, softdom!joel, sugardaddy!joel, heavy on the flirting, age gap (reader is late 20s, joel late 40s), cursing, very ridiculous spending on very ridiculous things, workplace relationship and therefore odd power dynamic yadda yadda yadda

word count: 6.3k

series masterlist | main masterlist | playlist

Joel’s fingers squeeze your hips, his pace quickens even more. “Louder.” “They’re gonna – ah – they’re gonna hear.” “Who?” Joel asks. He knows damn well who. You’re only separated by a thin paneled wall. You’d be fucking surprised if the flight attendants haven’t been hearing you for the last twenty minutes. “Baby,” Joel’s voice coos as he bends forward, sweaty chest flat against your back. His lips line with your ear, his breath hot on your skin. “They get paid not to hear.”

You’ve never been on a work trip with Joel. Usually, he likes to take them alone. Martha told you once about a time a couple years before you started when Joel took an intern to a conference in Canada, and the kid spent the entire first night in the hotel bar, missed the conference the next day, and only just made the flight home, scruff of his neck between Joel’s knuckles.

He racked up a bill of nearly a thousand dollars just on liqueur and finger food. Joel had sworn he’d never take anybody anywhere with him again.

But there’s this client over in Europe he’s due to meet – an annual thing where they sit on the terrace of some luxurious hotel, drink expensive wine that tastes like piss, according to Joel, and have a cock-off over their money and status.

Sounds like fun, right?

You’ve a pretty good idea why he asked you. And he made a pretty convincing pitch: he’d promised you a relaxing weekend. You didn’t have to sit in on any meetings, he’d let you amble around the city by day, take you for a fancy dinner or two at night. All expenses paid. You barely had to lift a finger.

As per the deal, Martha organized the travel documents. Printed them, collated them, handed them to you in a neat little folder with a paperclip on top and a Post-It note with Have fun! written in red ink. You’d slipped it into your bag and followed Joel to his car, nodding to Rand as you ducked under the starlit ceiling.

Joel’s left hand sits around your thigh – because where else would it be? – his right clutching his phone, thumb scrolling as he absentmindedly reads some document. You’re watching the city soar by from behind tinted glass. Before long, it’s the dark green of trees flickering by, and then, canvased by the clear blue sky, an air traffic control tower in the distance.

The Rolls saunters past the main entrance to the airport. You watch it roll by, leaning forward in your seat.

“Wait, what…?”

“What, baby?” Joel asks, looking up from his phone.

You usually knew every fine detail of the plan by heart. It was your job to. But with Martha being in charge of arranging your flight, you’d missed one crucial speck of information this time. And that is –

You’re travelling by private fucking jet.

The car drives across smooth tarmac toward a pointed white plane, bold against the brilliant blue sky behind it. There are four people standing at the bottom of the steps leading into it; what you assume are the two pilots, and two smartly dressed flight attendants.

“How did I never know you had a…?”

Joel smirks. “Never showed you it. C’mon.”

He gets out, strolls around to your door and opens it for you. You’re still gawking at the jet.

“Jeez…” you whisper, hopping out of the car.

“What is it?” he says through a chuckle, leading you across the tarmac.

“I feel so…Everyone looks so…I’m in my fucking sweatpants, Joel.”

He looks at you under low brows, like he can’t believe what he’s hearing. Like he doesn’t want to hear one more word of it. He holds an arm out; his pinkie bumps into your tummy.

“I think you look beautiful, darlin’.”

It might’ve stopped you in your tracks. Might’ve crumbled the entire airport to dust. Might’ve made the sun drop out of the sky. You’re not sure. You wouldn’t notice if you dropped dead right now.

His words, his soft voice when he says them, send a pang of white noise through your ears, echoing around and bouncing off the walls of your head.

You swallow. Digest what he just said. And do your best to forget all about it.

Joel takes your hand and leads you to the plane steps, helping you up. He follows at your heels. “Thanks, Jerry, Lisa,” he says. You give both pilots a nervous smile as you pass.

The airconditioned cabin chills your arms when you reach the top, twisting around to look back to Joel.

