#i hate hate hate some of the stuff that shows up in my kink tags mannn

[acid--inside]

i go into a somno tag looking for other cutesy consensual somno likers. instead i find many. many. people to block.

but also blocking these people isnt enough i need to dunk them in acid and kill them

[atticrissfinch]

Always on the Tip of My Tongue | (joel miller x reader) (18+)

Part 6 of Meet Me in the Back

pairing: sleazy gas station clerk!joel miller x fem!reader summary: when you see joel flirting with another girl, you start to lose your head. warnings/tags: [18+ MINORS DNI] age gap (no specifics), size!kink, daddy!kink, phone sex, smoking, alcohol consumption, light ~sexual touching~ with an OMC (some of which could be considered dubcon but is ultimately consented to), some angst besties :), jealousy, pettiness, Feelings, all that fun stuff!!!  word count: ~7.6K | ao3 a/n: life has been kicking my fucking ass, and so has this chapter. for like 5 months. but I’m so glad to finally have it out.  title is from Hate to Be Lame by Lizzy McAlpine. listen if you want to cry over these two. enjoy friends :)

Series Masterlist | Masterlist | Kofi

Blonde. Skinny. Around 5’3”. Flouncy little dress that’s too skimpy for the 40-degree weather outside. A six-pack on the counter and a pointed chin nestled in her palm propped by her elbow.

The last time you’d seen this charade, it had been you.

You flex your hand on the door handle, peering through the glass. Joel’s forearms are resting on his thighs, a smile tugging at his lips as he shakes his head at her.

Something claws at your stomach, propelling you forward. The door chimes. Joel doesn’t look.

“I’m sorry, darlin’. No ID, no booze. Just how it goes.”

Darlin’.

You slip between aisles, keeping a watchful eye on the counter – on Joel’s expression – as you pretend to scan the chips.

“I promise I’m twenty-one! Don’t I look twenty-one?” You can hear the pout bending her lips, the shrill lilt to her voice, the vocal fry that grates across her words. She bends steeper over the counter, the hem of her dress kissing the bottom curve of her ass.

Joel’s thumb swipes at his lower lip as you see his eyes light up in what seems to be a subconscious response to what is surely a devastating view in front of him. “Don’t matter what you look like, sweetheart. No ID, no booze.”

“And I can’t convince you otherwise?” The enticing drag to her voice sets off a flurry of something in your stomach again.

It’s not jealousy. It’s not. It has to be something else.

Your hand closes around a bag of chips absentmindedly as Joel dips further forward onto his forearms.

“You think you got what it takes to convince me, darlin’?” Joel smirks, his tongue darting out to wet his lips. “Cause I—”

The bag slips from your hand and plops to the floor with a squeaky, crumpling sound against the linoleum, and Joel’s head jerks up.

When his eyes meet yours they go wide, a fly nearly caught in a web. He straightens up, stiffens like a board, and makes a show of clearing his throat as he glances back at the girl at the counter. “I’m sorry, miss. I’m gonna have to ask you to leave and come back with ID. I can’t help you. That’s final.”

You see his fingers fidgeting against his jeans as he sets his jaw and avoids your gaze.

“Fucking seriously? Fuck you, old man,” the girl bites back, shoving the Coors Light across the counter so hard Joel has to shoot his arms out to catch it before it smashes to the floor. She’s out the door seconds later, leaving you standing in the aisle and Joel staring down at the case clutched to his pudgy stomach.

For a long moment the only sound is the buzzing of the lights on the ceiling. Then your footfalls clatter against the linoleum as you make your way to the counter. You slap your retrieved bag of chips in front of Joel and begin rifling for your wallet.

“Darlin’…” Joel starts, falling flat in the air between you. The absence of the telltale beep from Joel’s barcode scanner has you looking up.

Darlin’.

“Just the chips,” you state, brandishing your debit card between your fingers.

You spot something in his eyes. Hesitance. Anxiousness. You don’t dwell on it.

“Please,” you punctuate, signaling your disinterest in whatever the fuck is happening between the two of you right now.

“Darlin’, I didn’t know you—”

“Joel?” You interrupt firmly, and he almost flinches. “It’s fine. Just the chips, please.”

He eyes you warily as he takes up the bag, scanning it, and watching you slide your card into the reader. You stare down at the tiny screen taking an abnormally, cruelly, long time to process.

The lights buzz.

“Pretty young thing,” you mutter before you can stuff the words back into your mouth.

“Don’t be mad, sweetheart.”

“I’m not mad.”

“Promise, it wasn’t nothin’.”

“Wasn’t my business if it was.”

“You seem a little mad.”

You exhale heavily out your nose, fixated on the tiny spinning wheel on the screen that you’re begging to finally chime and tell you to remove your card.

“I’m peckish.”

“Hell does that mean? You wanna peck at me?” Joel asks, his stool creaking under him as he leans back.

You look up at him from through your lashes for a moment. “Means I’m hungry.”

“Oh.”

You arch your eyebrows once in acknowledgment, and the blessed machine finally beeps at you. You snatch your card back and shove it in your wallet.

“Thanks,” you throw at him as you gather your spoils and head toward the door.

“Sugar—”

“Later,” you call casually in dismissal over your shoulder and let the door snick shut behind you.

You slam your car door shut and collapse against the back of your seat, chips tossed to the passenger side.

It doesn’t matter. He can flirt with whoever he wants. He can proposition whoever he wants. The two of you are nothing. This is nothing.

You wrap your arms around the steering wheel and bang your forehead against it with a thud, groaning.

The hell is this shit? Whatever you’re feeling. This churning sensation that’s tightening your insides. Because it cannot be what logic is telling you it is. Because that would be fucking stupid. You are fuck buddies. Nothing more than that.

You fumble around inside the median compartment for a carton of cigarettes and a lighter, roll down the window to a burst of frigid air, and light up. The first puff only minimally tamps your nerves, so you keep inhaling. You pull out your phone, idly scrolling, cascading smoke out the open window from the side of your mouth as you tap ash onto the asphalt.

The sound of scraping footsteps on the pavement next to your car has your attention swiveling to the left, where Joel is traipsing closer and closer.

That feeling starts up again.

With no pretense, he plucks the smoldering cigarette dangling from your fingers and leans his arm against the frame of your car, taking a lengthy drag.

“I wasn’t finished,” you say, a hint of annoyance infiltrating your words.

“I’ll let you finish,” he mumbles around the filter, only removing it to billow smoke from his lips. “Always let you finish, don’t I?”

“Whatever,” you mutter, reaching out to retrieve your stolen cigarette and attempt to resume your stress relief. Unfortunately, the “stress” in question is tapping his fingers against the hood of your car.

The silence stretches on as the white fizzles down to dull copper and Joel’s eyes monitor the front of the store. The taptaptap-ing of Joel’s fingertips grinds at your nerves.

“Didn’t mean to upset you, sugarplum.”

“You didn’t upset me.”

“Seem upset.”

“I already fucking told you, dickwad. I’m not fucking upset,” you snap, chucking your spent smoke on the ground at Joel’s feet. “You can fuck who you want. No skin off my nose.”

Joel heaves a heavy sigh and snuffs the ashen cherry out under his shoe. “Just didn’t mean to…rub shit in your face like that. ‘S’all.”

“There’s nothing to…rub,” you insist, dropping your head back against the seat. “You’re fucking other girls. I’m fucking other guys. This is a non-issue.”

“Yeah?”

“Yeah.”

Joel presses his back flat against the car, folding his arms across his chest with a wide stance. “Ok. Good.”

You stare out the windshield, the salty streaks of ice melt marring the surface of the parking lot.

“I’m… I’m bein’ safe. Just so you know. With anyone else.”

It takes a second for the meaning of his words to sink in, but when they do, you do a mental double-take. “Wait, like… protection? Like condoms?”

His head nods steadily, eyes staring off in the distance.

“You hate condoms.”

Joel nods again, turning his head to the side to peer at the back of the lot. And your ears are playing tricks, the wind is blowing too loud, the cars on the surrounding streets too noisy. Because you swear to god you hear him say something that sounds eerily similar to, “But I like you.”

But you’re sure he didn’t, because when he turns back he just says, “Just tryna be more careful. Don’t need any little critters crawlin’ around the family jewels, ya know?”

“Yeah, no, that’s smart. I, uh, I am too. Having them wear protection. Just so we’re clear.”

Joel nods resolutely once more. “Okay then.” He springs himself off the car and starts slowly walking backward toward the entrance. “You wanna…pop back in for a bit?”

You’re not sure you’ve ever turned him down before. He’s always got that naughty glint in his eye, that charming smile, that bulge in his pants. But this time…you do. Maybe to prove a point. Maybe more to yourself than to him. “Another time.”

Joel nods deeply and twists about-face on the heel of his boot, his hands tucked in his pockets.

The chill of the night finally gets to you, and you roll up your window.

-

It starts to fester. The absolute last thing you want it to do. A constant frustration clouds the back of your mind, slowly creeping forward.

It takes significantly more effort to focus on work, to go out with friends, to run errands. You see the inside of more than a couple men’s bedrooms, hoping the right fuck will clear the fog.

There is one guy. A friend of a friend of Mandy’s who tagged along to a bar one weekend and finessed his way inside you by the night’s end. Nate. He’s a douchebag, but he’s hot and his dick isn’t entirely forgettable.

It’s not his. It could never compare to his. But it’s something. So you’ve allowed Nate to become something of a repeat offender. An expendable piece of arm candy for when you’re with your friends. He fucks rough and dirty, he calls you a good girl.

He fills gaps. The gaps that have been left by him molding your body to his cock. The gaps that persist from you decidedly avoiding falling into bed with that disgustingly foul, devastatingly well-endowed man again for the umpteenth time.

Seeing him flirting with someone else that night set off an alarm in your head. Something that now persistently buzzes under your skin. You feel it sting when you think about him directly. Like your body is punishing you.

It’s been about a month since you’ve seen him. The cold winter has given way to a slightly warmer spring. He’s texted you sporadically since that night.

February 19

Joel: really didnt mean 2 upset u sugerplum

Joel: really srry

February 26

Joel: is it one of them wierd jumpy years???

Joel: LEAP YEAR

Joel: how do they exspect us to know wen those r???

Joel: checked the calender in the office. is feb 28 the leap day?

Joel: miss u

March 14

Joel: whether is real nice 2day. bet ur wearin one of ur skanky sundresses huh?

Joel: woudnt say no 2 a sneek peek 😉

Joel: no presshure tho

March 17

Joel: cant stop dreamin bout that tite fuckin slit

Joel: wanna b inside it again soon

Joel: ill make it sooooooo good 4 u

Those last ones come in quick succession late on a Friday night while you’re hanging at Mandy’s place with a smattering of friends, your leg draped over Nate’s as his hand slides up your inner thigh — as high as he’s willing to go in the present company. He’s not quite as bold as…some people. But you like that he doesn’t keep his hands to himself.

Nate’s preoccupied even as he strokes your sensitive skin, locked in a spirited debate with another guy about some inane bullshit.

Despite the typos, Joel’s words have your core pulsing. Flashes of his massive cock splitting open your pussy flutter across the backs of your eyelids as you attempt to soothe yourself and the stupid, horny bitch between your legs. Your eyes snap open in response to the unwelcome images and you take a steadying breath, adjusting your seat and covertly palming your clit as you tug down on the hem of your denim shorts. That gets Nate’s attention, and he squeezes your thigh, giving you an appraising look.

He leans into your ear and whispers, “You think Mandy would disown you if we fucked in her bed?”

“Yeah, she would,” you mutter back. “Let’s get out of here?”

“Don’t have to tell me twice,” he chuckles, giving your leg a final squeeze before stretching his arms above his head with a fabricated yawn. “Getting a bit tired. We’re gonna dip,” he tosses to the group, knocking his knuckle against your knee to indicate the we.

“Ok, I’ll see you later, babe,” Mandy throws to you from the couch opposite, giving you air kisses. You reciprocate the gesture and let Nate lead you out, his hand solid at the small of your back.

As soon as you arrive at the car, your back is pressed against the chill of the passenger side door and Nate’s mouth is on you. His hand wedges between your legs, rubbing up against your pussy through your shorts. You whimper quietly, but cup his jaw, pushing his mouth back from yours.

“Not here, dumbass. You’re gonna jizz in your pants again.”

“I only did that once,” he grumbles, huffing as he shoves off from the car and rounds to the driver’s side. You’re on the road soon after, his hand tickling at your inner thigh again over the center divider.

It’s not the hand you want. It’s the hand you should want. The one you want to want right now. You hate that it’s not. All because you bent over for that stupid fucking cashier one time, and now you’re here. A perfectly handsome man’s hand is making its way up toward your aching clit, hindered only by distressed denim, and you don’t give a shit about it. Because it’s not the hand you want. It’s not the cock you want. Not the filthy mouth you want.

Didn’t mean to make you upset, Sugarplum.

Fuck him. For so many things. The life-altering, reality-shattering dick. The soft, torturous glances when he thinks you’re not looking. The sly, knowing glint in his eyes when he thinks he catches something in yours. The stupid turns of phrase.

The shameless flirt in him, aimed not only toward you, but toward any pretty girl he sees.

Fuck. Him.

Ok, so maybe you’re a tiny bit upset. You’re dealing with it. And you’ll continue to deal with it. In whatever way you see fit.

“Can we make a pit stop? I’m dying for a soda,” you say, rolling your head against the leather of the seat to face him.

“You wanna stop for a soda?” He replies, a whine apparent in his voice. “I’m trying to get you naked as fuck as soon as possible. Don’t cockblock me.”

You roll your eyes. “But the more hydrated I am, the more hydrated she is,” you inform, tapping two fingers against your crotch. “Don’t you want her juicy?”

He rolls his eyes. “Fine. Quick stop.”

“Perfect. Take a right up here.”

–

You spy a sliver of his truck around the side of the building, so you know he’s here. You hop out of Nate’s car, and you have a few seconds to peer inside before Nate’s hand is at your back again.

Joel is right where you’ve always left him.

You can see the jiggle of his knee peeking over the countertop from his boot bouncing on the crossbar of his stool. His phone is discarded by the cash register, but he’s got a clipboard and pen in his hands this time. You see the flick of his wrist as he checks something off on it.

For a fleeting moment, you second-guess yourself.

But then Nate is at your back, hauling the door open for the two of you.

Joel perks up as the bell chimes, but you’re too attuned to the features of his face to overlook the slight drop in expression when he sees you. Sees Nate with you.

Maybe you shouldn’t be doing this. But he did it to you, right? Let him see how it feels.

“Evenin’, folks,” Joel gives a courteous nod, eyes snagging on you and taking hold.

“‘Sup,” Nate replies in passing, guiding the two of you back toward the soda fountain.

You want to turn and look back at him as he clears your view. You want to see the expression on his face now that you’re not observing him. Because you can feel him observing you. Like his eyes are piercing through the cotton of your shirt, through your skin, right to your heart that feels like it’s beating far too fast for a casual drink stop.

But you don’t. You grab your cup and start filling it with ice. You dispense your soda. And when it’s almost full, you feel the slide of Nate’s hand down your ass. He gives you a light squeeze, and it makes your face start to heat. Normally you wouldn’t give a shit. You’re not opposed to PDA. But he is watching. You know he is.

You’re securing a lid onto your cup when Nate’s hand slips lower, down the center of your ass, until you feel his fingers start to stroke over your pussy again from the back.

Before you can say anything you hear a sharp interjection from behind you.

“Hey.”

You both turn back as Nate snatches his hand from between your legs. Joel’s attention is trained on the two of you, a look of bored annoyance on his face.

Not exactly what you had expected.

Joel leans forward onto the counter and reprimands in a jaded tone, “This ain’t Friskies Night at The Calico Kitten. Keep your hands to yourself.”

“Huh?” Nate responds, a bit dumbfounded, turning fully around to face him. You follow suit hesitantly biting your lip as the guilt of this entire situation starts to set in. You wanted him to feel guilty. To feel sorry for making you feel bad. You’re not so sure you want that anymore.

“You heard me. ‘S a public fuckin’ place. And private fuckin’ property. Keep your hands off her.”

Nate takes a step forward. “You’re really telling me how I’m allowed to touch my girl?”

“Nate…” you warn softly, putting a hand on his arm.

“Why the hell are you even looking at my girl to see how I’m touching her, huh?” Nate continues, slipping his hand around your waist possessively.

Joel’s eyes flit over yours, and you’re not even sure how to react. You feel foolishly caught in the middle of a situation that you crafted. You don’t offer anything but a subtle shake of your head to Joel.

I’m not his girl. I’ve never been his girl. Please don’t make me say it.

“Part of my job’s to make sure beautiful women like her are safe,” Joel asserts, pointing a finger at you. “You feel safe, darlin’?”

Darlin’.

You swallow slightly and nod, your voice caught in your throat for some odd reason.

“You want him touchin’ you like that?”

“She’s totally fucking chill with it, dude,” Nate butts in, but Joel throws up a hand in a stopping motion.

“Don’t remember askin’ you a goddamn thing, son.”

You clear your throat and, with shaky conviction, announce, “Yes. I’m fine with him touching me like that.”

“Hear that, old man? Told you she’s chill with it,” Nate brags, giving you a swat on the ass that makes you jump. You restore your resolve quickly, sizing Joel up with your eyes and your renewed confidence. He doesn’t reveal anything to you that he hasn’t already let slip, and it almost disappoints you. His own gaze seems to be scrutinizing you in return, like he’s daring you to make a move.

“Come on,” Nate mumbles, grabbing your drink from the counter behind you and starting toward the cash register.

You see Joel shrug and chuck his pen onto the counter like a dart, skidding across the surface. As the two of you approach, he unmistakably says, “Far too pretty for a little boy like that, sweetheart.”

“Please,” Nate scoffs, plopping your drink in front of Joel absentmindedly as he tilts his head toward you with a smirk. “Says the dinosaur over here, running his mouth and playing the white knight like he’s got a shot in hell of scoring a sexy piece of ass like you.”

Joel snorts at that, eyes fixed on the barcode he’s scanning on the side of your cup. “Son, you are stumblin’ into a dick-measurin’ contest that you are embarrassingly unequipped for.” Joel glances directly at you with a smug look cemented on his face. “Ain’t he?”

Nate takes in your vague expression, then narrows his eyes slightly at Joel. “Why are you asking her like she’d know?”

Joel gives a little upside-down grin and a shrug, focusing his attention on his monitor. “I’ve found that girls have a pretty good sense for that kinda thing. Don’t they sugar…” he starts, meeting your eyes from beneath his eyelashes, “tits,” he concludes smoothly.

You see the glow in his eyes. The knowledge of what he wants to call you, but knows better than to divulge in front of an outsider.

Your heart throbs in your chest.

Even now, when you’re very blatantly trying to make him feel insecure, that unique Joel self-assurity shines through. Not only that, but the respect for you and the privacy of your little trysts stands unwavering between the pair of you. He could blow up your spot. He could tell Nate how unabashedly you scream on his cock, how your eyes roll back in your head every time he sinks inside you. How he’s trained you to call him “daddy” and trained your cunt to slide down onto his generous length with humiliating ease and reasonable grace.

But he doesn’t.

And that alone would win him any dick-swinging contest, if his staggeringly large cock hasn’t already.

“Fuck it, it’s on the house,” Joel says, waving his hand at the soda and jabbing his finger onto the touch screen on his monitor. He plucks a straw out for you from the cup stocked with them by the register.

“Wait, what? Why?” Nate challenges, skeptical.

Nate secures his hand around your waist again, but Joel doesn’t flinch. Doesn’t give it any attention at all. Just scoots your drink closer to you and says with a wink, “Don’t say I never did nothin’ nice for ya.”

You wrap your hand around the base of the cup, and when your fingers don’t meet each other around the circumference of it, your mind is flooded with images. When you glance up at Joel, it’s apparent that he’s already plagued with the same vulgar recollections.

Joel clicks his tongue against his top row of teeth and winks at you again in sendoff. He doesn’t say it, but the message is clear.

We both know what’s going on here, sugarplum.