“Go on.” Joel nods, palm ushering you inside.

You step forward and turn right, standing in the doorway to a pristine, white-walled, wooden interior cabin, leather seats dotted against the walls, dark brown glassy tables between them, soft gray carpet at your feet, vacuum cleaner lines still visible. There’s a long plush couch on the left wall, today’s newspaper on the side table next to it.

You feel Joel’s body shell around yours, his chin dips against your ear.

“Like it?”

“Not really. Feelin’ pretty guilty about all the air pollution.”

“How many trees you want me to plant to make up for it?”

You tut. “What are you doin’ in business? You’re so funny.”

You wander off without looking back, heading for one of the window seats.

“Uh,” Joel clears his throat, “there’s a separate cabin up back, too, if you want it.”

“Separate cabin?”

He nods. “’s got a bed. It’s cozy.”

A bed. Of course this asshole has a fucking bed in his private jet.

The pilots file in behind him, dipping into the cockpit. The flight attendants follow, and begin preparing for takeoff. Joel strolls over to the seat opposite yours, giving your legs a nudge under the varnished table when he sits down.

You both click your seatbelts into place, relax, and look out the window as the jet rolls by the airport, heading for the runway. The engine fires up properly, a deep hum you feel rattling up your spine, and then you’re pulled forward, body pushing heavily into the soft leather of your seat.

The plane races down the runway, the grass and trees blurring into a mix of dark and light green, before you’re lifting off the tarmac and into the air, your tummy flipping a little from excitement and maybe some nerves, and…Joel’s gaze on you.

When your eyes meet his, he scans down. Your little black t-shirt, skin tight. The way your breasts rise and fall with your breathing. Down to the waist of your sweatpants, then further down your legs. You know exactly what’s going through his mind.

And, honestly…being on a private jet on your way to a free weekend in Paris, accompanied by the best sex you’ve ever had…? Goes against a couple of your core beliefs about the world, but you’d be lying if you said it wasn’t on your mind, too.

The flight attendants let you guys know you can unbuckle your belts now, and, like a hive mind, you both unclip them and stand.

“Was gonna go check out that, uh–”

“I’ll show you to it,” Joel cuts in, taking your bag and leading you down the aircraft. He dips his head as he walks, the cabin too small for him to stand straight. You follow like a fucking dog, trying to hide the spring in your step.

Through a door concealed to look like part of the wall is a small room with a double bed, soft white sheets untouched. There’s a little TV on the wall opposite, a small table with another comfy chair by one of the windows, and a rail for hanging up clothes. The shades over the windows are pulled almost all the way down, sunlight splintering through and lining the soft carpet.

Joel wasn’t wrong. It is cozy.

He sets your bag down on the floor and closes the door behind you. You notice he locks it.

The corners of your lips tug, your eyebrows raise. “Might be classier than my bedroom.”

He scoffs, and you turn, falling back onto the bed and kicking your shoes off.

“Alright,” you announce, flat-out on the sheets, “I’m gonna get some shut-eye.”

Joel looks surprised. Almost – offended. “Sh…You’re gonna sleep?”

“’s why you got a bed, ain’t it?”

He narrows his eyes, runs his tongue along the bottom of his teeth. Steps forward. Sticks a knee between yours. “Not exactly.”

You smile up at him. He’s pulling the jacket from his shoulders, plain white tee underneath. He looks so fucking good. The man always looks so fucking good. He tosses the jacket to the floor and bends down over you. Hands pressing deep into the bed either side of your head, torso hovering over yours. Hips just too far away for you to lift yours up to meet them.

You take hold of his wrists. “Then…show me what it’s for.”

Joel looks from your lips to your chest, then back up to your eyes, grinning like a devil. He lifts one hand and his fingers come down to play with the drawstring of your sweatpants, tugging painfully slow on them. You want to whine, but that’d be letting him win too easily.

He loosens the waist and his fingers find the hem of your tee tucked beneath.

“You gonna show me those pretty tits, baby?”

You nod, biting your lip as he peels your top from your body, your back arching, arms splaying out on the bed. Joel uncovers your chest and slips the top over your head, discarding it to the side and leaning back to take the view in.

You didn’t wear a bra today. Wanted to travel in as much comfort as possible.

One of your wiser choices.

“Fuck, darlin’…” he breathes, eyes set on your perky tits, your round, hardened nipples. His reaction sends a fleet of electricity down to your core.

“C’mere,” you whisper, taking his shirt in your fists and dragging him down against your naked torso. And then his hips are there, right against yours, and you grind up into him, feeling his bulging crotch between your legs.

Your fingers dance along the hem of his shirt and he lifts off of you, letting you tug it over his head before his chest is pressed back against yours. You part your lips and he fills your mouth with his tongue, hands in your hair, body grinding against your own. He’s pushing you further up the mattress until you’re both in the center, disturbing the sheets and shifting the cushions decorating the bed.

Joel’s hand trails down your naked stomach and under your pants, cutting past the lace of your underwear to cup your mound, middle finger daring ever lower. You moan and drag your hips forward to edge his fingers further, until they’re dipping between your folds and your body’s rolling with pleasure.

“Yeah,” Joel murmurs, “that’s it, huh? That’s what you want?”

“Uhuh,” you nod, bottom lip between your teeth, eyelashes batting in a plea for him to keep going. Keep fucking going.

His mouth dips between your jaw and your shoulder, teeth picking up your hot skin to suck a bruise while two fingers push inside of you, lifting your back from the mattress and into Joel’s rock-solid body. Some noise escapes his lips, something caught between a laugh and a groan.

“So tight, baby,” he murmurs, drawing a smile across your face.

And then your hands are messing around at his waistband, fingers fumbling with the button. Wanting him in your hands as much as he has you around his own. Needing to feel what you’re doing to him, since he’s well aware of what he’s done to you.

Joel’s hand slips gently out from under your pants and his weight lifts off of you. In the slivers of light streaming through the cabin windows, his silhouette steps back off the bed and shoves the denim down his thighs. His jeans hit the floor and as quick as he left you, he’s back pressing into you again, hard outline of his length nudging against the top of your thigh.

You slip a hand under the elastic of his underwear and take hold of his cock, while he picks up where he left off between your legs. Your lips connect, breathing laughs and pants and desperate moans into each other, hands working to push each other closer and closer…

Joel’s fingers pump in and out, curling just enough to hit your G-spot every time. His thumb’s bumping at your clit, pushing waves of pleasure with each circle. He adds a third finger when you start to gasp, the movement of your fist around his shaft becoming messy and staggered. You’re trying to focus on him, trying to get him there as fast as he’s getting you, but he’s so fucking good at it, and you’re starting to fade out of the cabin.

Your eyes roll shut; head falls back against the bed. You’re still trying to fucking jack him off, as if he’d even let himself cum in your hands before he’s been inside you. But you’re desperately trying not to give him the satisfaction of having you unfold on his hand less than ten minutes into this. Desperately trying not to give in to him and his stupid private jet.

“It’s okay, baby,” Joel whispers in your ear, pressing a delicate kiss to your hair, “you can cum. Do it for me.”

“F-uck you,” you whisper, and you cave.

Let’s put it down to the air pressure when you’re this high up. In fact, let’s just say: you’re on a plane, and you’ve never had anything remotely close to sex on a plane before, and that’s why, when your orgasm bursts through, you cum harder than you think you’ve ever done before. It’s because of how fucking insane this is.

Let’s just say.

You come to with your face buried in the crook of Joel’s neck. His chest is vibrating, Adam’s apple bobbing. You pull back and notice the dimples in his swollen cheeks, the crow’s feet by his eyes, and then…the wide smile spread across his lips.

“That feel good, darlin’?” he asks through a laugh.

You curse at him again, eyes screwing shut. His hand’s still between your legs, slowly moving in and out, lulling you through the tail end of your orgasm. Your hands have deserted their original job; they’re clutching Joel’s shoulders. You don’t even remember grabbing onto him.