–

Nate doesn’t get any. He doesn’t even make it out of the car at your place before you shut it down. And he is comically distressed about it. He calls you a bitch and a tease before peeling out of your apartment complex with screeching tires.

It sits heavy in your stomach how mortifying it would be for Joel to have seen that kind of behavior. But honestly, Joel probably pegged that attitude in him within seconds. He’s smart that way. Intuitive. God, it enrages you.

You saw the shift in him when he realized you were parading around with a sorry excuse for a man. Suddenly the threat he’d initially perceived was neutralized and it became more of a game to him than anything else. He was toying with Nate. While you stood there, battling with yourself over what you were doing.

Your phone vibrates when you step inside your apartment.

Joel: dont gotta b doin shit like that to get my attenchin sweetcheeks. u alreddy got it.

Something about the cocksureness in his demeanor earlier and the matter-of-factness in his text has frustration flaring up inside your chest.

You: Sure didn’t have it the other night. Some random blonde bimbo walks into the store and your cock is practically out.

You fling your phone onto the couch and head to the kitchen, pulling out a hard seltzer and cracking it open to down a generous gulp. Your nails clack against the counter as you see your phone screen alight over the back of the couch.

You don't particularly want to see what he has to say to your text. You had just wanted to say it. Maybe you shouldn’t have said anything. But you wanted to. You needed to. That’s the downside of texting shit like that, you suppose. The other party is probably going to respond.

Bitch, this is what diaries are for. Get a fucking diary.

Too late now.

You drag your feet over to the couch and drop heavily onto it, staring at the text notifications from Joel on your lock screen. Five of them. You take another healthy swig of your drink and take the plunge, unlocking your phone and swiping to your text thread with Joel. But you are not prepared for the deluge he smacks you with.

Joel: u excpect me to b a monk when ur not gracin me with ur presents princess?

Joel: shure askin an awfull lot of a guy who dicks u down like hes paid 4 it

Joel: ya its been a while but i kno 4 a fact taht lil creamie gusher btwn ur legs remembrs how ur daddys cock feels squirtin his lode deep inside it

Joel: u bein petty aint as cute as u tihnk it is little girl. ur fuckin with a grown man. not some pussy boy like that chode u was flawntin around me with

Joel: if ur planin on keepin this up u better at leest try a little harder

Fuck.

You’ve never heard him talk like this. Like he's pissed off. He’d seemed so calm and collected at the store. Like he couldn’t give two shits about who you were hanging around or who was touching you. Your eyes start to burn with tears as you read the texts over.

You responded to his sexts by dragging your fuck buddy into his place of work. What was he supposed to do? How was he supposed to react to that? Of course he’s pissed off at you. Why didn’t you take two seconds to think through your shit before reacting?

Bitch. Get. A fucking. Diary.

The fist around your gut clenches when more text bubbles pop up.

Joel: fuck. im sorry sugerplum. idk y i just threw all that at u. that wasnt polite.

Joel: just a dumb ol basterd shovin my whole goddamn foot in my mouth

Apparently you both need diaries.

Your heart hurts reading his texts. You’re enraged at yourself for driving him to this, running him through the whole gamut of emotions that a person experiences when they see someone they have feelings for giving attention to someone else.

Someone you have feelings for.

Fuck.

Fuck fuck fuck.

The fist around your gut is now joined by its twin around your heart.

You have feelings for Joel.

Deep down, you’ve known this for a while. It’s been brewing, whirring around your brain. You’ve shut it down every time it’s cropped up, wrapped your hands around its throat and squeezed until you’d sufficiently silenced it for the time being. Beat it into submission, starved it of oxygen, stuffed it into a box and set it ablaze.

Then you’d see him again and it would burst out of its charred prison, bigger, bolder, better than before. An exhausting cycle that you were only vaguely aware was occurring.

But that’s it. You have feelings for Joel.

So, you respond to him in the best way you know how, the way that you think would make him smile to himself the most.

You: Doesn’t even come close to what I can shove in my mouth

You bite the side of your thumb, a grin pulling at your lips as a weight seems to lift from your chest, as the fists begin to loosen. Your stomach flutters when the next message flies in.

Joel: cheeky girl

Joel: wheres ur boyfriend

Your smile broadens and you take another sip of your drink.

You: Got lost in the cavern you’ve made of my pussy. Might never see him again.

Joel: atta girl

You slap a hand over the cheek-bursting grin expanding across your face and toss your phone into your lap. But after a moment, when it dawns on you that you have no one to hide it from — not even yourself — you let your hand fall from your face and into your lap, your head leaning back against the couch as you beam up at the ceiling.

Another buzz.

Joel: hows about u make it up 2 me by showin daddy his cavern 😏

You giggle to yourself, hand already working on the button of your shorts.

You: Been a minute since the last excavation, might have caved in a little

Joel: daddy can fix that in a jiff. hes always got his tools with him

Joel: gonna jackhammer that little bitch rite open again while u scream on it. mine ur cave with my shaft til daddy finds gold

You whimper as you shove your shorts and panties off your legs, your mind rifling through all the sensory memories you have of Joel’s cock plowing through you in that relentless rhythm he’s perfected with you.

You spread yourself wide for your camera, your heels mounted on the couch cushion to maximize exposure, and even you are taken off guard from the wetness seeping from your opening just from his trademark filth. It’s like your pussy is hardwired to drench itself the second he speaks in that particular brand of dirty talk only he can pull off.

Your hands are shaking with eagerness and arousal as you send off a photo, your fingers descending onto your clit hastily as you await his response.

You feel so keyed up you accidentally drop your phone when it starts to buzz aggressively in your hand, Joel’s name and photo popping up on your screen with an unexpected call.

You recover and accept the call, fumbling to hit the speaker button to hear his voice.

“Shit, never locked that goddamn door so fuckin’ fast. Jesus Christ, baby. All spread and smilin’ at me like that.”

“Just from thinking about you, daddy,” you sigh, lying fully onto the couch and hooking your leg over the back of it to make room for your brazen depravity.

“Fuckin’ hell, darlin’ girl,” Joel groans, and he already sounds wrecked over the phone as you hear the muffled scrapes and scuffles of him releasing his length from his jeans. “Gash is dripping like a leaky faucet. Who’s it for, baby? Tell daddy who’s it for.”

“You,” you whine desperately, bucking into your hand at the grit and authority in his tone.

You hear a light tutting over the line. “You know better’n that. Tell me.”

You give a breathy whimper as you abandon all dignity for him once again. “It’s for Daddy Joel.”

A reedy groan travels through the speaker, followed by the easily identifiable sound of him spitting shamelessly into his palm. “Fuck yeah it is. That’s a good little slut.”

You can feel wetness dripping between your asscheeks as you rub at your clit to the reedy groans Joel gifts you with as the sound of slapping skin exposes his hand jerking his cock.

“Are you stroking yourself for me, daddy?”

“Hell fuckin’ yeah I am, baby. Right on our dirty little couch in the back. Can’t wait to bust you open on this bad boy again.”

You give a breathy laugh and say, “Is ‘bad boy’ referring to the couch or your cock?”

Joel lets out a low chuckle in return. “How’s about both? Wanna sit on this couch while you sit on me. Feel you bounce on it like the naughty fuckin’ bitch you are.”

You moan in response, your brain supplying you with memories of how it feels to drop down on his thick length until he bottoms out inside you. A wave of pleasure pulses through your body at the flashbacks, and you’re hit with how much you miss this man and his dick. How you crave the way he infiltrates your mind and your body in the most sinfully grotesque ways. You wish you had more visuals on your phone of what it looks like when he gapes open your cunt on his cock. That’s the first thing you want to do, you think, when you get your hands on him again. Make him film your defiling, showcase the stretch of your hole around his thickness as he retrains your body to take him after so long without him.

Your toy collection cannot do him justice. Maybe you bought a dildo that rivals his size, but it could never replicate the warmth of him inside you. The absolute control he has over you in those intimate moments when he lays claim to you. You can suction a silicone cock to a mirror and fuck your demons away as often as you’d like, but you can’t cup your own jaw with a heated, rough-hewn hand. You can’t fill your own ears with vile odes to the ways your bodies meld together, enrobed in that gritty southern drawl. Your imagination is only so colorful, and even if you had a thousand years, you could never amass the range of shades you would require to successfully capture his essence.

No, you could never paint him, even in your mind. You’re content to instead be a canvas for him. And as nit-picky as you are over your own appearance, whenever he gets done with you, a part of you feels like you could put an O’Keefe to shame. And he would undoubtedly agree.

But for the moment, you offer what little you can as your thoughts scramble by your own hand. “Yes, daddy. Wanna feel you fucking everywhere.”

“You stuffin’ that cunt full for me, sugarplum?”

You whine and tease two fingers down to your opening. “Not yet. Nothing compares to you.”

“Little boyfriend don’t stretch you out, huh?” Joel taunts, laughter in his voice as he baits you.

“He wasn’t my boyfriend. And no,” you admit, not terribly concerned with how easily you crumble over this man. You could argue back, stoke the jealousy, make Joel wonder exactly how he measures up next to Nate. But you’re done playing that card. Really the whole hand is blown at this point. He sees through you so effortlessly, you may as well have never had a poker face at all.

“Mmm, yeah, daddy knows how good he gives it. I told ya before. They all come crawling back to daddy Joel. You crawlin’, baby? You on them hands and knees for me?”

Your tail firmly between your legs like the bitch you were tonight, you whimper and say, “Yes, daddy. I’m crawling.”

“Lemme see.”

A whine escapes you, but you open your camera and maneuver yourself onto your hands and knees on the cushions, balancing your phone against the armrest to capture your compliance. The timer ticks down quickly and your wanton gaze stares back at you in a still image, your tits falling with gravity between your arms, your nipples peaked, your lips glistening from biting them subconsciously through your lascivious acts on this sofa tonight.

The picture whooshes off to Joel, and a gravely moan announces its reception. “Fuck me, little devil. Need you to drop those girls in daddy’s mouth so I can suck ‘em ‘til they’re raw.”

“Should punish them for getting us into this mess in the first place, shouldn’t we?” You purr, situating yourself on your back again to continue why you started.

“Damn well should,” Joel agrees, a grunt sliding into his words as he pulls at himself. “‘F’it weren’t for those knockers, you’d be down a twelver, some smokes, and a shit ton of good daddy pipe.”

“Especially the pipe,” you sigh, your fingers working ravenously at your clit. “God I love that big fucking cock, daddy. I’m gonna come thinking about it.”

“And I’m gonna blow my load all over my fist thinkin’ about your tight little gold mine. Shit,” Joel grunts out, the smacking sounds on the other end getting louder and faster.

“Oh, fuck, daddy,” you cry out as you feel that telltale warmth start to trickle through your limbs and the pulse of your pussy under your fingers.

“Yeah, fuck, come for daddy,” Joel growls out, followed by a series of curses and deep moans through the speaker as you assume he’s experiencing similar results.

As your adrenaline fades, you sink into the couch, and the weight of all your actions today start to sink with you.

“Shit, babygirl,” Joel exhales heavily as his own high dwindles. “Missed those sexy noises of yours.”

“Me too,” you admit, swallowing as you catch your breath. “Missed yours too.”

You hear a light laugh over the phone. Then silence starts to settle between the two of you. Time drips and each second feels like a drop into the pool sitting in your stomach, rippling and sloshing as you fight against being the one to spear through the quiet.

“Broken record here, but I’m sorry if I upset you flirtin’ with that girl, sweetheart. I didn’t know you were there. If I’d’ve known, I’d never…”

Something in your stomach goes tight again, and a burning starts behind your eyes. You hate that he keeps bringing this up. It had felt embarrassing enough in the moment. Mortifying enough to shut him out, to try and sort out the bullshit in your head about him. You’d made the mistake of trying to shove it back in his face, and it only made you feel worse. Every ounce of you just wants to move the fuck on from that night, from this evening, from this weird fucking limbo the two of you are stuck inside.

The words might have a little more bite to them than you mean for them to, but before you can pull them back you say, “Stop saying you made me upset. You have no idea how I feel.”

There’s a beat of silence before he responds, and it feels like your heart is palpitating to the passing seconds. When he speaks, his voice is bordering on defeated. “Startin’ to think you might be right about that. G’night, beautiful girl.”

A lump forms in your throat almost instantly.

“Joel,” you try to reassure, to prevent tonight’s exchange from ending on a sour note, but you watch the call end on your screen as you say it. That tightness in your stomach squeezes, the wetness brimming your eyes reluctantly spilling over.

You roll onto your side, drawing your legs up closer to your chest as you let your emotions overcome you for the first time in a long while. You beg the universe for him to call back so you can tell him what you discovered about yourself tonight. You can’t bring yourself to do it. You need him to do it.

He probably thinks I hate him.

I could never hate him.

You give yourself over to the sorrow and allow yourself to feel.

—

The skin around your eyes feels crusty and tight with dried tears when you blink awake. The apartment is still mostly dark, and you’re still half-naked on your couch.

As your memory from tonight pieces back together in the fog from your sleep, you pat around for your phone. 5:02 AM. No missed calls or texts.

You sigh, tossing the phone onto your coffee table and curling in on yourself again. The sleep has you thinking clearer.

You need to tell him. You can’t keep it inside when it feels like it’s boring through your chest. Especially when he’s sitting in that dingy store, likely thinking you can’t stand him. The hurt in his voice when he hung up a few hours ago is haunting. You never want to hear him sound like that again.

You wrangle your shorts back on, spruce up quickly in the mirror, and grab your keys.

You’re at the gas station in minutes, pulling up to the front. You allow yourself a single deep breath, not enough to second guess, and head to the front door.

The bell chimes tinnily, but the store is quiet. And Joel isn’t sitting on his stool. You don’t let it sway you.

You pass the first aisle. Nothing.

You pass the second aisle. Nothing.

Then you approach the third aisle, and you swear your heart skips. Joel is at work on the floor, kneeling on a foam pad and restocking the shelves.

“Be right with ya,” Joel says dismissively, reaching into the box behind him.

“What if I was upset,” you blurt out before he even has time to look at you.

Joel freezes for a moment as the sound of your voice flows from his ears to his brain. He twists back around as his gaze gravitates to yours, eyes widening in surprise as he pulls his hands from the box. His eyes roam over your body, toes to tits, then finally to your face. “Well, hello there, pretty girl.”

“Hi,” you rush through the word, fold your arms across your chest just for somewhere to put them. “What if I was upset.”

Joel studies you for a long moment, his eyes squinting slightly in scrutiny. He falls back onto his ass, wincing gently as the pressure is taken off his knees, and drapes his arms over the clearly aching joints.

“What if you were upset, you’re asking?” He repeats, his tone prodding for further explanation.

“Yes,” you reply simply.

His eyes float to the side, drudging up what exactly you mean by that, before nodding to himself once he thinks he understands. “Upset at me tryin’ to slip it in another girl?”

A flash of disgust splashed across your face before you can school it, but you nod. “Yes.”

“Well,” Joel starts, his eyes shifting to the ground between his legs before meeting yours again, “What if I didn’t like you flittin’ around here with some dipshit punk? What if that really fuckin’ pissed me off, actually?”

“It pissed you off?”

Joel raises one eyebrow and sets his jaw firmly in response.

A creeping satisfaction radiates in your bones at this revelation. It had worked. He played it off, but it worked. So your behavior hadn’t been all for nothing. The crudeness of which you’d allowed Nate to touch you in the dim light of the store, the sting of the slap to your ass, the tingle you’d felt when Nate brushed his undeserving fingers over your pussy under Joel’s surveyance — it all burrowed under Joel’s skin.

“I wanted it to.”

“I know,” Joel says lowly, almost like he’s ashamed he’d fallen for it.

The heels of his boots squeak on the linoleum as he fixes his attention on the half-stocked shelves.

Moments drag by, and it becomes apparent that Joel is leaving the ball in your court on where this conversation leads.

You sigh, kicking your foot nervously and barely grazing the floor. “What if I don’t want to see you fucking around with another girl like that again?”

Joel’s eyes are drawn back to you again. You can see the faintest hint of a smile tugging at his lips before he says, “What if I don’t give a fuck about any other girl, even if they tried?”

A spark of light ignites in your chest as you battle with the smile pushing at your own lips.

None of this is even a solid answer. Not even a solid question. The open-ended what-ifs rallying back and forth, all at once saying nothing and everything you want to verbalize. But it feels right. It feels good.

Joel leans forward, a broad hand cupping around your calf, and your heart swoops. “Sugarplum,” he whispers, eyes locked on yours as his mouth brushes above your knee. Your eyes drift closed, luxuriating in the plush press of his lips on your skin, the gravity of the act somehow infinitely more magnanimous than it would have been at any time before now.

You’re both startled out of your skin as the bell chimes again and a breeze wending its way through the open door, a man in a suit heading straight back toward the coffee dispenser.

“Shit,” Joel mutters under his breath, pressing another kiss to your thigh before shoving himself off the floor and dusting off his jeans. You take a steadying breath and stem the heat in your cheeks with your palms.

Joel’s hands find your hips, stroking just under your shirt with his thumbs as a soft smile plays on his face. “Let’s talk later.”

You nod at him, pulling your lower lip between your teeth, suddenly feeling very bashful. “My place after I get off work? I’ll text you the address.”

“Sounds like a plan,” Joel affirms, his greedy eyes crinkle with his smile, and you’re not positive whether he’s undressing you or admiring you with them, but you ultimately figure it’s both. Always both. Joel’s lips find your forehead and it’s a losing battle to train your face into anything but exhilaration.

“Guess it does,” you reply softly, unable to stop yourself from raising your fingers, touching his lips that very well might be yours now, just as much as your own are.

Joel hums against the pads of your fingertips, pressing a delicate kiss to them and whispering, “My little sugarplum.”

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[bonny-kookoo]

Jungkook

X♡X♡ [SEVEN DAYS] Day 3

If you gave him your heart, your soul, your body- what would he do to those things? Maybe it's time to see if he can handle your love for once, and not just the other way around.

Tags/Warnings: Porn with a lot of plot basically, inexperienced!reader, Dom!Jungkook, BDSM themes and elements, mild Angst, fluff, slow burn but we'regetting somewhere, they have mad chemistry but mc has trust issues, mentions of past domestic abuse (mental), Outercourse (basically non-penetrative sex except with a dildo), toys, Cumplay, it's messy smh, hand kink? Increased authority from kook

Length: ~5k words

𝐓𝐡𝐞𝐫𝐞 𝐢𝐬 𝐧𝐨 𝐭𝐚𝐠𝐥𝐢𝐬𝐭 𝐟𝐨𝐫 𝐭𝐡𝐢𝐬 𝐟𝐢𝐜.♡

A/N: you'll never be able to imagine how much I struggled reconnecting with this fic. This was torture. I hated this fic so much at some point. I'm not proud of this part but if I don't get this out I'll never be able to continue this series.

-> Masterlist

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Jungkook has really nice hands.

Not just in a sensual or sexual sense, but in general. They're big but not intimidating, because the way he uses them is never in a mean or hurtful way. They're soft, and kind, and they also look very nice. Masculine, and strong, veins underneath the skin sometimes a bit more visible than other times, but they also hold a certain softness to them. His nails are well taken care of, only his thumb sometimes giving you a hint of a nervous habit.

They're uniquely Jungkook. Rough, but not to be feared. Gentle, but with the potential to lead. Capable. Handsome.

They're his main way of exploring your skin too- his fingers often used to make shivers run up your spine, palms warm as they feel every curve of you. He doesn't need to look at what he's doing ever it seems like, hands having minds of their own every time they touch you.

Like a separate entity almost, listening obediently to their master's command.

You slowly wake up from your nap, feeling actually refreshed, when Jungkook walks in from the door, giving you a hint to what must've woken you up. "Oh- You're up." He smiles, walking closer with a plastic bag, though his first mission is to press his hands into the softness of the couch before he kisses your cheek. "Here- let me show you something." He impishly chuckles, sitting down on his shins, before he opens the bag on the bed.

You're in a state of shock for a good moment, not even having noticed him move.