“Got somethin’ that’ll make you feel even better,” he breathes, and before you’re fully awake, his hands are on your hips, flipping you over. He drags your pants down your legs, discarding them to the floor beside his.

You sigh when he pulls your ass up into the air, resting your ear on your folded arms. Accepting defeat, or maybe just…letting him do what he does best.

Joel slips your panties to the side and runs his cock up and down your dripping cunt. You flinch, still sensitive, and feel him slow down.

“Gonna make you feel real good, alright?”

“Mhm,” you reply, eyes closing again as he lines up.

It sounds like a bit of a dumb thing to say. Joel makes you feel good every time his hands are on you, without question. Even that first night, in that dive bar, before he’d ever really done anything. His hands sent electricity through your body that you failed all weekend to rid yourself of. But you hear what he’s really saying.

You haven’t had each other yet without someone on the other side of the wall, waiting for one of you. It’s always been a rush, always been about that race to the finish line just to satisfy your needs, and then return to Earth as soon as you’re done.

There’s no need to rush to that finish line this time around. Nobody’s waiting. Joel can do whatever he wants, can fuck you however he likes, and have you under his hand for as long as he wants. As long as you both last.

The bed makes sense now, doesn’t it?

He pushes inside you, thick, hard, full. You gasp, face burying into the comforter, legs spreading to accommodate his size. Your fingers grasp onto the sheets, nails digging into the soft fabric as he fills you up, pulls halfway out, and rocks back in.

“Fuck, Joel,” you cry, and his hips slam into yours.

“Huh?” he asks.

“Daddy,” you correct yourself, still gasping.

“Better.”

Joel pounds into you, strong grip on your waist, pulling you up and down his cock at a punishing pace. His grunts match your whines. Your hand stretches out to grab something – anything – to hold onto, to steady yourself as your body begins to collapse.

“Daddy,” you mewl again, muffled by the cotton of the sheets, like it’s the only word coming to mind. “So – fuckin’ – good.”

“Louder, baby,” he replies, groaning when you tighten around him.

You whimper. “F-fuck, daddy.”

Joel’s fingers squeeze your hips, his pace quickens even more. “Louder.”

“They’re gonna – ah – they’re gonna hear.”

“Who?” Joel asks.

He knows damn well who. You’re only separated by a thin paneled wall. You’d be fucking surprised if the flight attendants haven’t been hearing you for the last twenty minutes.

“Baby,” Joel’s voice coos as he bends forward, sweaty chest flat against your back. His lips line with your ear, his breath hot on your skin. “They get paid not to hear.”

His hips crack into yours again once, and then halt. You cry out, the sudden feeling of him in his entirety, filling you up, pushing right up against your cervix, too much to bear. Too much to be muffled by the mattress beneath you.

“Let – them,” Joel’s hips drag back, slow, leaving you empty, “hear – you.”

He thrusts forward again, painfully, and you moan. Loud. “Ah, daddy,” you cry out again, and you swear Joel’s chest rumbles behind you with a laugh.

“That’s it, good girl. Tell ‘em how good it feels.”

You feel your mind start to slip, the cabin going with it. Your eyes roll closed, your mouth falls open. The only sound escaping your lips a whine, over and over, shaped just like the word daddy, daddy, daddy.

Joel’s forehead rests on the crown of yours, his voice a soft hum at the nape of your neck.

“See? Sound way too pretty to keep quiet, darlin’.”

He’s panting, words spilling out of his mouth between gasps and grunts. Hips are snapping at a grueling pace. You reach for his wrists again, planted in the bed either side of your head, and squeeze as if it might relieve the building tension in the pit of your stomach.

But he’s going so fast, so hard, fucking you dumb. And you can feel him start to falter, when your walls hold him snug, tightening around him as you reach your high.

He cums when you do. You feel him empty inside you as you hurtle through your own orgasm, rippling bliss all around your body. You both cry out, filling the tiny room with groans of pleasure and release together.

Your hips give, fall flat to the mattress, Joel still inside, slowly rocking back and forth, pushing his cum deeper and deeper inside you.

His elbows sink into the bed at your shoulders, caging you under his body as the remnants of your highs wash away. He’s running soft, wet kisses from your neck down the top of your spine. When your body stills, the pulsing of your cunt a mere flutter, he slips out from between your legs and pushes up off of your body.

Joel collapses alongside you atop the tangle of sheets and pillows, skin sticking, bodies thrumming with energy. You roll over to lie next to him. Chests rising and falling in unison, fingers intertwining at your sides. You’re staring at the ceiling, head tilting to rest on Joel’s shoulder, and he places a soft kiss to your hair.

You glance up to look into his brown eyes, lit by the thin rays of bursting sunlight seeping through the windows. The way the light moves across him as the plane turns, brilliant rays sweeping over the horizon and reflecting every angle of his face.

When he notices you, he dips his chin, and you prop yourself up, pressing your lips to his. Joel holds your jaw softly, thumb grazing over your cheekbone. His other hand scoops around your back, holding your body close to his.

“Sleepy,” you mutter, and he nods.

“Get some rest,” he tells you, but you’re already laying your head down on his chest.

Your heavy eyes blink the jet out of view; Joel’s hand stroking your hair sends you off to sleep.

----------

You wake under the white sheets, still wrapped up in Joel’s arms, to the sound of voices on the TV. Some comedy movie. Sounds like Adam Sandler. Joel mutes it when he notices you stirring.

“Afternoon,” he mutters, voice husky.

“Hi,” you reply softly, and his hand runs through your hair. “How long was I out?”

“Only a little while. They’re probably getting ready for lunch. You want me to head out first?”

You nod, suddenly feeling ashamed…and hungry. “Yeah. ‘n can you…make sure they don’t ask?”

“They ain’t gonna ask,” he groans, laughing as you roll off his body and let him up.

You watch as he dresses himself, toned arms pulling his tee over broad shoulders; tan legs slipping back into neat jeans. He slings his jacket over his arm and bends back down over you to let you kiss him again – slow, deep. Something of a thanks, a you’re welcome, maybe. A marker, anyway. A prelude to this weekend.

And then he slips out front. You lock the door behind him and start collecting your clothes, hopping around the cabin as you pull them on.

Before you leave, you grab a hoodie from your bag, feeling a little more exposed than you did when you first boarded. You toss it over your shoulders and open the door.

“Couple more hours,” Joel tells you as you sit opposite him, propping your ankles on his lap. His hands run over your socks, brows furrowing when he notices the pattern. “Bart Simpson?”

“Comfiest socks I own. Good plane socks.”

“Alright.”

“Go on. Make fun of ‘em.”

“I didn’t say anything. You want somethin’ to eat?”

You smirk. “Sure.”

He pours you a glass of water from the metal jug on the table between you both, and one of the attendants appears as if by magic on your right.

“Got you gluten free stuff,” Joel says as you gulp at the ice water.

You almost choke. “Seriously?”

His face twists, confused. Mirroring your astonishment. “Yeah. You think I’d let you starve?”

You almost laugh before you hear it, and realize how sweet it is. You didn’t even know Joel noticed this stuff. Didn’t think it’d be on his radar.

“Thank you,” you whisper, lifting your glass to mask the blush burning across your cheeks.

Joel nods once. Then turns to the attendant and asks for a burger, side of fries, side of onion rings. “We got sweet potato fries, Len?” he asks.

“Think so,” Len replies. “Want them instead? Or both?”

Joel thinks it over for probably two seconds, before he shrugs and says, “Both. Thanks, man.”

Len turns to you, but you’re still staring at Joel. “Unbelievable,” you mutter.

Joel holds his hands out. “I’m hungry.”

You give Len a smile. “What’s…What can I have?”

“We got gluten free flour, bread, pasta, uh…garlic bread for sides, too. And a couple desserts.”

“What the f…?” You stare at Joel. “You didn’t have to–”

“Just order, baby,” Joel says, palm facing you, stopping you from going on.

“I’ll, uh…You do fried chicken?”