He's got the audacity to laugh over your shoulder, front pressed into your back, hands teasing your sides as they sneak up your loose shirt.

"Bought one that's about my size." He purrs sensually, almost like he's mocking you. But it's not malicious- playful, if anything, but not mean in any way. "So you can call it.. practice." He explains, while you stare at the nearly clear pink dildo that's staring at you, still packaged together with other things in the black plastic bag in your lap.

"Jungkook.. when did you even buy those things?" You wonder, feeling almost scared to touch any of the things inside.

"Earlier, when you were napping." He shrugs easily, hand reaching past your body to shamelessly dump the contents of the bag on the bed, bag flying somewhere on the floor. "Anything look like an absolute no-go to you?" He asks curiously, and you look without touching.

There's an egg-shaped item there you're not too sure of what it might be. The dildo explains itself, clearly- and the other massage wand is also pretty self-explanatory. There's two bottles of lube- one pink, the other blue. A.. plug, with a pretty pink gemstone on one end of it. Leather handcuffs, with soft looking fur on the inside. Overall, nothing immediately makes you uncomfortable.

You don't know what gives you the confidence for your next comment you blurt out though. "Don't you have any toys?" You ask him bluntly. "Like, for yourself? Or do you just.. use your partner's body for stuff?" You wonder, and he looks at you with a sharp gaze, a smirk growing on his lips.

"I wouldn't mind using your body, that's for sure." He flirts, leaning his head a bit to the side. "Why would I need toys if I've got you?" He fakes innocence as he asks that question without expecting any answer- And for a moment, you don't give one.

But something about his flirty comment bothers you.

Maybe because you hear someone else in your head again- all the men who've degraded you over the course of time. Your ex. Your friends. Your father. You hear them laugh yet again like you're pathetic and worth nothing.

"I don't want to be used." You deny with a flat tone, and it's clear from the slight change in his eyes that he's now on high alert at your every word spoken by mouth and body language, so he can figure out what happened to change your mood like that. "I don't just want to be.. a toy you get bored off and toss away at some point just to pick it back up once you're interested again." You say, drawing a clear line.

You're not sure how he might react to this. You didn't want to make a statement like that, but you can't mask the truth. You really are scared of getting hurt at the end of this- you don't want him to just play around and then let you go.

You don't want to go. You want to stay- You want him to want you to stay.

He says your name to gain your attention, voice low and steady, horribly gentle- and it makes your eyes sting as you realize that this is the first time a man has ever spoken in such a tone to you. He notices the way your eyes begin to gloss over- and it hurts him too, the fact that you're hurting.

"This isn't just something fun to me. I think I might not have made it clear." He says, staying away from you as to not invade your little bubble you're in, letting you have your safety. "I don't know what happened to you in the past to be so full of distrust towards anything good offered to you-" He sighs, running a hand through his hair. "-but I promise you, this isn't just a game to me."

"Then what is this." You say quietly, scared. "I'm scared that we're not on the same page here and that we're walking down to entirely separate paths." You complain pitifully with your back hunched over and head hanging low.

"That's because we are." He chuckles softly. "I'm trying to hold your hand here so we don't lose each other- but you're not holding it." Jungkook offers.

"I don't understand-" you shake your head, when as you look up again, his face is right in front of yours, eyes looking at your lips.

"Then let me help you." He hums towards you, before his lips press onto yours. And your body freezes.

Because he's never kissed you like this before- tender, calm and without any lust in it whatsoever. In fact, your realize only now that you've never been kissed without any hidden intentions or something to gain in mind. This kiss is soft, it's no words needed, it's love confessed in physical form. You've never been kissed like this. Ever.

And even more so, you're pretty sure he hasn't actually kissed you at all either- not until now, at least.

And it's all so confusing now, because you want to trust him, you want to just lean into him and let him have his way with you- but the fear inside you is still there, clutching your limbs, leaving you with no way to move anywhere- neither away from him, nor closer. You're currently stuck in place, and it's only a matter of time until he grows tired of you and your constant push and pull behavior.

You're hurting him, you know this.

Especially because you're kissing him back, giving him hope for something you might not be able to give him. You're cruel, aren't you? And the worst is that he probably knows even that.

Because once you start to cry, once you sob and cling to him like a touch-starved pet, letting all of those pent up emotions out because who cares, he doesn't say anything, doesn't ask what's wrong. He just holds you, gives you that moment, keeps your pieces collected in his palms for you to put back together later with his help. And you're not sure how many times you can do this.

Or how long he's willing to participate in this.

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Since Jungkook didn't make a move the entire morning, you've been spending it entertaining yourself as to not get bored. Not in a sexual way-

but by simply trying to see how strong his patience is.

It's a new feeling you've developed after just two days of being with him- confidence, and trust in that he won't ever hurt you whatsoever. No consequences he could come up with would ever truly put you in harms way, you absolutely believe in that. But what's disappointing was how he didn't ever get past a clench of his jaw, or a tilt of his head. He'd just.. let you do whatever, and never do anything to somehow discipline you.

It made you wonder. Is he even such an intimidating 'Dom' at all, or did he just make that up?

However, after talking about it after lunch, he's finally opened up to you too- having told you that he's gonna trust you too, that he'll be more open with you and his own desires, while you'll have to be honest about when he's going too far or too fast. And you agree- you want him to trust you too, want him to relax more around you as well.

After all, he wants to get to know you too, right? Not just the other way around.

What you did not take into account though, is that now, your actions actually will have consequences- and he will indeed put you back into your place in one way or another. And even if in that very moment where you piss him off he isn't reacting- he will remember those actions to remind you of them, later, when you don't even expect it.

Just like now, as he's finished some calls he had to make, finally finding time again for you. "I'm sorry- I technically told the studio not to contact me on my break." He hums into your hair, as you sit with him on the small sofa in his office, having practically demanded his attention back on you the moment he'd put his phone down, and he'd been visibly amused by it. Unbeknownst to you, he's more than just excited- after all, it feels like your week is finally gaining traction, as you no longer step around in the dark trying to navigate around obstacles that aren't even there.

He's just been too scared to scare you. But by now, it's clear that you're not. And it makes him eager to explore now that he can actually see where he's going with you.

There's a hand under your shirt, cropped top and cotton shorts nothing more than decoration really, considering he's already seen you naked. It's nothing too sensual technically- but at this point, you feel like something might be wrong with you. Because even a simple touch like this makes you.. needy.

He reaches over to the side, plastic bag rustling- and now you're actually starting to get antsy. Because there's only one bag next to the couch- the one that's containing all the different items Jungkook had bought this morning as he'd told you. And that's exactly what he's grabbing for it seems like, as he moves his arms a little to take out one of the items you weren't too sure about- already unpacked for some reason, as he holds it out for your hand to take.

"What is that?" You ask, fingers running over the smooth, silicone surface, while he chuckles behind you, since you're still halfway laying against his chest.

"Something I always wanted to try." He simply jokes. "It's really fun, according to a friend of mine. I've never used it with anyone before, but I think you might like it.." He hums, taking the toy away from you again, before his free hand pats your thigh once. "..scoot to the side for me, yeah?" He asks, and you do so, sitting next to him now while watching how he finally reveals what this.. object might be used for.

He has to adjust the belts multiple times to fit around his thigh, plastic clipping into place, before his eyes find yours, lips turned into a suspicious smirk. "Alright.." He starts, leaning back against the couch, and it's obvious that he's now demanding respect and most of all, your obedience. He points at a spot in front of him, and without words, you know exactly what he wants you to do, his expression one of almost.. pride, as he watches you stand in front of him, instinctually knowing what to do.

"Undress." He simply says, a straightforward command that you follow easily, because shame is something that you refuse to let yourself feel. He's not one you need to be hesitant with- he's promised you his honesty, after all, and he's promised you that even if things get awkward, it'll never change his view on you.

And his view of you is one of love, that's very clear to see and feel.

So it's not weird to stand in front of him all bare, clothes on a small pile next to your feet now, as he smiles. "Come here." He urges with a softer voice, having clearly realized that you've accepted his invitation into a scene now- for the first time not having needed any cues. "Take a seat, princess." He almost teases, and you do so, sitting on the soft silicone toy hugging his thigh.

It's pastel colored, multiple hues swirling together into one another, creating wave like patterns. "There you go... So pretty." He chuckles, hands running over the length of your arms, causing goosebumps to erupt from the sensation of his warm palms. He's feeling your skin a lot more sensually now, clear intentions as he touches your hips and waist, thumbs almost massaging the skin of your lower stomach, moving from the inside towards your hipbones before repeating the action.

His hands are so close to where you'd love to have them, and yet, you try and be patient. Because if you're good, he'll reward you, right?

It doesn't take long for you to notice the way your arousal makes movement a lot easier- your core by now slipping around with every little jerk of your hips, making you anxious to move more. And finally, as his fingers grip your hips, he gets into a more comfortable position himself- the unoccupied leg casually stretched out, while his back rests against the sofa, giving him a good position to watch you. "Show me how those hips can move." He urges, and you instantly take that invitation, slowly moving to test the waters.

You don't care what you look like, or about the wet sounds coming from the toy between your legs- because the feeling is insane.

He clearly let's you enjoy yourself for now, giving you free reign to figure out yourself how you like it. Your hips are squirming from side to side, ridges and bumps of the toy an odd but definitely pleasant sensation as you roll your core over it, uncaring of your arousal already leaking onto his grey sweatpants.

And neither does he care.

Watching you chase your own pleasure on his leg is just such a treat to witness- especially when he holds onto you, before he lifts his foot, forcing you down onto the toy without any warning, earning a surprised whimper from between your lips as he lets you down- just to repeat the motion a couple of times, simply to entertain himself. You're just too cute, even while doing such a sinful act. And especially when you clearly reach your orgasm is when he truly can't help himself-

hands guiding your hips to keep moving despite your clear sensitivity, just to see you struggle a little, thighs trembling and hands gripping his arms.

He's letting you lean against him, hips occasionally moving just a little, clearly still needy to feel more- and he's actually quite surprised when your hand curiously runs over the inside of his thigh, hesitating just shy of his very obvious erection that's only somewhat contained in his underwear and sweats. "You can touch me, you know?" He chuckles, making you look up at him. "I'm all yours." He tells you, and it feels like he's offering more than just his body to you.

But you don't get to think for long, because he's already helping you lay down on your back on the leather couch, unclipping the toy from his leg before he looms over you, hand running through your legs. "You didn't think I've forgotten, right?" He chuckles darkly, while his hand explores your still clenching core.

"You don't think I'm just letting you act like a brat and not put you into your place?" He purrs, leaning back on his heels, before he takes out something from the bag, his phone as well from the table close by. You're pulling back your legs, unaware that you're still exposed to him, lower lips plump and red from the friction of the toy, skin glistening with your arousal.

It's playing right into his desires, seeing you so clueless about your own appeal.

You're watching him press a hidden button on the toy, the pink object buzzing to life once, red light blinking while he taps away on his phone. "Oh~" He hums, trying out somethin it seems like, as the toy buzzes in different patterns before it stills again. "Interesting.. That'll be fun in the future." He chuckles, before he leans over you, kissing you with playful intent.

You're not sure what he's up to when he pushes your legs back down to stretch out, running the smooth object between your legs to cover it in your slick. "You're always so worried you can't take it.." He teases, looking right at you before you notice him push the object inside-

the egg shaped vibrator slipping right in, almost suddenly, core taking it inside greedily- only the elongated part staying outside, something resting right on your clit. "Oh?" He jokes, brows raised. "Where'd it go?" He jokes, making you laugh now, entire nature of this whole scene awfully light in that moment, lifting your overall tenseness entirely at this point. And for a moment, all is fun and games-

until he leans back, sits down in the corner of the couch, finger on his phone suddenly doing something-

The toy inside you buzzing to live, and not on an easy setting, that's for sure. He's obviously amused by the way you squirm, hips jerking whenever you move in a way that forces the part resting against you to move. And he's having the time of his life, trying out different settings and rhythms while watching you suffer under his antics.

"You still need to learn." He chuckles, watching your legs jerk whenever the piece that's resting over your clit moves just slightly. "I don't have to touch you to gain my fill." He says, simply scanning your body with a warm, hooded gaze. "Hm? You've had such a smart mouth the entire day." He coos, almost feigning innocence as he looks at you racing towards your final high-

Generously turning down the intensity so that it's not that harsh.

You're slowly catching your breath, when his lips tilt upwards, and his finger taps around- buzzing intensifying again, catching you off guard, causing a yelp to escape you as your hips lift off the couch.

This is too much. Or not enough? You can't take this, there's something strange happening with your body as it moves without your permission, turning over into all fours, front laying down as your hands frantically touch the inside of your thighs.

And Jungkook relishes in the scene you present to him, because there's a reason your fingers hesitate to touch your core, and he knows it.

You can't take it out. Not physically- that you can, if you really wanted to- but mentally. You know he's put it there, and he's the one in control. This is your punishment, and in an odd moment of realization, you accept it, thighs trembling as your body reaches yet another, warmer orgasm that causes you to cry out, voice sounding foreign to your own ears as your hips jerk, your knees pressed into the leather below the only thing holding you upright-

Or maybe it's Jungkook, who's leaning over your back, arm keeping your front elevated as it rests against your collarbone.

When did he move?

When did he shed his top?

Your core feels empty, and your legs feel wet. Is ge not wearing pants anymore? You can feel something touch you, hot and heavy against your thigh, and it must be him.

You want him. Where'd that toy go that was inside you seconds ago?

You’re still breathing heavily, cheeks still wet from the tears you didn’t even realize had fallen from your eyes. Your lashes are still coated in them, wet and heavy, when Jungkook kisses your neck from behind you, a reminder that he’s still there.

Just like he always promises. He never let’s you feel lonely.

“That's it.” He praises. “Hold onto me like that. I’ll keep your body safe while you let go.” He chuckles, and only now do you notice the iron grip you have on his forearm over your chest, nails digging into his skin. You feel a bit bad for it.

Though you just lessen your strength a bit, not letting go.

Suddenly, his other arm moves, grabs something out of sight, before he runs the object through your slick-coated cunt and thighs, covering it in your arousal before it prods at your still clenching hole.

“You think I won’t fit?” He purrs against your neck, and you swallow thickly, a strange cocktail or anticipation and worry mixing in your body. “You think I won’t claim this cunt as mine at the end of this week?” He asks again, and you can feel the wave if cool excitement wash over you- starting at your very neck, before it ends in the tips of your toes.

“I’ll teach your body to take me..” He almost chuckles, pushing the very tip of the clear pink toy inside, before he moves it back out- Pushing it in a little further each time. “I’ll make sure to get you all ready for me..” he hums sensually, by now having learned of your little kinks you have, as the hand from his arm still keeping your upper body pressed against his own finds one of your tits, groping the soft flesh before his thumb flicks the sensitive bud once to see you squirm.

“I won’t let you forget any of this.” He threatens almost, and you whine when you feel him push the toy even further now.

You feel so full. How much more is there to go?

“Jung-” you whine pitifully, eyes closed as your hips can’t stay still, all of it a stark difference to the fast paced, almost aggressive orgasm he’s given you just moments prior. “I cant-” you start, and he laughs.

“Oh you can.” He tells you, before he gives the toy another push. “And you will.” He purrs, and its then that you feel the base of the toy against your lower lips.

You swear you can feel it in your stomach- and for some odd reason, you like it.

"You're made for me." He chuckles, kisses at your neck and cheek before he bites, toy leaving your cunt with only the tip before he moves it back in, feeling of a Rollercoaster ride making your insides jump and eyes roll back. You can't think anymore, you can only feel- and right now, you feel just so used in the best kind of way.

Somehow, he makes your worst nightmares come true- but they're not nightmares anymore, just dreams, vibrant and pleasant. Exciting. New.

It could be so easy to replace the toy with himself right now- but he doesn't, because that's one of his own rules he will never break. Your trust in him is precious, it's a gift- and he won't tarnish that by simply being greedy for more than you want to offer.

"Jung.." you huff, swallowing down saliva before you can say anything at all. "Jungkook-.. please-" you beg, unsure how to phrase it.

"What is it?" He asks, moves to nuzzle your neck so softly- a stark contract to his constant push and pull with the clear pink dildo he's using to give you a taste of his own length one day doing the same. Filling you up. Probably even better? You can imagine him all warm and slicked up from your wetness, stretching you open and making you feel so full you can hardly breathe.

"More.. f- faster-" you request. "Please?" You add on, and he chuckles.

"See?" His breath fans over your neck. "You can be such a good girl." He teases, pressing the replica as deep as it can reach inside you, base pushing against your skin. "Where were your manners today?" He wonders. "Will I always have to ruin this cunt to remind you where your place is?" He asks, and you nod, shamelessly so.

"Yes!" You whimper, mind somewhere else by now entirely as you struggle to keep yourself still. "Yes- I.. I forget-" you huff out, and he laughs as he runs his lips over your shoulder, piercing a distinct contrast to his softer lips.

"Then let me remind you, darling." He hums against your jot and sweating skin. "You're mine, in this moment. And I decide what to do with you... or to you." He tells you, and you nod, legs quivering.

Only for him to move the toy back to have it slip out, hole gaping at him, closing around nothing. The sigh is everything he ever needed or wanted- cunt all red and flushed, lower lips swollen and glistening, and he has to imagine his own seed staining your skin, mixing with your own arousal staining the couch and your legs.

His cock twitches at the sight, a drop of precum escaping him without control.

But what he does have control over is the rest of himself, as he pushes the toy back inside, causing your toes to curl, especially once he moves it in a faster, steadier pace. It short-circuits your brain, everything around you smelling of sex as he uses the replica to give you a taste of what he could give you.

Your arousal foams up around the base of the pink silicone, creating a ring of white as you cream up from his pace.

The orgasm you reach from this is different, as if it happens somewhere else in your body- though his hand is quick to flick your sensitive pearl to send you off with a proper goodbye, soil leaving your body as you quiver and lose all control one last time, body giving out as he lets you lay down now, muscles twitching from the overuse.

And it only takes him one good pump on his own cock to make him spurt his release onto your back, where his lips kiss up your spine in his post-orgasmic fever.

He's drunk off of you. He's never even had full on sec with you yet- and he's already addicted.

You've got no idea what you're doing to him.

◇━━━━━━━━━━X♡X♡━━━━━━━━━━━◇

In the bathtub, his hand is a lot softer as it runs over your body, cleaning you and nurturing this blossoming feeling you're growing for him.

You're both back from your respective highs, world slowly bleeding back into reality as you simply exist in the warm water for now. "Was that alright?" He asks you, and you nod.

"It was.. new." You say, voice echoing in the bathroom, together with the sound of water sloshing everytime he moves. "I didn't think I'd enjoy what you did- but I did."

"How so?" He wonders, wanting to know hour thoughts now that your brain is functional again. Feedback is important now more than ever after all- he has to still figure out how to navigate this new experience with you.

"I thought.. it would feel, you know, degrading." You explain. "To be used." You clarify, and he nods, carefully moving your hair to see the side of your face better. "But it didn't. It felt more.. as if I was.. of service? Is that the right word?" You wonder, and he chuckles.

"Its how I feel in my position as well, you know." He answers. "Knowing that what I offer gives you pleasure.. is enough for me." He shrugs, and you stretch your legs, cramps finally letting up. "You looked so pretty.." he teases, and you whine.

"I was crying like a baby!" You argue, turning around a bit-

Though you're caught off guard by the terribly soft look he offers you, hand reaching out to hold your cheek.

"Thats because you are my baby." He says-

Making you cry once more.

◇━━━━━━━━━━X♡X♡━━━━━━━━━━━◇

[megamindsecretlair]

Mr. Black, Part 1

Pairing: Tre x Assistant!Black!Fem!/ Plus Size reader

Warnings: 18+, Minors DNI, You are in charge of your own reading experience. Intentional use of AAVE. PWP, cursing, PIV, fingering (fem receiving), dirty talk, praise kink, dumbass reader, degradation kink, power imbalance, Tre is a boss, all consensual.

Summary: Tre is sick and tired of the countless mistakes you make while performing your work duties. You were recently hired and just trying to do your best, but nothing is ever good enough for him.