“Yes, ma’am.”

“I’ll have fried chicken, side of fries, and coleslaw, if you have it, please.”

Len nods curtly and heads back up front, leaving you and Joel on your own again. You finish your thought.

“What the fuck?”

He’s chuckling. “What?”

“You…This is…Nothing, you just…you blow my mind, every time.”

Joel shrugs, grinning. “Blow your back out, ‘n all.”

“Alright.” You snatch your ankles from his grasp – Bart’s toothy smirk slipping from between Joel’s fingers – and sit up straight, looking out of the window to the dazzling sky; bright blue on top and fluffy white clouds beneath.

Your food arrives shortly after and the pair of you eat in comfortable silence. Joel checks through his emails, you sit back in your seat with your headphones in. It’s nice, not having a phone to answer or Joel’s schedule to fix. Nicer, still, having him feet away from you, giving you all the attention you could possibly want at the drop of a hat.

You land in Paris at 10PM local time. Straight off the plane and into another sleek, black car, driven by a gray-haired, sharp-suited man named Denis whose hand Joel shakes before climbing in beside you. He slides into the leather seat and you fall against one another, your head on his shoulder. Partition wound up, though neither of you feel much like doing anything that’d require privacy. Your eyes are tired, heavy, you smell like eight hours’ worth of plane, and you’re basically salivating at the thought of collapsing into a huge, soft, clean bed.

Which is exactly what the pair of you do when you reach the hotel. You’re in some extravagant suite picked by Joel; you manage two glances around the dark place before he’s leading you by hand off to the bedroom, cases still parked at the front door.

And before you know it, you’re sinking into the plush sheets of a king-size bed, limbs entangled with Joel’s, city lights twinkling through the window into your sleep-glazed eyes as you drift off.

----------

Day breaks across Paris around seven in the morning. You wake with the blue glow of the sky, dusty pink on the horizon bleeding upward as the sun rises higher. When your eyes open and adjust to the light, you glance over Joel’s still sleeping body and notice the view behind him, split in half by the silhouette of the Eiffel Tower.

The curtains are still pulled back – neither of you noticed nor had the energy to shut them when you arrived. You’re both still in your clothes from yesterday, too. Joel managed to kick off his shoes, and you remember him pulling yours off before he fell into the bed next to you. You didn’t even sleep under the bedsheets.

You push yourself up off the bed, stretching your back and glancing around. This room is fucking nuts. Gold accented – gold handles, gold light switches, gold frames. Pretentious modern art decorating each wall, an upholstered headboard that almost touches the ceiling in front of you. Marble-topped nightstands with spotless silver lamps, glinting in the light.

You roll off of the bed, Bart Simpson socks landing on soft carpet, though his face has been awkwardly twisted around your ankle in your sleep. You shuffle off to a door on the left, leading down a small hallway – past some fancy ornate vase – to the living room: a wide, open space with the same floor-to-ceiling windows as the bedroom, looking out to the same view.

Two velvet couches sit opposite one another, a white marble coffee table sat between. Behind them, a dining table with eight chairs. Gleaming varnished wood. And then, through a couple more doors, a kitchenette with modern white cabinets, a coffee machine, a microwave.

Fucking. Nuts.

You hear Joel stirring in the bedroom and wander back through, dazed with sleep and amazement at this place. He’s rubbing his eyes when you walk in and spring down on top of him on the bed.

“Mornin’,” he grumbles, voice thick and husky. His hands fall onto your thighs, sat either side of his waist, and his eyes flutter open. “You’re energetic.”

“Have you fucking seen this place?”

“I have. Stay here every year.”

You press further into him, feeling a swell in his jeans and doing your best to ignore it.

“Can we go explore?”

“Outside?”

You nod eagerly, despite the way his face screws up.

“Baby,” he sighs, “I’m still in my damn jeans.”

“So, go shower. Get dressed.”

He’s not done protesting. “We travelled for, like, nine hours straight yesterday.”

“’n now we’re here and we ain’t here long, so let’s go do something. C’mon.”

You lace your fingers through Joel’s and pull him up toward you, sitting in his lap on the bed. He buries his face in your chest, mumbling something incoherent into the cotton of your shirt.

You giggle. “Huh? Can’t hear you.”

Joel pulls back with a sigh and rolls his eyes dramatically. “Alright,” he says, “go get ready.”

You leap off of him with a quiet squeal of glee.

As you pace around the suite, dragging your case into the bedroom, fishing some clean clothes and your toothbrush out, practically skipping into the marble-tiled shower room, Joel lays back in bed watching your every move. Smiling, eyebrows lifting with encouragement anytime you look over to him. Head resting back in the crook of his arm, sleepy eyes taking in all of your excitement.

You’re rinsing shampoo out of your hair when he slides into the shower behind you, a quick kiss to your shoulder.

“No sex,” you tell him with a pointed finger, squeezing the lemon scented gel into the palm of your hand.

“No, ma’am,” he says with a smirk, dipping his head to let you lather up the suds in his salt and pepper hair. “So, where we goin’?”

You shrug. “Wherever. Lots to do in Paris.”

“Wanna get you somethin’ nice,” he says, eyes screwed shut as he runs his head under the flow of water, “a thanks for comin’ with me.”

“I think maybe the private jet, the hotel room, plus the free trip in itself is thanks enough, Joel.”

But Joel disagrees. Heartily, apparently.

He takes your hand and helps you out of the car on a tree-lined street, tall cream buildings on either side. It looks like a movie set. You’re following Joel’s lead, spending more time craning your neck to look up at the huge, ornate windows guarded by black balconettes while he guides you across cobblestone toward the smoothly paved sidewalk.

You’re not even paying attention to where he’s taking you until you’re stood in the middle of a glistening store, plush rug under your feet, lavish chairs in the center of the room, a rainbow of fashion surrounding you.

“What…? No, Joel.”

“Hm?” he asks, eyes scanning the room. He takes a step, and you tug on his arm.

“I can’t fucking afford Gucci,” you whisper, pulling his body back against yours.

He hands you a bemused smile, eyebrows low, corners of his lips pulled. “All expenses paid, baby.”

Your arm falls limp and he drags you through the store, past mannequins in patterned gowns and silk shirts, past shelves of obnoxiously huge purses and accessories gleaming in the spotlights from above.

Your fingers stay locked around Joel’s hand, your head swiveling so much you worry it might fall off, looking from the vibrant floral wallpaper down to the spotless tiled floor, glancing politely at attendants and then dipping your head and wandering by them behind Joel.

“See anything?” he asks, turning to you at the opposite end of the store.

It’s ridiculous. This entire trip…is ridiculous, and you’ve only been here twelve hours. Following around at Joel’s heels like a puppy, watching as he clicks his fingers – no, before he even gets the chance to click his fingers – and everything and anything either of you could dream up just…happens. Right in front of you.

He won’t let up. You know him. If you tried to pull him back outside onto the street, he’d buy you something for the hell of it.

You know him. So, you decide to use that to your advantage.

“Gucci…I dunno…” you muse, squinting at him.

“Not your thing?” he asks, and he seems curious, but – you know him. You know that behind that polite mask is a smirk thick enough to make your knees wobble. He knows what you’re doing. “Where to, angel?”

You lead him out of the store. Feel his shadow behind you, watching as you thank the doorman and take a left around the corner, passing under the shade of the gently rustling trees. Arm in arm, you arrive before a huge archway, pristine windows surrounding the door to…

“Dolce & Gabbana…” Joel looks up at the stone writing atop the arch. “Alright. Classy girl.”

You giggle, pulling him past the wrought-iron fence and inside.

It’s sleeker, moodier. Less in your face. Suits you a bit better, though you can’t quite swallow back the guilt that sticks in your throat as you saunter around, Joel right behind you. It catches you when an assistant touches your arm, snapping you out of your daze, and asks if you need anything.

“No, thank you,” you reply, mirroring her smile. “Thank you.”

She nods and floats off.