Word Count: 4,099k

A/N: Listen, Idk what happened. He's barely in 2 mins of the film and it broke my brain. That outfit and that smile was too much for me to handle! Idk how many parts this will be. Please, please consider commenting and reblogging to help support writers! And please put ages in bios! Or get blockt!

Masterlist | Part 2 | Part 3 | Part 4 | Part 5 | Part 6 | Part 7 | Part 8 - Completed

Tagging the usual lovelies, please tell me if you want to be removed: @planetblaque @browngirldominion @notapradagurl7 @honeyoriginalz @blackerthings @sevikasblackgf @henneseyhoe @miyahmaraj

Shit! He was going to kill you. You whined as the numbers swam in your vision. You desperately looked between two invoices, wondering how you were going to solve this before he found out. 

Your leg bounced as your nerves unraveled the longer you stared at the documents. Shit! You were done for. Your stupid little job was over before you had even gotten started. Your bottom lip quivered. There was no way you were going to recover from this.

Tre’s heavy footsteps pounded the carpet on approach and your heart dropped into your stomach. Shit! 

You pushed the papers on your desk into one huge pile that you’ll painstakingly unravel in the safety of your home. You tapped a few keys on the computer, trying to look busy. He did not need to know that you had been staring at your egregious mistake for the past half hour. 

“Do you have that report I told you to do?” Tre asked, once he reached his office. 

“Yes, Sir,” you said. You gave him a dumb ass, goofy smile. You handed over the report in a yellow folder. He snatched it from you, not sparing you a glance, and stalked into the office. The door slam made you flinch. 

You weren’t even sure why you stuck around this job. You were recently hired to help with the background work stuff while people all around you were getting fired. Tre had been leading that charge. 

Ever since you got hired, you wondered if he hated you. He barely said anything to you except to insult your hard work. Look, the workforce was hard, okay? There’s a lot of shit that school or life doesn’t teach you. More often than not, you had to hide your scrolling on Youtube for any kind of help. 

Even when he was in a good mood, flashing those pearly whites and that sinful smile, it immediately froze whenever you entered the room. Your good mood would evaporate and then you were falling all over yourself trying to correct whatever the issue was.

His coffee was too cold, too black, too sweet. His blinds were up too high and he had a nasty glare. This report was wrong, that report was wrong. No, this wasn’t the one he wanted. Yes, this was the one he wanted. Run out and get some lunch. Well, you took too long, I don’t want it anymore. 

It was exhausting working for the man, but some part of you wanted a crumb of his praise. Just a crumb. You could survive off of it. You knew you sounded pathetic. Your friends and family were getting sick of you complaining about the man. 

Your best friend sort of got it. You snuck a picture of Tre one day and showed her. She nearly fell off of your couch when she saw him.

“This? This is your boss?” 

Yes, he is seriously your boss. And he was a fucking asshole. Who else would feel absolutely nothing about firing people a few days before Christmas? Christmas! It was your favorite holiday and just thinking about all the tiny traditions made you so giddy, your heart flipped.

Person after person, box after box, floated by your desk looking absolutely miserable. You watched their tortured faces and your heart hurt thinking that all their years of service fit into one tiny box. The tinsel and ornaments decorating the office seemed like cruel mocking reminders that there would be no Christmas cheer for them. 

“Get in here, now!” You jerked out of your seat. Fuck, fuck, fuck. The intercom flashed red and then turned off. You hated that damn box. Whatever happened to sending a chat? Way less intrusive and easier on your nerves.

You stood up with your heart racing. The pulse in your neck thumped so painfully, you placed your hand there to try and steady it. Realistically, you didn’t have to tell him about the mistake right now. You just needed a chance to find out what you did wrong.

You smoothed your checkered skirt suit, wiping your sweaty palms on the thick material. El Segundo didn’t get that cold, but the mornings were brutal. 

You bit your lip as you approached his office door. You opened it. Tre stood over his desk, one hand on his hip and a paper in his hand. It had to be the report he asked for. You assumed that since it was so late in the evening, that he’d read it first thing in the morning. You had hoped to leave here with a little hope. Not defeated like the past few nights, still not living up to his impossible standards.

All things considered, he was damn delicious. His favorite aesthetic was black. Black shirts, jackets, pants, shoes. The only hint of color on him were his gold chains and glasses. His thick beard complimented his facial structure beautifully. It was an odd mix being both attracted to and afraid of your boss. 

“Close the door,” he said. 

You followed his command. Shit. You were really in it. Was it your report he was reading? Or did he magically glean that you royally fucked up a fifteen million dollar contract? 

Your stomach roiled. You were going to be fucking sick. 

You approached the front of his desk like a deer in headlights. There was no room for you to maneuver. It was you, the headlights, and inevitable death. Shit, would you go to jail over something like this? 

You twisted your fingers as you stood there and waited for him to acknowledge you. He gave a long sigh and then put the paper down. 

“Come here,” he said. His tone was so disrespectful and biting. It was insulting coming from such a pretty man with a soft, ungodly voice. 

You rounded his giant desk and stood beside him. He was so huge. Thick muscles bunching the confines of his black suit jacket. You gulped and glanced down. He was looking at your report.

“What does this say?” He asked and pointed to a sentence.

“Due to the natre, er, nature, of the findngs.” Shit. This thing had so many damn typos in it. You typed the damn thing up, distracted, watching all of the people you never got to know walk out of here. Their faces haunted you day in and day out. You shouldn’t care, but well, here you were. 

If he had done this at any other time, maybe it wouldn’t have affected you so much. If he fired people around, say…St. Patrick’s Day, then at least people would have an excuse to hide their inevitable drinking. 

You looked into Tre’s eyes, an apology ready on your lips, but he was fuming. He was usually so calm and collected, firing people with an ice cold exterior. To see so much passion in him now…you were in deep shit. Without a paddle.

He reached across his desk and plucked out a red pen. “I want you to sit here and highlight all of the mistakes you made. And you better find them all,” he said. 

Your shaking hand reached out for the pen. He held it away. “All of them.”

He held out the pen once more and you took it. Tre sat down in his chair and motioned for you to proceed. You spied the chair on the other side of the desk, but you didn’t get the sense that you were allowed to get comfortable while you did this.

You licked your dry lips and leaned over slightly. Page by page, you hunted your mistakes with the red pen. You circled all of the typos you made. Good god, there were so many of them.

Tre sat like a silent specter. His disapproving eyes burned your back as you searched the document. At the end, you were appalled that you let so many slip through. The fuck was wrong with you? 

“Count them,” he said. 

Shit, shit. You couldn’t handle this fucking stress. “I am so sorry–”

“Count. Them.” You glanced at him. Besides the fire in his eyes, he seemed calm and a little disinterested. Like he was already bored of this shit and wanted you to hurry up.

You took a deep breath. He was only a man. You needed this stupid fucking job, but you will not be treated like this for much longer. Fuck his praise. And fuck him. No man, no job was worth this bullshit. You were going to find a nice quiet job somewhere. 

You counted the circles. Like bubbles of misery. “Twenty-four,” you said. At least your voice was strong, giving no hint to your frazzled nerves. Though, the more you thought about it, the less nervous you felt. You were so going to type up your two weeks notice tonight. Fuck this cheerless company. 

“Do you have any clue what it’s like trying to do my job but all I can focus on is your shitty ass mistakes? A toddler can type better than you,” he said. 

You gasped. Such a fucking asshole. “Everyone makes mistakes,” you pointed out. For fuck’s sake, you weren’t decoding international secrets. The occasional, okay this instance many, typos should not warrant a trip to the principal’s office. 

“I spend more time correcting your mistakes than trying to turn this company around. The least you can do is be a competent assistant. Your job is to assist,” he said. 

“All you can see is my mistakes instead of all the other shit that I do!” You fired back. Shit. His eyes narrowed and you swallowed, but you weren’t going to hold back. Whether you quit or got fired, you were saying goodbye to him so what the hell did anything matter? 

“I bend over backwards to do everything for you! Do you know how many times I’ve had to fix my nails as I run around here doing everything that pops into that meaty ass head of yours? Fix your computer, get you coffee, charge your fucking phone. I was hired to do assistant work, not become your personal maid. The least you can do is treat me with some fucking respect!” 

A weight lifted from your chest. You took deep, heaving breaths and felt lighter than you ever had. Even before taking this soul sucking job. 

“Bend over,” he said quietly.

“What?” You asked.

Tre stood to his full height. Not quite reaching six feet, but close enough. He unbuttoned his suit jacket and then slipped it off, revealing a black, long sleeved shirt. He rolled up the cuffs.

“I’m spank that tight ass you keep taunting me with for every mistake you have on that report,” he said.

Whoa, what? “Did you not hear what I said?” You asked. You watched as inches of his forearm were revealed. Shit, this shouldn’t be so hot. But it was. Your mouth ran dry for entirely different reasons.

“Every word. Bend. Over. It’s a simple instruction to follow,” he said. The sleeves were at his elbow now. 

You barely thought about it. You bent over the desk, breasts pressing into the coolness of his desk. You felt him slide behind you. His thick hands rubbed over the fabric of your dress. He squeezed the fleshiness of your ass and you softly huffed. 

“Count out every mistake,” he said.

Smack! Red hot fire bloomed on your right ass cheek. “What the fuck,” you gasped.

“Count it, or we start over,” he said.

“One,” you immediately said. Was this really happening? 

Smack! Shit, it really was. “Two,” you gasped again, trying to fight off a moan. Your pussy ached with each subsequent hit. And he was not going easy on you. Each smack was severe, making you reach up on tiptoes to escape it. 

He wouldn’t let you. His hand found your ass in any way you had it displayed for him. No two smacks were similar. Some were harder than others. He never hit the same spot twice. Your ass was a mosaic of pain. Heat bloomed in tiny flickers. There was no way you were going to sit down after this.

“Fifteen,” you ground out. Your ass sought his hands, relished each smack he delivered. Your mind turned blissfully fuzzy. Nerves melting away until it was a tiny puddle at your feet. Fuck. You were so turned on and your panties were ruined. Soaked. 

Your clit throbbed in time with the flickering heat on your ass. And he continued to smack it. Your ass jiggled after each one. Your feet scrambled for purchase. 

“Twenty-two,” you cried out. Tears gathered in  your eyes. 

The final two smacks to your ass were the worst ones. He had been hiding that strength this entire time. He smacked you like he was truly punishing you for all of the mistakes on the report. You shuddered to think what he would do when he found out about the contract. 

He had maintained a professional demeanor throughout it all. He hadn’t spoken, except with soft grunts as the force of his smacks met your ass. He rubbed your booty and you moaned from the white hot pain. How the hell were you going to get home after this? 

Tre lowered the zipper on the back of your dress and you whimpered. What more could he fucking do right now?

The answer to that was swift as he pushed the edge of your skirt up and over your wide hips. He groaned with a soft, “fuck”, as he revealed your racy black panties. The lace was sheer with tiny flower designs woven into it. 

“I knew hiring you was a fucking mistake. Can’t even focus on shit around here,” he said. Though it seemed like he was talking to himself. 

“I thought you hated me,” you whispered. You wiped the wayward tears from your face. 

“You and these fucking outfits,” he answered back. He rolled your panties off of your damp pussy. He bent with it, so his breath trailed the back of your thighs and legs. He kissed his way back up. Plump lips placed soft kisses to your thighs and ass. Pain bloomed from his recent spanking and you moaned and moved away. He straightened and pulled your hips back. 

He smacked your bare ass this time. The wet sound was loud and lewd. You prayed that everyone was gone for the day. There was no way that these flimsy ass walls had good sound proofing. 

“Fuuuuuck,” you moaned out.

“That’s for being such a fuckin’ tease,” he said. His hands left you, going to his own fly as you heard the zipper and the frantic huffs as he hurried to free himself. 

“I wasn’t–”

“You know you were. Bending over every chance you got. Smiling every time I fuckin’ saw you. Wearing these outfits you know are not professional,” he said. 

He settled back behind you, groaning as you assumed he pumped himself. Fuck, you wanted to see. You looked back at him. Oh, that was a mistake. His head was thrown back, his arms moving jerkily as he pumped his thick length with his hand. 

Your pussy clenched as you watched him. You bit your lip at the sheer ecstasy on his face. You didn’t want to speak and interrupt him. While it was true that you dressed up a little more than your coworkers, these outfits were appropriate. You didn’t show unnecessary cleavage and your skirts were decent lengths.

Okay, maybe they went a little too high. But you spent most of your time behind a desk, who was really going to notice? It was better than the bland ass, off the rack looks these other girls wore. It was like they all shopped at the same, ugly ass store. Why should you be bland like them?

You were fucking gorgeous. And wearing pretty outfits made you feel beautiful and comfortable. You loved your heels. Why should you keep all that shit in the closet to make basic bitches feel nice? Fuck ‘em.

Tre rubbed the tip of his dick through your wet folds. You nearly buckled. Your knees collapsed and Tre roughly grabbed your hip to make you stand upright. 

You rested your cheek against the cold desk. The coolness helped cool off some of the heat burning through you. You moaned as his tip brushed against your clit. “Please,” you whispered.

“Please what?” He asked.

“Please, fuck me. I need it,” you moaned. God, it had been too fucking long since you got fucked. Not had sex. Got fucked. You had decent situationships in the past. Sure, you had fun. But to get fucked, you needed a certain type of man. 

He grunted as he shoved inside, stretching you completely. You cried out as he pulled back and shoved back in, getting his dick wetter from your juices alone. “Sweet fuck,” he moaned. 

“So fuckin’ wet for me.” He worked himself inside you, pushing into the warm, wet core of you. You were a vice grip on his dick. Welcoming him deeper and more easily with every glide. His fingers dug into your hips. 

“From now on, I’m checking over all of your work. If I catch more typos, that’s your ass,” he said.

How the hell could he expect you to listen when he was buried so deep inside of you, you were pretty sure with one more shove that he would hit your G-spot? You pathetically whimpered as his movements grew slippier. He slid in and out with more ease than before. 

His thrusts turned sharper. Each one shoved you against the desk. The hard plane of the desk shoved into your stomach. The pain was barely a thought. 

“Oh yes, yes,” you moaned.

“Takin’ this dick well,” he moaned. His thrusts increased. Barely giving you time to breathe in between each one. They were powerful and unrelenting. The desk rattled. His thighs pushed into yours, trapping you against the desk as he pounded into you. His hands around your hips were bruising. He had you slightly lifted, so your feet slightly dangled off of the ground. He supported you easily. 

The minimal praise from him made your heart soar and your pussy flutter. “Oh, you like that shit, don’t you?” 

“Uh-huh,” you moaned.

“Tell me you like it then,” he said.

“I like it,” you said.

“Like you mean it,” he said and gave another savage thrust that made you see stars. 

The desk made an intrusive knocking sound in time with his thrusting. That’s how hard he was fucking you. 

“Oh shit, I’m cumming,” you moaned. Your belly flipped as your orgasm built and built.

“Let it go, then,” he said.

You cried and whimpered as you came. 

“Mhm, let it go. Let it go. Mhm, feeling all of that,” he cooed while you came, stars going off like bombs in your weak vision. Your head swam. Your vision winked in and out. You were bliss personified, cumming with a type of euphoria you didn’t know existed.

You squeezed his dick as you came. “Get that shit nice and creamy,” he said. 

He continued to pound into you, fucking any last remnants of your orgasm out of you. He was so hard and thick, sliding in and out and wrenching every little sound he could out of you. 

Wet smacking and the rattle of his thrusts filled the room with a harmony you wanted on repeat forever. You were creamy for him. Needy for him. Needy for the way that he could fuck you stupid and you thanked him for it.

You managed to look back at him. Again, his head was thrown back. The wide expanse of his neck pulsed with a thick vein you wanted to lick. Sweat dripped down into his shirt. His sleeves were still rolled up. He was power and strength. Thick in every sense of the word.

Broad shoulders, soft beard, and those glasses. Good god, you loved those glasses on him. That wide smile of his. His rich, midnight skin. You could spend hours licking every inch of him and it wouldn’t nearly be enough. 

He was lost in you, lost with his dick pumping into you. Watching how you were making him feel, another orgasm built. It climbed its way to the surface, whisking you away to the stars again. Shooting through the universe with nothing to hold you down. Nothing to keep you anchored. You just floated like stardust around the cosmos. 

“Oh fuck, please,” you moaned. You didn’t know what the fuck you were saying. You were mumbling and moaning, unaware of anything but his hands on your hips. His dick inside you. His balls slapping your clit. Your hand moved behind you seeking his body. His thrusts were too much.

You pushed against him. You didn’t want him to stop. Just for him to ease a bit. Your swollen clit was sensitive as hell. You weren’t sure if you had another orgasm in you. It was too soon and his punishing pace was going to literally fuck you stupid in a minute.

“Move that fuckin’ hand before I do,” he spat. 

“But…Sir…” He was fucking the air out of you. You couldn’t breathe. “Fuck, please.” 

True to his word, he grabbed the hand that you were trying to push him away with. Your left hand was twisted behind your back as he leaned forward, deepening his strokes.

It turned harsher, fucking you into the desk. He’d fuck you through it if he could. His moans turned desperate.

“Fuck, fuck, fuck, fuck, fuck,” he moaned. “Take this nut.”

He groaned as he unleashed his climax inside of you. He filled you with his cum. His dick twitched and pulsed against your spongy walls as his cum was fucked into you. Still he moved, still he pounded into you like he was trying to prove something. 

His hips faltered as he sputtered the last of his cum. He buried himself to the hilt and a shiver ran through him. Your frantic breathing matched his as he slowly pulled out of you.

Fuck! You were fucking sore! A hundred baths wouldn’t soothe this shit. A moment later, his cum slipped out of you and you moaned. Well shit. No condom. Luckily, you were on the pill but still. You shouldn’t be so fucking horny that you didn’t talk about these things.

However, after getting fucked the way you just did, you’d happily accept his cum. Many times over. 

His cum leaked out of you, sliding down your pussy and legs. He groaned, leaned down, and spread your ass cheeks just to watch.

“Such a pretty fuckin’ pussy,” he said. He pushed two fingers inside and you whimpered. He grunted one last time and removed his fingers. 

He grabbed a few tissues off of his desk and started to clean you up. You hissed when he hit a sensitive spot. He kissed your ass and legs as he cleaned up. “So fuckin’ pretty. So fuckin’ beautiful,” he soothed as he cleaned.

You were a shaking mess. Your legs could not support you. He chuckled as he finished. He pulled his pants up first. You heard the slide of his belt buckle. Then, he pulled your panties up to cover your ass. Next, he lowered your skirt and fixed the zipper.

You were too weak to move from your spot. Too weak to stand up and say or do anything. You laid there in amazement. He helped you up and then steadied you while he lowered you into his chair. His chair.

He got to work, righting various knick knacks on his desk. He moved a tiny Christmas snow globe on his desk that you had brought him on the first day. He had raised his eyebrow at you, told you that you couldn’t bribe your way to a good start, and disappeared into his office. You thought he had thrown it away. You were too nervous to notice anything when you came into his office. Just his disapproving eyes and smug smirk. 

He moved the report back into the yellow envelope and closed it. He turned around and rested his ass against the desk. He tapped the file with his long fingers. “Be sure to correct this. We’ll go over it first thing in the morning.”

You glanced at him. “Yes, Sir,” you said with a hoarse voice. Fuck, your throat hurt. Everything hurt. He smirked as if he were reading your thoughts.

Yeah, a merry Christmas to you too, mu’fucker.

Masterlist | Part 2 | Part 3 | Part 4 | Part 5 | Part 6 | Part 7 | Part 8 - Completed

[fillinforlater]

Eleven to One: Hate You Lots

Male Reader x Ahn Yujin, Kim Minju, Kim Chaewon

Length: 7440 words

Tags: Daddy kink, perverted family, nudist kink, submission, kneeling, good girls, blow job, double blow job, deepthroating, face fuck, training, cursing, public, undressing, degradation, insulting, hate sex, someone calls you out on your weird behavior, sex in front of others, hair pulling, riding, bad sex, Chaewon is bad at sex, mentions of 2Kim, body licking, passionate kissing, maybe mind break?, cowgirl, fingering, dangerous sex, Yujin sells out her friend kekw

TW: hate sex, cursing, extreme Daddy kinks; Disclaimer: no, I don't believe you can turn gay people straight, ffs, I hope no one thinks that, and if you do, kindly turn on your brain or go away lol

Credit: @sooyadelicacies for co-writing

Inspiration: The big horny; also, someone has to oppose this crazy family kink/idea xD

(A/N: editing is not that great as is my health rn. Stay safe and healthy out there, everyone. Let's continue this fucked up saga with a crazy part and multiple scenes ;D)

“Daddy, you need to hurry up!” 

Yujin stands in the kitchen door and bops up and down like an excited puppy. She’d surely swing her tail around wildly if she were a dog, but that is besides the point. You’re still tired from stressful phone calls the night before. Doesn’t help that it’s still very early in the morning. If the sun hasn’t bothered showing up yet, why should you.

"Do we have to go watch this performance? They film these things so early all the time," you groan in annoyance and sip at your coffee.

"Daddy, please?” Yujin begs with folded hands and sparkling eyes. “It will be so nice to see Chaewon and Sakura perform again. I really like their new song and you will too!" 

When Yujin plays nice, it means she really wants something. This is close to a girl asking her Daddy for something—this comes too close to all the family stuff she has you fantasizing about lately. Try not to spit out your coffee and frantically wave your hand.

"Fine, we'll go. But I expect some pleasure when we get home,” you add with raised eyebrows and Yujin winks. “I have yet to meet Chaewon. Everyone describes her as lovable."

"Chaewon-unnie won't disappoint you. She sure is loveable. However, I think that she is showing new sides to herself."

"Sure, whatever. I'll set Hyewon up to go to the meeting then."

"Thank you so much, Daddy."

"Now look for a nice dress," you say, eyes roaming Yujin’s pajama-covered curves, "Only I get to see you like this."

"Of course, Daddy. I always wear outfits just for you… I think you'll like today's too." 

Yujin starts to undress. The dress is still in her room, but the pajamas fall off her slender figure already. You can never get enough of this extraordinary sight. You might be a bit pressed for time, but as you look over your naked Yujin, your lust gets the better of you. 

"I want you now, baby girl. Call for Minju too. No reason you two shouldn't be sucking my cock right now."

Yujin turns around on her heel and immediately kneels on the floor. Her hands rest idly on her lap and she gives you a hellish, seductive grin before calling out her former bandmates name:

"Minju-unnie~ come here a-s-a-p."

You hear steps coming from further down the floor. They are not normal steps, but rather from someone who was caught by surprise and stumbles towards you. A faint creak, Minju rushes from the bathroom to you and she quickly stops right next to Yujin. You eye the fresh make-up on her cheeks and light lipstick on her luscious lips. Sadly, you can't eye her naked body in all its glory, because she tries to cover most of it with her hands.

"Y-yes, Yujinie?" Minju asks shyly, trying not to stare down at Yujin’s immaculate body too much.

"I think Daddy wants something~"

Yujin's eyes narrow and she begins to stick out her tongue to show lots of drool pooling on it. She gradually crawls towards you, sticking out her bubble butt and shaking with blatant want. She is giving it her all to be desirable, submissive and still punishable. 

"Wh-what does Daddy need?" Minju asks kindly and turns to you. Make-up or not, her cheeks are rosy from embarrassment. She is still, even after a couple of weeks, not used to being in full nude before you, although she committed so willingly after you made her yours. 

You grab the hand covering Minju's pussy while Yujin finally reaches your tight pants and rubs her cheek onto the bulge with a purr. Yujin's fingers play with your zipper while yours play with Minju's clit. You flick it lightly once, then rougher. Tears glisten and sparkle in narrow eyes, and you look deeply into the mess Minju is slowly becoming. However, her arm still crosses her chest and hides her breasts.

"Daddy needs you, Minju, because you are his. I think we agreed on this, so show me your amazing body."

Her labia is wet to the touch, thus inserting a finger is easy. Minju tenses up for a second, but when you kiss her cheek, she relaxes and you plunge two more fingers into her. She screams out, but you plug her mouth the same way: three digits, hilt deep in a wet hole of hers. It’s like pushing all the right buttons to deactivate Minju’s resolve. Her arm falls from her chest. Finally, she is a bare feast for you.

"You can do better, Minmin," you say with a slight sigh of disappointment at the end. Your fingers move in and out of Minju faster and faster. In the meantime, Yujin takes a long ass time to free your length. It's probably because you are focused not on her but on teaching Minju a lesson, but this is no reason to keep you waiting. Yujin has no right to deny you your pleasure, yet she still finds ways to subtly tease you.

Remove your fingers from Minju's mouth and let her moan and whimper freely as she begins to grind on your deeply buried digits that twist and turn inside her hot walls. With your now free hand, you pull out your cock, much to Yujin's surprise, and slap it across her face. It's a shame that you have to give them a small punishment before you can get to the main course, but it's also not bad. Training puppies is more fun than you ever thought.

"I-I'm so-sorry, Daddy," Minju cries out and falls to her knees. It’s the only way to escape your fingers, however, it’s not a way to escape your rule. You immediately slap her face with your cock as well, until she finally sticks out her tongue, which Yujin instinctively does. The younger one has already stained the floor with her runny saliva, so before she ruins it entirely, you put your cock on her lips. You could call it a plug.

"Lube it up, bitch! Show me what your mouth is really useful for,” you groan at Yujin, then shift your attention to Minju. "Minmin, I called you here because I wanted you to join us, but you still have to learn a lot. I pray for your sake that you don’t stretch my patience intentionally. Get some saliva from Yujin and help her lube it up—or go back to your room! 

Oh, and Yujin: if you want to go to Chaewon's performance, you'll be a good girl, right?"

"Yes, Daddy!" the younger shouts.

"N-no, Daddy," her unnie whimpers cutely.

Two very different answers, but both are exactly what you want to hear. Minju makes a cute face while gathering saliva in her mouth and gets ready to kiss your cockhead. When Yujin turns to her however, ready to give some of her drool, Minju becomes a flushing mess. In panic, she misses Yujin’s lips and releases her collected drool all over her friend's cheek.  

Guess her feelings are quite strong for her ex-group members. 

Minju's saliva trails down Yujin's face and chin and the latter can't help but giggle. Not in her usual cute and cheerful way, but in a lewd, horny way. Yujin grabs Minju's tomato-colored head and finds her lips in a furious make-out session. The klutz is wide eyed at first, but she melts into Yujin, the Dongsaeng she so loves and her eyelids fall shut. Dams break and the flow of drool is like a raging torrent from one mouth to the other. You line yourself up right next to it.

Yujin frees herself and releases everything from her mouth. A skilled tongue wets almost your entire manhood, from your base to all over your balls and underside. Minju follows suit and her cute mouth releases a waterfall as well. It covers your tip and the remaining dry skin without fail. They both begin to spread and massage the lubricant all over your rigid shaft and full balls, making you groan deeply. Fucking finally.

"Minju, you look so cock drunk," you mock her. "I bet you are staining the floor with your stupidly sweet juices already."

"Swowwy, Daddy,” she babbles with no regard for manners as her mouth is stuffed with your rod.

"Are you sorry though?"

Yujin gives a strong suck on your balls; it’s more like she leaves a message. She is fed up with being ignored. Her lips pucker around every one of your most sensitive parts. She knows your cock inside out, of course. After all, it has been inside of her more time than she has had promotions—just how she likes it. 

You snarl nonetheless.

You don't let Minju answer as you push your tip deeper into her mouth, letting her suck it gently. You pet Yujin's head to signify you knew she was there. A surprise that it works. You really did break her back there. No bratty words, no teasing pout, just diligent stimulation of her Daddy’s dick.

Minju's cock sucking is always a sloppy affair. Her feisty face with glassy orbs is always a wonderful sight as she tries to shove it all inside her. She is still lacking however. You are sure this will not tip you over the edge, although she is able to extract precum from your slit with her quick tongue. The biggest issue is that she is scared to take the massive thing, shove it down her throat herself. Minju is not on the same sluttiness level as her Dongsaeng, who would gladly fuck herself on you until tears fall down—for a meal, for shoes, for a meeting with her Unnies. 

"Fuck, it's not enough," you groan in slight anger and slide your hand from Yujin's sweaty hair to Minju's brown locks. Grip them tightly to force her head down your phallus. Her forehead crashes onto your pelvis. Minju chokes, you groan, Yujin gasps.

"Minmin… you need more training. I'm losing patience, fuck,” you curse. This should have been an easy and casual affair, breezy and mindless but it takes effort to train Minju. If she wasn't so cute with a fuckable body, your hospitality would certainly expire at some point. Now, she is basically family, and you are willing to help her be a good girl, a good slut. Family, s-sure.

Doesn’t matter if you call yourself family, you push deeper against her throat anyways. She is here for your use. Yujin meanwhile keeps trying to put your balls in her mouth, down her throat almost, as if her life depends on it. Yujin is learning to share, with her mommies, with her sister, with her family. Not again, fucking family.

"Daddy, if she can't take it, then I'm ready. Ready to fulfill your desire."

Yujin’s purr pulls you out of your disturbingly hot thoughts. She pouts on your balls, her desperately pleading, yet sharp eyes watching you from below. She massages your thighs with her soft fingers, slobbers all over your balls and moans in her most delicate voice. Yujin doesn't only want attention, she wants to win and is determined to be the perfect, disgustingly drooling slut for you. Rivalry between siblings?

"Shut up! You better help your unnie get better at it. Maybe you'll get some reward, but that is out of your control."

This is the moment where she would usually roll her eyes, but Yujin is a changed girl now—or is she hiding her annoyance? Either way, Yujin backs off behind Minju, who chokes on your cock whenever you pull her closer to your crotch. Tears and sweat of her struggle cover her face, yet she still doesn’t get it. 

Your grip on Minju's hair loosens when Yujin's fingers seductively crawl up Minju's neck to the top of her head. The older girl gets goosebumps and wide eyes at the sensation and then shrieks. Yujin has her long, healthy locks in a tight grip.

"Unnie," she says in a bitchy and unamused tone, something very rare these days. "I really love you, but you're doing this wrong. Let me help."

What follows somewhat negates the fact that Yujin just told Minju that she loves her. With unexpected roughness, she starts to slam down the elders face onto your pelvis. Minju's forehead forcefully touches your abdomen and your dick breaks every barrier in her throat to reach deep into her. She gargles on her own spit for a second and chokes like it would actually save her from the massiveness blocking her air flow. 

"Like. This. Unnie. Down."

Yujin pulls Minju back at her hair and with each new word she mimics a deep throating motion only a goddess of cocksucking could manage—and Minju is definitely no goddess at it yet. She tries her best to take it, to go at the pace herself, but Yujin just goes faster. It's impossible for her to adapt to the speed, but for you, this struggle is an even greater joy.

"Oh God, this is good. Actually fucking good!"

You groan and smile with the confidence of someone who has earned this and the more you think about it, the further you feel validated. Your hands cannot remain idle, they want to reach for Minju's hair. Yujin however gives you no reason to do so, and so you dig your fingers into hers, those perfect brown strands on this perfect bitch.

"Train her well, Yujin."

"I will, Daddy."

"Good. Open your mouth."

Yujin smiles greedily, the cock hungriness of a million horny sluts in her eyes. Her grip on Minju loosens and you give the beautiful, ruined klutz a chance to breathe. Minju falls to the floor coughing and spitting, her makeup everywhere but their original position. 

Your girlfriend's mouth opens invitingly. Your length disappears inside her and you burst at the distinctive, perfect touch of her tongue. Yujin's eyes are bright and wide open as she receives the gift of validation, of triumph over your adoration for Minju. More than a mouthful of cum, enough to satisfy her hunger and encourage her cock drunkness. 

"You need more training," you calmly say to Minju while patting Yujin as she cleans your dick. "Otherwise Daddy will be disappointed."

"I... I understand, Daddy. D-do you stil—”

"Don't ask such a question,” you interrupt her firmly, but with more care and love than you ever did before.  “I'm sure you will do good next time, hm?"

"Y-yes, Daddy."

#

No matter how rich you are, you cannot control time. Hours fly by and the meet-up you promised Yujin to go to arrives faster than you wanted. You had to control yourself after seeing your girlfriend's outfit, that amazing dress showing off her body incredibly well. It looked as hot as her bare body, maybe even better in a way.

Control over your urges becomes better with boring people around you. The directors, cameramen and managers get easily fooled by Yujin's act. Yujin remains professional, no one can assume any kind of special or weird relationship between the two of you. A simple meeting, they don’t even ask you a single question. Is it really this easy to get behind the scenes of such a shoot?

After the boring introductions are over, you get ready for new, more fun ones.

First off is Sakura. The second she sees Yujin and you exit the conference room with all the managers, she leaves her bandmates behind and runs over. Her upper body is covered by a pink blanket to keep her warm, but below it you see hints of a white stage outfit. Baggy trousers and some kind of crop top.

The smaller Sakura stands before her Dongsaeng and gets in position to bow down, but Yujin quickly embraces her. With glee she shouts:

"Unnie, I missed you so much! It's been so long."

"Yujinnie, were you always this tall?"

"Yah! You sound like a grandma."

The two of them start to giggle and you give them a weak smile. The others should not catch you being suspicious, so you look around the vast hall. A very simplistic set, mostly colored in gray. In between the expensive camera equipment and handful of staff, you eye another person clothed in white. Your jaw begins to fall as you inspect the revealing outfit and incredible body more and more. This is definitely sluttier than anything Yujin ever wore in any of her stages. 

You cough and look back down to your girlfriend who is still giggling and chatting with Sakura. The two of them are holding hands and you see Yujin's eyes sparkle in happiness. Good for her, definitely, but your cockhead is already urging you to think of someone else. Who is wearing this loose, insane collection of white stripes barely hiding anything?

"Oh shoot, we're about to perform," Sakura gasps and quickly hugs Yujin. Before she leaves, she gives you an unmistakable wink and a classic, beautiful smile, "Thank you for coming!"

"Unnie, fighting!"

"Glad to see you enjoying yourself," you whisper, but Yujin puts a finger on your lips.

"You don't want to miss this. I'm pretty sure Chaewon will be to your liking."

#

“Impurities / show you my impurities.”

"Cut!” the director shouts as the girl group members still stand there, frozen in the final pose of their dance. “Well done! We'll wrap things up for today."

Everyone cheers and claps, the shoot went excellent. Yujin besides you joins in as well, even the last random staff sitting in the corner applauds.

Everyone except you. You are completely feral. All because of this one fucking girl, with her short black hair in stark contrast to her slutty white outfit. All because she has to look so fucking hot while dancing this already provocative dance. All because of her fucking impurities. You almost lose your cool and reach for Yujin's ass, but this is not the time, not the place, not even for this. Fucking Chaewon, fuck.

Chaewon walks over and screeches when she sees her beloved Dongsaeng. Unlike with Sakura, the two of them immediately crash into one another and exchange hugs, jokes and all the banter they can come up with. This time, you are unable to look away for long. Chaewon's ass has its own gravity. It pulls your gaze back every time you notice how long you've been staring. 

"Unnie, you are so good! And you look so good! This is going to be such a hit," Yujin babbles.

"You are one to talk," Chaewon responds in delight. "You have grown to become a beautiful woman. I bet you will make someone really happy one day."

Yujin grins and whispers directly into Chaewon's ear. From your point of view, it's impossible to understand anything, let alone read her lips. After a short while, Chaewon backs out of the hug. The situation has grown tense, cold even, but it gets even colder for you when Chaewon suddenly walks up to you. She stares—not into your eyes, but straight to your soul.

"You fucking pig."

"Excuse me?"

"You are disgusting. I swear to God, if you do anything fucked up... I'm going to fuck you up so bad, until you—ugh!"

Chaewon’s sentence is cut off by a disgusted gag. She stomps away quickly, her face filled with despise and harsh anger. The sway of her hips is even stronger than before now, which disturbs your feelings. Confusion and horniness force you to stand and ogle her bubble butt while your heart cannot comprehend these conflicting emotions inside you.

"What the fuck was that?" you whisper to Yujin, as she guides you out of the studio. "What the hell did you tell her that she would get this pissed?"

"Look," Yujin says, her tone far from playful and bratty, much closer to serious and guilty. "I knew that you would get the hots for her, but I didn't know that she would hate the idea so much."

"Which idea? What did you tell her, Yujin?" 

The two of you flee towards your car to get some actual privacy. You can't raise your voice to her in public after all, although now might be the perfect time. Depending on what she just told Chaewon, literally everything could be in deep shit.

"Chill, Daddy, I told her that you are my boyfriend and that we'd like to have a threesome with her. Nothing too crazy, just something to sooth her in."

"And?"

"I-I mentioned the Daddy kink… and a b-bit more, you-you know?"

You sigh and put on your seatbelt. The engine roars and you start to race towards your apartment. Whatever Yujin means by ‘a bit more’, it made Chaewon seriously angry, which could make things bad for you quickly. Your mind tries to find a good response or solution to it, at the very least, you should find a punishment for Yujin that suits her stupid behavior. 

A red light makes you hit the breaks. Yujin's hand immediately travels to your thigh and massages it. Coldly, you slap it away.

"Get in the backseat. I need to find a solution to this. And you better help me think, slut."

Yujin obediently climbs over the center console and positions herself in the middle of the back row. Through the rearview mirror, you see her in her gorgeous black dress with those sexy black stockings and her ruinable hair, make-up, face. You click your tongue as the lights turn green.

"Daddy, I'm sorry,” Yujin stutters to defend herself. “To-to be honest, I was convinced Chaewon—l-look, I relied on her being needy and desperate. A-and because you are so hot, I thought she was down for it."

"Undress."

"Wh-what."

"You heard me right, bitch. Get out of that dress. Slowly. I want to see what I own."

Yujin nods hesitantly. Her fingers fidget at the silky hem of her expensive dress and she begins to slowly pull up. Goosebumps of fear and excitement spread over her pale skin. She knows that those side windows are tainted, but the front is of course still wide open. Anyone could catch the unlikely, yet possible glimpse of her bare body if she continues this. 

"Go on, " you snark in excessive annoyance, "Either give me a solution or get rid of that dress."

"I-I, " Yujin stutters. You hit the breaks at another red light and stare through the mirror. Your eyes lock and before you can order her to go full nude, she jumps in realization.

"Minju! I-I know a way, Daddy!"

"What?"

"Uhm... Minju is, if you remember from our punishment game, ve-very much into Chaewon, a-and as far as I know, Chaewon feels the same."

"So?" you say impatiently, fingers tipping the top of the steering wheel. The light turns green. You hit the throttle and as the Mercedes accelerates, you can hear Yujin's plan play out in your head. Guess she won't have to drive around naked. 

At least not this time.

#

"Step 1: Get Minju and Chaewon to be on a call."

The plan starts off easy. All it takes for this to happen is for you and Minju to be home at the same time, which happens quite frankly. After all, Minju is not an actively training idol anymore and Hyewon is doing a good job right now, so you can stay at home with no worries. Now you only need to find a fitting moment.

Minju walks into the kitchen. Some sixth sense inside your crotch tells you to take the opportunity. Right now, now or never, a perfect time frame, whatever you may call it, it's enough to make you jump up and follow the naked beauty. Minju reaches for one of the upper shelves, a cookie box on top of it. She looks adorable, trying to grasp the metal frame of the colorful box. You grab her waist from behind and sit her on the opposite counter top. For no reason, you press a kiss on her lips.

"Huh? D-Daddy?"

"Fuck, you are beautiful. Uhm, did you want the cookies."

"Y-yeah, i-if I may."

"Of course."

You grab one of them and give it to her. As she begins to happily much on it, you give her her cellphone.

"Can you call Chaewon?"

"Chaewon-unnie? Why?"

"Well... I'm pretty sure she misses you. And it's shortly after noon, so she’s probably on a break right now."