Joel’s frame shells around yours, dipping his jaw to lean against your shoulder. “What about that one?” His eyes flit up to a mannequin just past a lit table of purses.

“The black one?”

“Mhm.”

“You like that?”

He repeats, a little more exaggerated: “Mhm.”

You shrug. “I do look good in black.”

“Look better in nothin’.” Joel steps forward and takes the tag between two delicate fingers, deliberately hiding it from you. He turns back, lifts his eyebrows in question. “Buy you it if you promise to wear it tonight.”

You smile. This man knows how to barter. And you take no convincing at all.

“Alright,” you accept, “deal.”

----------

Three hours later, you’re strolling down another cobbled street with an ice cream in your hand. And not much else, by the way. Joel’s taken all the shopping bags back to the hotel. He slapped your hand away when you tried to lift one of them from his clutches.

The wind sifts gently through your hair, cooling your face and neck, toying with the hem of the oversized shirt you’re wearing. It flutters the French flags overhead, red, white and blue blowing in the breeze. Cars roll by, engines humming as they weave in and out between one another, horns calling out in the distance.

Joel hadn’t let you come up to the counter to pay with him, had insisted you stay right where you were standing, and when he finished up and laced his fingers through yours, it was like a surge of energy had shot through him.

He led you out of the store and into another, and another, and another…until his hands were wrapped around, what, six bags? All carrying different components of your outfit for tonight.

And then he’d noticed the time – unlocked his phone with a curse under his breath, and kissed your temple. Midday. He was meeting Jean-Marc in an hour.

“You wanna come back with me? Chill at the hotel?” he’d asked, dialing his chauffeur’s number.

“I’m good,” you said, smiling sweetly as he squeezed your shoulder. Then, he pulled his wallet from his back pocket and handed you his card.

“’case you see anything else you want.”

“Joel,” you protested, but he’d shut you up by clicking his teeth and walking off, leaving you to follow after him, shamelessly beaming.

He’d apologized another three times before Denis had pulled up, then once more as he loaded the trunk with your bags.

“See you later. Enjoy your meeting,” you teased, laughing at the way his face twisted into a grimace as the car rolled off.

It’d been a pretty nice afternoon. You’d dipped into a couple more stores – though, without Joel to impress, the low-cut dresses and short miniskirts were somewhat less exciting.

That is, until you passed by a lingerie store. You stood outside for a second, peering by your reflection in the window to study what lay behind. Suddenly lace and satin – and the idea of Joel seeing you in them – seemed a lot more enticing.

You’d pieced together an entire getup: bra, panties, garter belt, even a pair of stockings, and a silk robe to go over the top. You handed over Joel’s card, ignoring the way your cheeks began to heat and focusing instead on how smug you felt, and skipped out of the store, bag in hand.

You’d called Denis five minutes ago to ask for a ride back to the hotel. He called you Madame, he said Nonono every time you apologized for bothering him again, and he promised he’d be there in less than ten minutes.

You pace back and forth along the curb, waiting for the shiny black Maybach to pull up. You’ve checked your phone, like, five times already, kinda hoping there’ll be a text from Joel. You swing the bag between your fingers.

A door swings open behind you, giggles filter out into the street, and you turn to see a couple bounding out of a jewelers, hand in hand. She flicks her left wrist up, tilts it in the sun. It’s hard to ignore the light bouncing off of her ring finger. You feel nauseous at the sight.

Suddenly the Parisian street dissolves, and what sweeps over in replacement is a long, empty lawn, maple trees swaying menacingly in the distance. There’s a blur of bright blue sky, sunrays bursting across your vision. Your hand comes up to shield your eyes, and there he is. There he was.

He was on the grass. You told him to stand up; his suit trousers would be stained green. He did it anyway. Trembling hands, expectant stare. You stuttered and stammered your way through a sentence fueled by shock and horror and…resentment.

And then you did it anyway, too.

The crackle of tires coming to a stop on the road in front drags your fraught gaze from the couple, now strutting off down the avenue. You reach for the door handle, but Denis is already out of the car and leaning down, hand on your back as you duck into the backseat.

----------

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