You press your hands into Minju's thighs, massaging them, spreading them, while getting close to her face and whispering: 

"Don't you want to see her again? Maybe set up a meeting to kiss?"

Minju blushes. She tries to hide her face, an odd visual as her whole body is in full nude and her pussy more and more visible from your spreading her legs. Nonetheless, she still searches for Chaewon's number and calls her the second the last cookie crumbs tumble down her throat.

"Unnie! This is Minju! Yes. Yes, I miss you too. We haven't talked in forever."

The two of them engage in a lively conversation immediately. Minju is engaged, distracted, as you predicted. Her beautiful smile and giggles as she gets teased are so endearing, you feel a little bad for using her.

"Step 2: Let Chaewon hear how good you make Minju feel."

Minju's legs are spread. She is not completely oblivious to it, as she gives you concerned glances, but she does not close them. She really became a good girl, so you will treat her like one. Grab her thighs and adjust her on the surface, then lower yourself to her crotch.

"U-u-unnie, I..."

You blow on Minju's pussy and then dive tongue-first into the pink, twitching entrance.

Your taste buds get a taste of what she seems to be leaking all the time and you can't lie: it's addicting. Her juice is like honey, but a lot less tenacious and easily consumable. With your tongue spreading her lips, you get a good amount of it and she is obviously unable to understand what Chaewon is saying. 

You enjoy her taste, but her odor might be even better. She smells fresh like a rose and needy like the good girl she is slowly becoming for her Daddy. You could sniff her for longer, but the time is ticking. Chaewon won't stay on the phone forever after all, so you drag your tongue over Minju's labia. Her legs jerk lightly and she whimpers softly, softer than her folds. Those folds get greedily attacked by your licks, the left side, the right side, then all over. A first moan is imminent, and Minju releases it right into the speaker.

"Minmin?" Chaewon asks worriedly, "Are you alright?"

"Y-yes, I—hng, ah!"

Suck on her clit and Minju's phone tumbles out of her hand. You quickly pick it up and put it against her mouth. Chaewon shall hear every sound, every pant, every sexy moan from Minju's pretty lips.

"Minmin, what's happening?"

"I-It's okay, hng, it feels so go-good, ah!"

Minju's hand in your hair is unsure if it should push you away from her twitching core or deeper into it. Her thighs however are a lot more honest. They press down on your ears from each side. The more viciously you lick and suck, the less gentle they become. 

"What feels good? Wait, are you masturbating? During a call?!"

"N-no, I, " Minju stops and her teary eyes look down at you. You quickly nod and give her an award in advance: a sudden finger in her empty, greedy pussy.

"I-I'm not, Unnie, he-he is just so good, ah! I'm gon-gonna cu—"

Minju mindlessly screams and squirts as you finger-and-tongue-fuck her over the edge. The fact that she cums so easily now makes you proud and you'd love to drink more from her leaking hole, but you have your fun adventure to not only end a call, but also start a new crazy chapter in your life.

"Who, Minju who in the fucking hell—"

"It's me, Chaewon,” you say in a dismissive, confident tone. “Yes, me. The fucking pig. I bet you know where to find me. But don't get your hopes high."

You give Minju a loud, sloppy kiss as she still moans in deep blissfulness. 

"Minju is mine."

#

"Step 3: Wait."

A ring at your doorbell. Minju walks to the speaker and filled with enthusiasm, she presses the button to call Chaewon's elevator up. She leaves the door open and walks back to you. 

"Well done, Minmin. Are you not embarrassed? Being naked before Chaewon?"

"No, no," she shakes her head cutely, then blushes, "we saw each other naked often."

"Oh? So you two did more than just kissing, huh~?"

Minju's blush grows. In what can only be the universe's irony, she rather hides her face then her exposed pussy and medium size breasts. She has really gotten used to being naked—or it's because she is still euphoric from your cock being in her right after the call ended?

"Do you want to do it again?"

Your question makes Minju look up at your closer coming figure. You love the shyness and innocence she still has even after all that has happened. It makes you want to cuddle her—or break her again, fuck her mindlessly against the wall, in the shower or in front of her friend.

"Do you want to have sex with Chaewon? Or do you want this?"

You drop your dress pants and although her eyes remain locked with yours, her hand instinctively reaches for your still hard cock. Another clear victory for you, as she strokes you.

"Minmin, where are you?" Chaewon shouts from the front door.

"Tell her where you are, Minmin, " you sadistically whisper into her ear. "Tell her who owns you, tell her where you reside, where you spend your days naked and being a whore. Minmin look at me. Would you ever touch Chaewon without Daddy's permission? Would you ever want to? Or is Daddy all you need, all you ever want?" 

You put your hand at her chin and hold her up to you, oozing a wad of spit from your mouth into hers. Suddenly, Chaewon rushes in and stops in the door frame. With an inner grin, you let even more spit run down on Minju's tongue and down her chin which you firmly hold. Feeling your own saliva has rarely felt this good.

"Min... Minju what is—you fucking bastard, you pig! I'm going to kill you!"

If she would follow up her words, Chaewon would need to leap towards you and tackle you to the ground, yet she still stands there, her knees shaking from anger, her hands in firm fists. You smirk at her, not concerned in the slightest. All that matters rests in your palm and is as well-trained as ever.. It’s the same as with Hyewon: you have all the leverage, not only the feeling of power, but real power. You are not going to hold it back

"What's wrong?” you respond with utmost wit. “Come and kill me then. But I assume you won’t even step into the room, what a disappointment. Minmin, tell Chaewon what we just discussed. Tell her everything."

"Shut the fuck up!” Chaewon screams at the top of her lungs, face boiling bright red in rage. “Minju, get away from him. You don't have to do that. He is just using you to cheat on Yujin!"

"B-but Unnie," Minju gulps down your spit and gives her friend a serious, determined look. "This is my home, this is where I-I walk around naked everyday. This is my Daddy and I'm so happy he owns me and f-fucks me. Thank you, Daddy."

Minju gets on her toes and you pull at her chin to start a short, passionate torrent of kisses, while her pussy presses down on your upright shaft. Chaewon gasps.

"Cheat on Yujin?” you say with slight indignation, as your tongue slips from Minju’s lips. “I would never and have never. In fact, Yujin is the one who pushed Minju here in the first place! I didn't want her here, but she's proven to be a fun toy and a good girl for Daddy. Isn't that right Minju? 

She nods eagerly, her eyes shimmering, licking the spit on her face or the juice in her crotch. You firmly squeeze her chin and stare her down to the absolute shock of her friend.

“Now, you didn't listen to me fully. Would you ever touch Chaewon without Daddy's permission? Would you ever desire her without my approval? Who has given you the greatest happiness and pleasure in your life, who do you love the most, Minmin?"

"I love Chaewon, but I want Daddy. Daddy owns me, I only want your cock."

"Good girl," you growl with a smirk. She didn't need to be so cute about it, but you can't help but dig into her collarbone with kisses while lifting her light body up. She wraps her legs around your waist and with ease, your cock penetrates her slick pussy. Without caring for the frozen Chaewon, you carry Minju to the couch.

"Ride Daddy, Minju. Show Chaewon how you bounce on someone you really love."

"Yo-you are a bit mean, Dad—ah!"

You give her a heavy thrust and a spank on her firm ass. The hit on both her inside and outside leaves her mewling and she abides. Much to the dismay of Chaewon, Minju starts to bounce on your cock like a marble bounces down an endless staircase. Her hands are wrapped around your nape and you enjoy the sight of her delirious face and shaking tits.

"Good girl Minmin. Who has given you the best pleasure, baby girl? Is it Chaewon or me?"

"Daddy! Daddy is the best!"

"That's fucking enough!"

Chaewon finally gathered her strength. Her stomps are strong. Like an angry hoard of buffaloes, she storms over to you and wraps her arms around Minju. With one strong pull, she gets her Dongsaeng off of your cock. 

"N-no, Unnie, I want."

"Minju, he won't do this to you anymore."

Chaewon reaches for both your tip and your throat. Mercilessly, she squeezes down on both of them while locking eyes. Her dark irises are like a void of hatred, sucking you in. The power of a blackhole, while her hands use the power to suffocate your pleasure. 

Yet you don't break a sweat. With a badly faked whimper, you say what she probably wants to hear.

"I'm so scared, oh no, don't kill me Chaewon."

"Chaewon! What the hell are you doing? Get away from him right now!" 

You smirk as Chaewon turns around and sees an angry, truly angry Minju. This wasn't anger of jealousy or desire, but of seeing a loved one in danger, a need to protect.

"You are out of your mind, Minju!" Chaewon shouts back at her friend and stares. The blackholes that couldn't do anything to you, seem to be effective. No matter how angry Minju is, she will always be soft at heart. She backs off, still irritated and clearly unsatisfied. 

It's a circus you love to see. Anything to make Chaewon crack a little more.

"Wow, calling your best friend these words. You must be the one out of your mind, Chaewon. Maybe the bitchiness has clouded your brain."

"Shut up, shut up, shut up! I hate you, I hate you so fucking much. I will... I will take this from you."

She squeezes your cock even tighter. 

"This? You want to rip it off?" you laugh at her face.

"No. I will drain you. Remove all the pleasure from what you think your 'power' is."

Chaewon leans to your face and digs all of her fingernails into your skin. The pain in your facade is the only thing that you don't have to fake anymore. It hurts like hell.

"And then I'll take Minju back."

"Oh ho," you mockingly hum. Chaewon rids herself of her skirt and panties. For the first time, she isn't pressing something down or into your throat. You probably bleed from there, if not it's just the sweat. But to win this, every drop of blood, sweat and tears is worth it. 

"I'll fucking fuck you till your breath stops, pathetic son of a bitch."

Chaewon does not give you a chance to respond. The palm of her hand is firmly pressed on your lips as she sinks on your shaft. Her pussy, a freshly shaved innie, is incredibly tight and she struggles to get you in. In frustration, she spits in her hand and lubes you up. 

You try to make a scene by flailing with your arms. Maybe she really believes that she can break you this way. But there is certainly a small part in her that just wants to try it. The pleasure you give to her Dongsaengs, the temptation that is your body and cock, they are all too great to not be a factor in her bizarre decision to straddle your lap.

"Shit," Chaewon winces when you finally pierce her open. This time the penetration is a bit easier, but she still struggles. Her plan looks even more embarrassing now. How in the hell does she want to hurt you if she is already hurting at this stage. 

"U-Unnie, stop doing that," Minju urges her from the side, stern concern in her voice.

Chaewon shakes her head and wipes a tear off her face. She's got you almost entirely inside her and starts to wiggle her hips a little. You can't lie, this isn't a lot of fun for you either. She is too dry inside and compared to the enthusiastic, submissive Minju, she is absolutely no fun. If you were doomed to always have sex like this for the rest of your life, she would have succeeded in breaking your spirit.

Luckily, this is not the case.

"W-well? Already hating it?" Chaewon asks, her voice trying to sound triumphant while her face contorts in pain. She removes her hand from your lips and you frown at her, unimpressed, unfazed.

"Minju, come over here."

Your command is followed instantly. Minju kneels next to you, her beautiful body upright on the couch. Her gorgeous breasts are on your eye-level and you have to force yourself to look past them. Her face is painted with uncertainty and neediness.

"Yes, Daddy? Ah!"

Instead of answering her, you stick two fingers into her entrance below. Minju begins to mewl like a cute kitten and the envy on Chaewon's face is priceless. Surely she can attack you in this position, but as she is unable to adjust to the large phallus inside her, she won't do anything.

"Your Unnie doesn't feel as great as you. Do you think there is any way we can help her, how you can help her?"

"Daddy, I know e-every spot that Chaewon-unnie likes."

"No, Minju, no," Chaewon whines, but before she can get a hand on her friend, you grab both her wrists and hold them tightly.

"That's great, but first, give me Chaewon's panties. We have to tie her up, she has been very naughty."

This is the moment Chaewon should realize that her plan was futile and stupid to begin with and that her curiosity and libido got the better of her. With her smelly panties, she receives the treatment of a caught criminal, all while her friend is playing along. The only way out would be to leave, but this would mean to leave Minju behind.

Chaewon's heart cannot allow this. It cannot forget how strong she feels whenever the taller girl smiles or waves at her, when they cuddled in bed during the covid scares, when they cried together after the final concert. All the times they got intimate together—she can't leave her behind.

"Good girl," you groan to Minju and caress her cheek. In Chaewon's mind, you're saying it to her and she hates it. She hates every last bit of you. The way you nuzzle up into Minju to whisper to her. The way you control her and force her to call you Daddy. The way you make her—

"Ah, Minju, no-not there!"

Minju places soft, slow kisses below Chaewon's navel and works her way in a zig-zag pattern from thigh to thigh. Only a few things make the fierce leader weaker than this and only Minju knows of them.

"You're doing so good, Minju."

Your praise is met with a hum when you massage her butt and then move back to gently play with her clit. Minju moves further up. She licks Chaewon's underboob, not caring about the salty sweat which resides there. Goosebumps travel all over Chaewon's skin and when Minju finally leeches onto one of her nipples, you feel it without a doubt.

"Oh, it's working,” you say excitedly as a surge of juice lubes up your shaft inside Chaewon, and you decide to tease her with it. “Chaewon, are you getting wetter?"

"N-no, pig. Fuck, I h-hate y-you."

"That's why you're here, hm? Then do it! Free 'your' Minju."

The small woman gets into position again. Your cock almost slipped all the way out of her, it's a lot easier for her to let you glide inside. However, her untrained walls still struggle with the last inch. No matter how much she forces herself, it’s not enough, agonizing for both of you. The entirety of her riding is sloppy, absolutely unenjoyable.

All her adjustments and attempts to take you faster or more of your dick end the same way: with a groan of disappointment. You let her try it over and over again, but her attempt at hate sex is nowhere near overstimulation or pain. There is a lot more boredom, although her walls have potential.

"Fuck, Chaewon, that's not gonna work."

You roll your eyes and Chaewon actually stops. Tears are in the corner of her eyes and when you look over to Minju, she seems pretty upset as well. Her only comfort is your hand rubbing her softly on her sensitive spots.

"You're pretty shit at this, wow,” you dryly whisper your factual insult. “I thought you wanted Minju back, make me resign and give up, but this is just downright bad."

"Wh-what? What the fuck are you saying?"

Chaewon is in disbelief. Her tied up hands smack your chest. You swat them away and get a hand in her short black hair. 

"I'm being totally serious here. You fuck like someone who has no experience. This way, you won't get anything out of me."

You look over to Minju and when she reacts, you press a kiss on her tender lips. You coo a 'good girl' at her and she giggles cutely. Chaewon realizes the meaning of your words and immediately climbs off of your cock.

"Fuck you. I don't need that. You're a disgusting piece of shit, I don't want your fucking compliments."

"No, I bet you much rather walk to the next guy, have sex with him and let him either lie or tell you the gut punching truth. Chaewon, only here can you train without it becoming a rumor. Only here can you see Minju. These are just the facts, but do whatever you want."

"Ugh, fucking hell,” Chaewon curses with shame and disgust written all over her pretty face. She struggles for a second, then tears the tied up panties around her wrists open. To her dismay, they are completely useless now. 

"Okay, Mr. Sex-Expert-Pig. What the fuck do you think is wrong? I bet I could make any guy cum in under a minute."

You scoff and stare her down.

"Oh, and then why weren't you able to make a horny 'pig' like me to cum? Do better Chaewon. Your technique, your enthusiasm, your movement are all weak. I—"

"Fucking fine then!” Chaewon screams and sends her skirt flying into a nearby wall. “I'll fuck you. I'll fuck my anger onto you every fucking day if it means getting bett—getting Minju back. And then you'll see!"

"Oh, you can try, but all compliments are reserved for good girls."

You hug Minju's waist. The cute girl is completely confused by what is happening, but she sure enjoys your affection and repeated kisses. When you press your palm to the back of her head, she wanders down your body and begins to lick your cock blissfully.

"Urg, I'm not calling you Daddy. In fact, I won't do anything for you. I'll fuck the compliments out of you and then Minju will see how pathetic you are, pig."

"I bet you will die trying, bitch."

[xxsycamore]

KING'S GAME

╰┈➤ ❝ I just need to know in case…❞ ❝ In case what? In case you take it a little too far in role-playing? In case you go down on me and the words mon empereur leave your lips? ❞ - After a round of some silly drinking game, MC can't help but have certain thoughts about Napoleon and how easily he takes on the role of someone in power. Naturally, she wants to know his boundaries of it.

Napoleon Bonaparte/MC • rating: E (MDNI) • tags: Drinking Games; Alcohol; Shenanigans; Humor; Sexual Tension; Massage; Kink Negotiation; Sexual Roleplay; Power Play; Dominant Napoleon; Dom/sub; Master/Servant; Blow Jobs; Oral Sex; Choking; Dacryphilia; Stripping; Dirty Talk; Vaginal Fingering; Begging; Vaginal Sex; Creampie; Aftercare • wordcount: 6,055 • masterlist

a/n: The idea for this fic was conceived long before an event of the same theme came to Ikevamp EN... We ended up not seeing them all play together in the game so I hope this right here fixes that, maybe? I have no idea how it ended up being that long. I guess I've been looking for the right opportunity to explore this part of Napoleon's character in a smut fic, namely his feelings about being called emperor and the likes in the bedroom. Hope you enjoy!

"Oh, I know! How about we play the Ousama game? It's a popular drinking game back home, in my era!"

It's rare for MC to be the one initiating activities on game nights, so naturally, all eyes are on her. Dazai is quick to give his enthusiastic approval, wanting to know more about a game that came after his time but originates from his homeplace. Sebastian smiles in a similar fashion.

"Good pick, MC. I think our residents are going to like it. Will you please excuse me for a second?"

As Sebastian stands up from the table and dashes out of the room, someone's comment oh my god, he's totally fetching his diary, can be heard. But really, there are no hard feelings. Everyone's more than happy to welcome Sebastian at the table and see him being more open and relaxed around his masters for once. Maybe it does have to be documented.

"It's not something like Arthur's games, I assume?" Isaac directs his gaze at MC, almost pleading under the surface for an affirmative response.

She rubs awkwardly at the back of her neck. As much as she hates to disappoint him…

"Erm, it's basically a game of dares… but don't worry, you can always refuse a dare!"

"That's it, if you want to take the punishment, Newt." Arthur seems ready to dance on the physicist's nerves with a complimenting chin-cupping stance, elbows rested on the table and all. Theo rolls his eyes.

"Let me guess. Refuse a dare and drink a shot."

"That's correct." MC nods before Arthur can take more liberties at orchestrating her own game, even if they happen to be thinking in the same direction. "Let me go get what we need for the game!"

By the time Sebastian is back and patting his breast pocket suspiciously, so is MC, with a handful of… chopsticks. And a fountain pen.

"So, what I'm going to do now is write a number for each one of us… Vincent, Theo, Arthur, Isaac, Mozart, Dazai, Sebastian, Napoleon, and I…so that means numbers 1 to 8, and on the ninth chopstick, I'm going to write Ousama - which means 'King' - and then we shuffle the chopsticks in a cup - Arthur, can you pass me the empty cup next to you? - then we each take one but without showing our numbers to the others. Whoever gets the Ousama chopstick becomes King and he places a dare for someone, using the numbers! Is everything clear?"

"Uh. What kind of dares are allowed?"

Napoleon nods at the direction the question originates from. "Good point. Hey, maybe tone it down with the sexual stuff. There are taken people at the table."

Arthur snaps, "Why are you looking at me? I wasn't intending to. Besides, if a dare doesn't stand right with you, you can always drink and avoid it!"

Memories of other game nights seem to flood multiple minds at once, so MC lets out a half-chuckle half-sigh and moves on. She does take a mental note of the hint of possessiveness in Napoleon's comment just now who instantly got worried about another man being prompted to touch her inappropriately. As if anyone has the balls to touch Napoleon's woman, she thinks to herself… and kind of likes the way it sounds in her head.

It's a shame that Leonardo and Comte aren't joining them tonight and are instead enjoying a more sane way of getting alcohol in their system, in some quiet corner of the mansion. And Comte is totally not smoking a cigarillo right now while talking to his old friend, claiming that he hasn't had one in forever, again. And for that matter, Jean's presence is missed as well, but sadly (although understandably) he dislikes partaking in such activities. He's a lot like Mozart in this regard, with the difference that Mozart becomes another person when he drinks some. And that person loves joining drinking games with his buddies!

"If we're all ready - here we go!"

MC gives the cup a rather unnecessary bartender-style shake, assuring the chopsticks are well shuffled and ready to make it to all the wrong hands.

Once placed on the table, a crowd of hands quickly reach into the cup and sneakily withdraw in order to hide their new secret identity, with the exception of one person who has nothing to hide.

"I'm the king. My, I wasn't prepared for this."

As Sebastian holds up the chopstick of fate high in the air for all to see, a few pairs of surprised eyes catch his own. And something like a shimmer lights up in Sebastian's ones.

For someone as unprepared as him, he surely doesn't waste time on thinking about his next move. Not at all.

"Number 6, exchange a clothing item with number 1. Number 3, take off your pants without using your hands. And number 4 must do a handstand."

"By Jove, Sebas, your fetishes are showing!" Arthur blinks, both surprised and somehow entertained by the turn of events which (in his own head) kicks him off the position of number one most perverted person around the table. Or at least for the time being. He's only smiling now because he's safe, being the lucky number 7 and out of Sebastian's fantasies.

Isaac and Theo can't say the same. They exchange a look - eyes traveling up and down each other's frames - looking for a convenient clothing item to exchange, given their different builds. Theo is done with his choice first, and he reaches over the table to undo Isaac's necktie. The smaller man averts his gaze, turning his head away as much as he can so it's not in Theo's way, or perhaps out of embarrassment, but it's over before it ever began thanks to Theo's rough but effective methods of freeing the cloth from under his collar. Using the chance coming with the shortened distance, Isaac snatches Theo's scarf in return as the most adequate thing to take.

"Aw, you two are boring." Napoleon mocks for change, drumming his fingers on the table with a smirk. Theo muses with the thin black tie in his hands, turning to Napoleon with an empty look and silently wrapping it around his forehead instead, tying it off at the side.

"Is this better?"

"Snrk. I don't know, what do we think, Sebas?"

"I approve of your new look, Master Theodorus. Or should I drop the 'Master'? I'm the King now, after all."

MC gasps, "Sebas! Oh, this game is dangerous…"

"Tell me about it. My first dare and I already have to drink. Woe is me." Dazai weeps, rising up from his seat to point at his hakama, making it impossible for him to complete the take off your pants without hands dare.

"Guess that leaves me." Napoleon sighs, pushing his chair back audibly as he stands up.

"Ooh! Go for it, Naps!"

"Good thing it went to someone who's in good shape. I bet it's a piece of cake for him."

"We'll see now." Napoleon smirks to himself, rubbing his hands together as he prepares to tackle the handstand. His eyes get serious for a second as he calculates it all, and in the next moment, his hands are flat against the floor changing the center of his weight. While he's upside down, the gravity makes his partly untucked shirt expose his abs.

Someone whistles, and MC finds herself staring. As if for the first time.

All too soon, Napoleon is back on his feet again, dusting off his palms and retaking his seat by the table. Sebastian is beaming. "I like this game. Thank you for the idea, MC."

"Thank you, MC." Mozart chimes in, for some reason, oblivious to Sebastian making history tonight as opposed to quietly observing it from the side like usual.

"Haha, you guys are welcome… so, let's do it again, shall we? Let's see who will be King this time around~!"

After the new shuffle of chopsticks, everyone seems a little more lively, a little more hopeful - some driven by revenge and some simply by the contagious evil brewing in the air.

"Who is King?"

Out of the people looking at their newly acquired chopsticks, Napoleon is the one who speaks up.

"I guess that would be me."

"It's Napoleon, huh…"

"Oh, how fitting! You were born for it, Naps."

"Haha, not really."

"My bad. You're an emperor, not a king. I'm so sorry, Your Majesty."

Napoleon snorts, not playing along - or perhaps his dismissing the extended apology is his way of playing along. MC raises an eyebrow, studying his reaction. Napoleon's attitude towards these things is… rather complicated, as he seems to both loathe his so-called days of glory and simultaneously accept them for what they are, a part of him. She's been confused more than once about what's a good way of navigating through the situation when the topic is brought up in their conversations. On one hand, she hates the change of expression on his face that makes her feel like winter has returned - even if it's never going to feel to her like how it felt to him, the cruel winter - on the other, she knows he hates it when people walk on eggshells around him.

But now they're all at least half-drunk and merely goofing around. No one's bothered to care about these things, and maybe Napoleon prefers they don't anyway.

"Number 5, hold three ice cubes in your mouth until they melt. Number 4, confess about a fetish you have in front of everyone. Number 2, crack an egg over Number 7's head. Number 1, give me a massage."

"N-Napoleon is a sadist!!"

"So cruel…"

And he's laughing too. Sadistic tendencies aside, his laughter sounds every bit as genuine (and loud) as MC always remembers it to be, and it's strangely soothing. Maybe she should refuse a dare just for the shot, just to drown her worries a little more… Taking a look at her chopstick again because she thinks she heard her number, she sees a 1.

Theo goes somewhere, for ice presumably, despite Sebastian's offer to do it in his stead, and Arthur follows. "Wait, I'll go for the eggs."

"Who got the fetish one?" Napoleon browses the faces of the ones left at the table to spot the flushed one. Vincent raises a hand.

"My fetish is, um… I don't really-"

"Come on Vincent-kun, we all have fetishes~"

"I think I could say… maybe… um.."

"Yes? Go on, say it. We won't judge."

"I'd love it if my partner would touch themselves and let me watch."

"That's perfectly normal, Master Vincent. Nothing to be ashamed of."

"Woah, it's both very vanilla and somehow kinky at the same time..." MC muses out loud. "Oh, but nothing to be ashamed of, certainly!"

Arthur and Theo return, with the latter immediately taking note of Vincent's beet-red face.

"What did I miss? Broer?"

"The fetish dare… Don't worry, Theo, I just had a shot instead."

"Oh, that's good. I mean, no it's not! Napoleon, how dare you make mjin broer take a punishment!"

"It wasn't really- Anyway, Theo, let's shut you up now."

Theo groans, dragging on every move as if giving the ice a chance to melt as much as possible before the inevitable contact with his mouth. At last, there's nowhere to escape and he pops the cubes in his mouth, thankfully they fit.

"Okay, I've been waiting for this. Who gets an egg in the head?"

"It's me… I hate this game…"

Isaac cards his fingers through his strawberry locks, as if for one last time while they're still egg-free. In the meantime, Theo's expression twists, less out of sympathy and more because the ice begins to torture him from the inside out.

"And the executioner?"

"Master Isaac, I'm truly sorry, it's me." Sebastian raises his gloved hand.

"Ahahaha! Haha!" Mozart laughs at the turn of events seeing a servant disserving his master. Or maybe the reason behind his laughter is nowhere that complex. One thing is certain, for some reason, he always gets out of the bunch's drinking games taking no damage in the form of nasty dares and punishments.

Sebastian stands up reluctantly, then sits down again. "Should I just drink? But I have to remind, I can't hold my liquor very well, I'm afraid."

"Just get it over with. I won't be mad at you or anything."

Sebastian sighs to show a little more reluctance before committing the deed. He looks like he's trying to miss his target, but unfortunately the raw egg still perfectly lands on Isaac's head, quickly descending down his face. Isaac's grossed-out expression mirrors Theo's current agony. As someone hands Isaac a handkerchief to wipe off the sticky mess with, another jokingly calls the sight erotic…

"Alright, I'm ready for my massage. Who shall serve the King?"

Napoleon relaxes back in his seat demonstratively in anticipation. It's a bold invitation, and everyone looks up to see the chosen one.

"My king."

MC stands up, showing her chopstick marked with the number 1. She tries to mute the sound of the others' reactions in her head as suddenly her pulse speeds up.

Napoleon flashes her a grin.

"Very well. The King is expecting you."

He lifts his glass to his lips as he hasn't touched it since the beginning of the game, probably deeming it worthless with the nature of the game. Not that he's expecting to be drinking anytime soon - he's simply not the type to back out from any dare unless it's too ridiculous even for him. Maybe that's why he started to miss the warmth at the back of his throat.

As MC makes her way to where he sits, she witnesses the singular bobbing of his Adam's apple when he gulps down the liquid, and she watches dumbstruck for a second as he motions for her to take a sip if she wants to, from the same glass. Well, yes, she finished her own drink a while ago. She accepts the glass from his hold.

"Now, what kind of massage should I request? Hmm…"

Arthur's dirty remarks fall on deaf ears as MC focuses on not choking on the liquid in her mouth.

Napoleon is a giver.

But there's something damn attractive when he allows himself to take from others.

"The king orders you to rub his shoulders."

And it's damn attractive when he's commanding like that. She sees now what the others were referring to in their provocations earlier - it rolls so, so easily off his tongue when he gives an order like this. Even if it's for a stupid game, the sharp look he gives her feels rather… real.

Not that this is anything new to her. For all Napoleon's gentleness, in the bedroom, he has this side of him that colors him rather dominant. And she'd be lying if she said she's gotten so used to it by now she doesn't feel anything between her legs right this moment. Instead of being a liar, she blames it on the alcohol.

Standing behind Napoleon, MC puts her hands on his broad shoulders… and really, it's been a while since she last gave him a massage. Usually, it's the other way around, as Napoleon added it to his ever-growing list of skills, even if initially it was something he'd never done before, given his status in his past life. Now she has his shoulders all to herself to knead and push at, and she catches herself putting selfishness in the act of service. Because she can't help but have impure thoughts.

Napoleon groans. It's quiet but she catches it over the cacophony of other noises in the room coming from the rowdy bunch. They're already setting things up for the next round, and here she's still stuck on her dare. She doesn't want to go back to her seat. Maybe Napoleon can read her thoughts like he always does and offer her his lap for the rest of the night; maybe he will go further and excuse the two of them for the night-

One hand at work, she reaches the other into the cup because they tell her to, and it appears to be Isaac's turn to be King. Good for him, but bad for everyone else. Seems like it's going to be a long night…

Later in the night and a few more rounds down the line, apples have been eaten without hands, glasses have been downed, a few mounts were the targets of unpleasant substances, either deadly spicy or deadly sweet, some clothes have been removed, some eyes filled with tears - and the collective level of soberness in the room has been drastically lowered.

It's a surprise how they even managed to put an end to it before the sun came out when naturally there's always someone who didn't get a chance to take revenge on someone else. Napoleon and Theo, being the best at holding their liquor as per usual, felt it their duty to help the others to their rooms.

MC didn't have much to drink, otherwise she'd be asleep on the pile of residents by now. Not that she intended to retain some of her soberness, it simply happened - because the bubbling feeling in her chest wasn't caused by alcohol, to begin with.

Napoleon, always the caretaker. Maybe if she throws herself at him he'll carry her to her room as well.

"Goodnight, Theo, go get some sleep." The sound of him returning after separating from Theo interrupts her daydreams.

Once he sees he's all alone with MC, he offers her a smile.

"And we're the last ones again. C'mon Nunuche, let's go to our room."

"Carry me?"

MC tries her best puppy-dog eyes at him, and he tests her for a second like it doesn't work on him. He then gawks at her laziness, hoisting her up his shoulder and giving her ass a little spank. "Let's get you to bed, naughty Nunuche. Some of those guys will be mad at you for weeks, you know? But you better not give them those eyes. Only I get to see them."

"Mm…Napoleon?"

The varnished floorboards creak under Napoleon's steps as he makes his way down the hall, holding MC's weight securely. "Yes?"

"Do you really enjoy it? You know, being treated like a majesty."

It's a short trip, and MC's perspective soon goes back to normal as the floor and the walls swap their places once more before her eyes. Not that she's interested in it, so she throws herself at the bed in the next second, sinking in the welcoming embrace of the comforter, not bothering with removing it at least for the time being.

"Pfft, where did that come from?" Napoleon says while closing the door behind him. The crickets are still singing their songs under their window, it can't be that late in the night.

"From the game. For a second I was worried it left a bad taste in your mouth."

"Hmm." Napoleon fake-muses, kicking off his shoes before sinking one knee on the bed. "I think I liked it when you were the one treating me like a majesty."

"No, don't joke, tell me seriously."

"I am serious though."

Somehow they end up in this position that doesn't help resolve the tension poisoning the air around them one bit; with him caging her with his body on the soft mattress and her having nowhere else to look at but right at his penetrating gaze. Her fingers twitch, nails catching into the fabric of the comforter, seeking a sense of stability.

"I just need to know in case…"

"In case what? In case you take it a little too far in role-playing? In case you go down on me and the words mon empereur leave your lips?"

Like a spark to the kerosene pooling low in her belly, Napoleon's words make beautiful explosions bloom behind her eyelids that have fallen shut amidst the last sentence. She takes a breath but it only feeds the fire as she can't help the way her exhale sounds raspy.

"Would you like that?"

"Would you?"

MC bites on her bottom lip. "This is not about me."

"I thought you wanted to serve your King."

She averts her gaze, because if she looks a little longer at this alluring jade gaze that reeks of sex, she'll be able to feel herself losing her composure, and she's trying to have a serious conversation here.

"I do."

"Hmm." Napoleon plays with her, trailing a hand down her modest home dress, prodding at the buttons at the front. "This is bad, I don't know what to ask for first. I've lost shape."

"Liar. You were perfect at it earlier."

"Someone's been paying attention. Were you also fucking me with your eyes? Right there, at the table?"

MC takes two sharp breaths, and it resembles panting, all too soon. It's out of irritation and not arouse, not yet. When she pictured their little game, she thought she'd just have to bow her head obediently and indulge in her desire to serve. Not enduring Napoleon's verbal teasing as any other night.

"Is it that bad? Will my King punish me now as he sees fit?"

Napoleon looks at her. For all the things that may be at the tip of his tongue, MC imagines most vividly the tone Napoleon would speak them in and how much he's cut for the role. Her soul sings at the thought, but it's nothing holy.

"Get up then. Don't you think it's a little rude to be lying down in my presence?"

That's fair. With renewed vigor, she pushes herself off the bed and waits readily by the side of it.

"Remember to not look me in the eyes. It's forbidden. You'll only look when I allow you to, if I allow you to. You'll have to earn my grace."

Instinctively, MC wants her nod to be accompanied by eye contact, but she corrects her mistake before it can even take place.

"Present yourself. Take it all off."

MC blinks surprisedly at how fast things are happening but isn't against it at all. She has the feeling that he is capable of making her do all sorts of dirty things with a mere flick of his tongue, undressing for him is nothing.

She makes a show of it, despite not having many articles of clothing on her to take off seductively - before long, she's stepping out of her dress that has pooled at her feet, and she retakes her previous position.

"I'm pleased with what I'm seeing. Come closer. Kiss me."

He doesn't have to ask twice. It's something familiar and yearned for since they crossed the threshold of their room—hell, no, since they took a seat at the table for that game. It's welcoming and fulfilling and it's just what she needed-

Or so she thought, until she terribly embarrassed herself with a rather awkward and rigid pressing of lips against lips, and no movement. In her selfishness, and out of habit, she left her mouth open for Napoleon's invasion. But she's forgetting to consider that kings get tired of their conquests too.

She summons her boldness and turns the desire in her veins into fuel for action. She shoves her tongue in Napoleon's mouth, but gently, not with the intention to dominate, but rather to serve. To kiss him until he gets enough. Her tongue swirls against his own, the movement rather clumsy, the making out of a juvenile rather than that of a skillful lover… but it's what he wants. He wants to see her seduce him, use every millimeter of her body for his pleasure, and keep going until he has his fill.

A thin string of saliva connects their lips upon her withdrawal, and her eyes are shut tight. She has to keep them shut, otherwise she'll look right at him. Napoleon chuckles.

"You may open them."

She does, and the sight is not kind on her fragile composure. Locking eyes with Napoleon has never felt like this, like a privilege, and exploring this new feeling is exciting.

"You're not half bad with your mouth. Undress me and put it to use."

Heartbeat thumping in her ears, MC finds it impossible to conduct herself in that moment; to sturdy her hands into performing the task and to break her gaze from his piercing pools of jade. She starts with the shirt, more tugging at the buttons rather than precisely undoing them, before pushing it completely off his shoulders, and finally letting it fall to the floor. He's glorious with just his trousers on and that scrutinizing, almost cold gaze. She opens the fly enough to take his hardness out, and her stomach tightens instinctively.

She wets her lips and parts them, taking in the head of his cock, letting it rest on her tongue. Even when her world narrows down to the hot pulsing flesh in her mouth, she catches herself dividing her focus between pleasuring her lover and.. the position she's doing this in. There's a little bit of getting used to it being required, and it makes her realize how unfamiliar that is - her being on her knees, on the hardwood floor, and Napoleon standing upright. When was the last time they've found themselves in that exact arrangement? It could've happened once or twice before, in the heat of the moment, or when the space had limited them. But never intentionally. Not because MC has anything against it - rather, it would be Napoleon who changes the position whether he's about to receive oral. He makes sure he's at least sitting down at the edge of the bed, where MC can rest her hands on his hips, or on the bed. Where he can see her better, to check up on her. Now she has to look up to see him, and he seems so far away, or maybe her eyes are doing tricks on her, or maybe her vision is blurring because she accidentally took his cock too deep down her throat and now tears are gathering in the corners of her eyes.

Napoleon brings his hand over her head and collects a fistful of her hair, one unfamiliar thing after another - but before intimidation can mix into her blood, she breathes in deeply, because it's not him forcing her down his cock, it's him forcing her off it.

He holds his cock firmly by the base as he directs it at her parted lips again, but doesn't breach the gap between them. He simply rubs his cockhead on the soft cushion of them, gathering the saliva that starts to droll down and smearing it back on her lips.

"A pretty mouth indeed."

MC can only look at him. She looks at him like she's looking straight at an open flame.

"Next," Napoleon begins, cupping her chin and caressing with his thumb where his cock used to be just a second ago. "I want you to go on the bed and show me the position you want to be taken in. Can you do that for your King?"

MC finally averts her gaze; it happens involuntarily, purely as a reaction to another surge of surprise and embarrassment.

"I— Yes, my King."

Napoleon angles her chin up, a signal for her to rise to her feet. Yes, that would be a good start.

The bed is just two steps away from where she is but MC feels like she can trip thrice on the way there with how much her legs have turned to jelly. Still, she makes it. There's not much room for thinking this through, for deciding on what would work out best for both of them - normally it's him who takes these decisions, anyway - so once she leans forward on the bed, she gives way to impulsivity and the way it saves her from having to give it any more thought. If she has to name the reason, it would be that it aligns with everything that Napoleon is tonight. Of course it would be fitting if he were to take her on her hands and knees.

"Does this… please you?"

She hears the rustling of clothes behind her back, probably the sound of Napoleon getting rid of his trousers, before he approaches her. He doesn't say anything about approving the position or not, and MC can't decide if his silence is worse. He comes to stand right behind her, and she crawls a little closer to the edge of the bed to make sure their skin is touching. Napoleon lets one hand roam from the fold of her knee up to the curve of her butt, and MC jumps lightly at the touch. Needless to say, she's sensitive and oh-so neglected. Her insides throb at the mere proximity of Napoleon's slender fingers close to her sex - it's a miracle she doesn't come undone on the spot as he actually directs his touch to the apex of her thighs. Wetness catches on his fingertips and he wastes little time caressing her folds before plunging two fingers inside.

"Nnghhh…" MC tosses her head, trying her best to enjoy the feeling of finally, finally claiming some pleasure but without losing herself completely in it. Napoleon twists his fingers until his open palm is facing upwards, thrusts in and out a few times in a way that doesn't intend to bring pleasure but rather to prepare - and then his fingers audibly and briskly exit her wetness.

MC whines at the loss of his fingers but finds a new fire sparkled to life inside her, and she's more than happy she wouldn't have to wait any longer for the next dose of intoxicating pleasure.

"Good girl. Do you want my cock?" Napoleon asks, openly and greedy. He's not risking having her beat around the bush by posing a more generic question like what she wants next. They both know the answer to that already.

Not that he spares her the torturous reminder of what she'll get by saying the right thing. He rubs his flushed tip on her glistening folds, pressing it in enough to just barely catch on her entrance; to make her bite her tongue and assume he just might show mercy and put it in without her pleading for it.

"I- Yes, please, Napoleon— take me, fuck me! Please…"

She only realizes once it slips out that she used his name and not the object of their little game of pretend that is his title, but there's no going back.

Napoleon doesn't punish her for it. Instead, he rewards her, giving her what she wants most. The groan he lets out as the familiar warmth and tightness enfolds his aching cock is telling of his own desperation.

MC cries out at the intrusion, only now understanding the difference of not having him finger her for longer prior to this. It doesn't hurt - she just feels a little fuller somehow. A little on edge. He gives her time to adjust, however, and she just basks into this dangerous feeling for as long as it's there until he carefully withdraws only to give it another thrust.

"Ahh!" Her insides squeeze around Napoleon again, as he goes in deeper this time. She blames the position, trying to reason out why she feels him in her guts. Napoleon withdraws again, and then pushes in, trying to fit even more of himself inside.

"You're taking me so well. I'm so deep inside you, I bet you can feel me in your deepest parts."

She groans at his words and their truthfulness as his thrusts grow rhythmic, the place where they're connected burning with the delightful friction, and her arms soon give out. She buries her head between her hands, enduring the change of angle as her rear sticks out, and Napoleon keeps pounding at her. His own sounds of pleasure are barely masked by the sounds of skin on skin, but he's not hiding them either. He lets her know how good she's making him feel, telling her something dirty in a low voice that she can barely register over the drumming in her ears.

"You feel so good- merde- Ngh. I want to stay inside you forever."

He's always holding her tightly when he fucks her, his grip being strong enough to leave marks the following day, but there's something about the way he takes hold of her hips now. At first, MC thinks nothing of it, lost in euphoric pleasure. It's only when she feels her knees being lifted off the bed that she understands what's happening.

Napoleon rises up her bottom to meet his hips, in his standing upright position, taking full control of her body in that moment. He's so strong, making it all seem effortless; and it's not a matter of matching his thrusts anymore - she can't do anything. She's facing away, with one pair of limbs immobilized and the other grasping uselessly for purchase at the covers. Her whole body rocks back and forth, feeling like a ragdoll in Napoleon's arms. There's something primal and simultaneously embarrassing about how good it feels to give herself over to him like that; about the trust she puts in him to have her completely at his mercy.

And then Napoleon stills inside her. And he groans. And before she knows it, a warm spray of come hits her walls. Her eyes widen, only now realizing they've already been going at it for a while, for a while enough that he seemingly couldn't hold back and—

And maybe he just didn't feel like waiting for her to come before he does.

The realization makes her dizzy in an unexplainable way, and she moans so loudly she feels herself pathetically falling into that bottomless fit, just like that, just as Napoleon takes his cock out of her. It's petrifying, coming without him inside her, but strangely the pleasure never ceases. His hand finds his way between her quivering thighs and shoves them apart in a quick manner, beginning to rub at her clit; whispering praises against the skin of her nape, enveloping her smaller body with his own from behind as she presses into the bed so violently, chasing after her peak.

"Come for me. Come for me and scream my name."

And that's enough to tip her over the edge. Coming with Napoleon's load inside her intensifies the feeling; the way her insides are still remembering his shape, the way she's so full yet so empty. It makes her see stars.

"Napoleon— Ahhhhh!!"

"I'm here. I'm here, mon amour."

Napoleon holds her trembling form as he draws out the last of her high, gently moving her into a spooning position. He keeps touching her everywhere, her belly, her breasts, the curve of her shoulder, caressing all the spots that went unloved in their game.

"I felt— so good I thought I might die—"

Napoleon huffs out a breathy chuckle, and it tickles the babyhairs at the base of her neck.

"I'd be lying if I said this doesn't stroke my ego, Nunuche.", he whispers, and it's somehow more shiver-inducing than anything he's said that night. "I think you might be right. I might be enjoying myself a bit too much when I'm calling the shots."

MC turns her neck just enough to look at him from the corner of her eye. She studies him again, with his disheveled hair and boyish smile and his low tolerance of putting up a front now that he gave voice to his most basic instinct and let it rob him of the ability to give anything more thought than he needs to. She leans in for a kiss and he takes the initiative enthusiastically but ends up drawing it out to make the remaining endorphins dance slowly between their bodies.

Letting the tiredness in her limbs settle in just like the fact that the room is several shades a brighter blue than how they entered it, MC only nuzzles back onto Napoleon's chest, trying not to give voice to the heat between her legs beginning to awake again without a sense of the time.

"And I might just love to see you like that. Mon empereur."

Taglist: @arsnovacadenza @kimi00twin @otomelady @privilegedpancake @g-kleran    @thesirenwashere @ravenarld @devonares @galaxyprison @starshards26 @thewitchofbooks @acethephoenix256 @ikevamp-shrine-2 @nad-zeta @crystal13unny @lordsister @ikemen-banshou   @themysticalbeing @otome-scribbles @rhodolitesrose @coornn @kpop-and-otome @queen-dahlia @kisara-16 @chaosangel767 @ikemenlibrary @queengiuliettafirstlady @aurora-morning ​ @ikemenlover24 @mcofthemansion @joy-the-reader @katriniac @ikemen-writer @tele86 @lovely-bubb1es @aria-chikage @babyblue0t7 @rhodoliteschaos @shrimpy-kitsune @nightghoul381 @xbalayage @lucyw260 @kittygrimm88 @lokis-laugh @judejazza @my-day Let me know if you want to be tagged/untagged!

[theemissuniverse]

“YOU” KUNG LAO X CHUBBY FEM!READER

SUMMARY : no plot really (you’re jealous bc you think kung Lao was flirting with kitana but that’s it) just smut but somebody asked for the kung lao version of “all mine” with Takeda in it and now I can’t find them so yeah here you go

WARNING : MINORS DONT INTERACT! a lot of dirty talk, p in v, backshots (doggy style), a little edging, ass slapping, praise kink, some other stuff I probably forgot

MASTERLIST

By the Gods, you couldn’t be more perfect for Kung Lao. Physically and mentally, you were made for him.

You were mad at him though. You saw him and Kitana talking together and you assumed they were flirting. Kung Lao was showing you that it meant nothing right now.

Kung Lao pounded into you a little harshly as your ass bounced on his dick. You were on all fours and were getting fucked too good.

Lao had actually never been with a thick woman but now he was glad he did. Watching your ass jiggle on his dick as he gave you backshots was more than amazing.

You panted slightly. Kung Lao was relentlessly hitting your spot with no remorse. He knew this too and wasn’t going to let up. You started to run from him.

Kung Lao held you firmly in place by your hips. “It’s going to be worse for you if you run.” He told you before slapping your ass. He watched it jiggle even more and he grunted.

“Lao. Please. It feels too good.”

Kung Lao licked his lips. He ignored your pleas continued to hit it. “Mmm. This is all mine. Nobody else’s.”

“It’s all for you, Lao. Oh shit. God. Please.”

His hands felt all around your ass as he watched it jiggle with each thrust he made. He was about to slow up on you until you started to throw your ass back on him. “Oh my…”

Your ass looked even more good. You swung it in circles on his dick as he fucked you from behind. “Fuck this pussy. It’s all yours baby.”

“Somebody’s trying to get me to cum so soon.” Kung Lao threw his head back in pure bliss. “And it might work.”

You moaned loudly, throwing your ass back on him. “You love when my ass jiggles on you don’t you?”

Kung Lao let out an animalistic grunt at your dirty talk. “I love it so much.”

“You love this pussy don’t you?”

Kung Lao groaned at your words as he could probably cum any second but he was holding it for you. “Yes, baby.” He smacked your ass. “You’re the only one I want.”

“Then fuck me like I’m the only one you want.”

He took that as a challenge. Kung Lao brought you close to him so there wasn’t any space between you two. Then started to fuck you fast and hard.

Your mouth fell open. You cling onto the bedsheets for dear life. He made sure to smack your ass a few times.

Kung Lao noticed you to start run. He held you in place by your hips. “What did I tell you about running? You wanted this so take it.” He moaned as he watched your ass recoil so fast by his pace. He rubbed your ass soothingly despite his fast pace. “You look so good. You think I’d give all this up for another woman?”

You couldn’t even make out words. He hated when you didn’t talk. So as punishment, he slapped your ass but this time harshly. You yelled out at the sudden contact.

“I’m yours, (Y/N). All this is for you. I love you.” He smacked your ass again. “Say it.”

“You’re mine. Oh my god. You’re mine.”

“Remember that the next time you doubt me. Remember how good I’m making you feel.”

“Lao, I’m bout to cum.”

“Me too.” Kung Lao slowed up on his pace a little so he wasn’t hitting your pussy so harshly. “Did you learn your lesson?”

“Yes.” You moaned out.

“What did you learn?”

“That you’re mine and love me. Please just let me cum.”

“Go ahead.”

You and Kung Lao came at the same time. He rode your guy’s orgasms out to the fullest extent. When you were done, he pulled out. He flipped you so you were laying on your back and kissed you. You kissed him back.

Kung Lao pulled away and made you look in his eyes. “Never doubt me again.” All you did was nod and he gave you one sweet kiss on the lips.

TAGGING : @zhivaxo , @sinclxirx , @roseflowerbed12 , @daeneeryss , @blexel

[natsmagi]

tbh you should just sexualize your fem Tsumugi more. I'm talking full on fetish hentai style. Put her in the open boob sweater. Have her accidentally flash while leaning fowards. Have her slip and show pantsu. Full kink with no breaks. Please shut these anons up. People trying to police your creativity like it has some sort of reflection on your morals or beliefs. I also wish you would stop answering them? or at least tagging it as anon hate because it's so sad to keep seeing people be so mean to you over and over when most of us just want to enjoy your big brain takes and drawings. Maybe I'm getting parasocial bc I get so sad seeing people hate on your Tsumugi I love her she's just like me fr!!! All that matters is that you enjoy how you draw her and I hope you don't feel pressured to change your headcanons.

HWEISUHRUHKDHG I SHOULDDDDDDDDD I SHOULD UR RIGHT ive been too prudish as of late. need to be insane again. Tbh ive made some art that was made purely bc i am a freak and insane but i feel like its never the art people would expect it to be. And thats really funny to me. like my more explicit stuff is just drawn for fun But if uve ever looked at a drawing of mine and gone "this seems kind of freakish conceptually even though the execution isnt super weird" Well thats probably bc it actually is freakish. sorry. My suggestive art is usually just for the vibes tho i DID also like. yesterday?? discover a twt acc that will sometimes post various lingerie fits SO!! MAYBE ILL DRAW SOME SOON 💪💪

AND AUGHHH I KNOWWWW in the beginning i thought itd be worth replying to people bc i was like "well this is all kind of niche. im sure they have good intentions so we might aswell talk it out" But as things progress its been made clear thats doing me or anyone else no favors. i love having discussions, so i reply to most of my asks! but i do hope that ive made myself clear enough and that we can all just continue doing our own things im sorry to hear its made you sad though!!!!! rest assured its not something that demotivates me, nor is it something that makes me feel i need to change how i draw. i do what i do because i enjoy it! and i know others enjoy it too! i will never be able to appeal to everyone, and that has never been my goal. i like having fun with others though, which is why i enjoy hearing why others might think differently than me!

but yes! i already feel ive said my piece on the whole discourse thing by now and i hate walking in circles, so even if i get negative asks about it i likely wont answer unless i feel its warranted. but! if that does happen, ill be sure to tag it! you can mute "#discourse tag" ahead of time incase i ever end up using it

[someverygaymoth]

MASTER POST!

Welcome to the Moth Den! This blog is the home of KD!AU, The Retriver Institute, The Horrors in the Wilde, CFK!AU, Skyfall AU, Bugged!Cross(Bug), and plenty of other AUs.

(check out my AU details list here)

It's important to note that I do write proship/dead dove content, and as a psych enthusiast, I believe exploring darkness through fiction can be a positive and safe experience! So, hopefully there's no confusion there. There's a list of what I am comfortable writing about vs not below the cutoff. (That is why I focus heavily on tagging all of my works adequately, and all of my posts! So that you can block keywords you don't want popping up on your timeline, and you —hopefully— never have to run into anything you don't want to see on my page!)

Two quick rules!

1. We're a SFW blog here, so when I do get our asks set up, please keep everything rated E to PG-13, alright?

2. I personally do not care what people write or draw as long as they're keeping things safe and having fun. Don't bring silly conflicts about what people write or draw onto my blog. (I'm referring to proship/antiship arguments) Thank you!

Links↓↓ and about me↓↓

And a quick note, I do not currently take drawing or writing requests, but I do take suggestions. If you would like to suggest something to draw, I do not guarantee that even if I respond I will do said suggestion or finish it if I do start it. But please feel free to ask questions about my AUs and the characters within them!

Here's the link to our SFW Discord, make sure to be kind and pay attention to the rules!

You can find me on AO3 at Some_VeryGayMoth, although not everything on there is SFW, so navigate with care!

And on Twitter, where I never post, @TgayMoth

Please make sure to take care of yourself and pay attention to tags on any of my writing, or any writing in general. If you see something you do not want to see, don't click on it. Tumblr does indeed have a keyword filter, and I will always do my best to use keywords in my posts, so if you do not know how to set up your keyword filter with the things you don't want to see on your timeline, I would highly recommend you check out this link on YouTube that will show you exactly how to do that!

Now that I've mentioned keyword filters— here's what I write vs don't write!

I write angst, violence, hurt/comfort, gore, all that good stuff.

I've written twincest(shout-out to Dreammare)(not defending this one at all, this was whore activity, and honestly if you're shipping this while riding on the technicality that they're not really brothers you have some shit to sort out because homie this is still just twincest, but I do question whether this counts as twincest due to them being one spirit split in two and popped out of a tree, so like, take that as you will)

I'm not comfortable writing any parent/child stuff but no shade if you do, I usually don't like any OG fontcest stuff either it's just hard for me to digest but again no shade.

I've written stuff about anxiety, depression, schizophrenia, disability, all sorts of trauma, lots of that.

I won't talk about the kinks I write and don't write on here but oh readers there are many yesses, maybes, and hard nos to be found there, I assure you. And again, write or read, no shade.

Uhh honestly I think that's all I have, which is kinda L, maybe I need to step up my dark fiction game if this is all I've got. (It can get so much worse and istg I will write worse stuff to spite anyone who's tossing around hate like it's confetti. And I'll tag it properly so they don't have to see it if it makes them uncomfortable. I'm just cool like that.)

(Oh btw if you're not tagging your stuff properly or make a fuss about tagging things when someone tells you that you didn't tag something properly, you and me ain't cool. Nothing about that is okay. I will never fuss about someone asking me to add a tag, if I EVER miss something please tell me, I will happily add tags for you and keep them in mind for next time.)

About me↓↓

I have been writing for about four and a half years now for the fandom, and I've been here since about the very beginning. I started posting my writing back in early 2021. It's been so wonderful to see this fandom grow and change, blossoming with many fun aus and beautiful ideas, and I hope I can contribute to many more beautiful ideas on my little corner of the internet.

I have some physical health problems that may make it difficult for me to post more regularly, but I will do my best!

[kbrick]

Smutty Scenes

Thank you @thehoneybeet for the tag! See honeybeet’s drool-worthy excerpts here.

Rules: pick any ten eleven fics, select some smut or pre-smut dialogue, and tag ten people. If you have written less than ten, feel free to share anyway!

In looking through my own smut, I’ve learned some things about myself: 1) my characters talk a lot during sex. like seriously, shut up for a sec you guys; 2) I like writing hate sex; 3) I have a very obvious voyeurism kink that I was utterly unaware of until I created this post 😂

Below the cut, it’s all smut. So stop reading unless you want to read sex stuff.

CW: SEX. Some roughness, nothing too bad.

Running Mate (office sex, wanking, voyeurism)

Draco’s eyes fell to Harry’s prick. “I was stopping by to pick up some papers I’d forgotten,” he said, his eyes flickering back up to meet Harry’s. “And here you are, in my office, alone. And you’ve got your prick out. And you’ve…” he looked over his desk. “Put a post-it over Hermione’s face, have you?”

Harry put his head in his hands and started laughing. “Fucking hell, I can’t look you in the eye,” he managed. “I’m mortified.” He was, too. It should’ve been hot; in a porno, this definitely would’ve been hot, but it was actually the most embarrassing thing he’d ever experienced in his life, and that was really saying something. The post-it took the humiliation to a whole new level, too. He could feel his erection wilting.

He felt Draco’s hands on his, and let him pull them away from his face, and then Draco’s fingertips cupped his chin, tilting his face up slightly.  “I want you to keep touching yourself,” Draco said softly.  “Let me see.”

Harry swallowed, his throat feeling full. “I – what?”

“First, pull your trousers down. I can hardly see any of you,” Draco said, leaning back once more against the desk.

“I didn’t want to take them off all the way – I was worried I’d be caught –” Harry stammered.

“Little late for that, isn’t it?”

The Matchmaker’s Spell (extra-hate-y hate sex)

Potter grinned down at him, predatory and feral, then licked a stripe over his throat. “Fuck, the taste of you, Malfoy.”

Draco was moving his prick against Potter’s thigh now; too worked up to resist it. “You like it, yeah? Show me.”

Potter nipped at his shoulder, then kissed a line down his chest. Draco leaned back on his hands, his eyes fluttering closed. Potter licked over the head of his prick and he nearly screamed, but then Potter’s mouth was back up near his.

“What the fuck?” Draco cried.

“What the fuck what?” Potter asked, pinching his nipple and kissing his mouth.

“Why’d you fucking stop?”

“Because you don’t want that, remember? You just want it over with.”

“You hateful cocksucker.”

“I haven’t sucked your cock, sweetheart. Because you haven’t asked nicely.”

Draco growled. “You’re mad if you think I’m going to beg you for head.”

“I don’t think that. I know Draco Malfoy doesn’t beg. He doesn’t care enough to beg, or even ask at all,” Potter said, suddenly serious. He kissed Draco again, hard, his tongue hot, and Draco was wrapping his legs around Potter’s waist and rutting up against him, like a whore. Like a fucking whore. He hated Potter so much in that moment that it almost felt like love.

In Free Fall (outdoor sex, blowjob)

“Harry, what if somebody sees?”

“Don’t care,” he says, stroking my cock and gazing up at me. Then, with absolute confidence, he lowers his mouth and licks a firm line along the underside of my shaft.

I feel my hips move, my knees buckle. “Fuck,” I gasp.

“God, you’re gorgeous” he says, his eyes shamelessly meeting mine as he twirls his tongue around the tip, then drags it along my slit, pushing in just a little, making me shudder. “Have I told you?”

“No,” I whisper.

“I’ve thought about doing this for so long. Sucking you. Wanked to thoughts of it for as long as I can remember.”

I press a hand over my mouth and moan behind it, and he takes me down to the root, his nose pressing against my stomach. He bobs up and down on me for a moment, his cheeks hollowed out, his tongue pressing up against the underside of my cock, and he’s much too good at this, much better than I am.

Night Magic (dual wanking, voyeurism)

Then, without meaning to, he heard himself let out a low, quiet groan.

He stilled, and watched, dizzy, as Harry’s eyes opened, shining impossibly bright in the moonlit room. They met his head-on, and he stared as Harry registered what was happening, what Draco was doing, had been doing, and then…

And then he didn’t stop. He didn’t stop, he just kept at it, kept moving his hand firmly along his cock, kept fucking himself on his own fingers, kept panting, louder now, and shaking. But now he was doing it with his eyes locked on Draco’s, and his eyes were hot and terrible and full of want.

Draco began to move again, faster and harder, let himself feel all of it, pleasure trilling up and down his spine, as he stared into Harry’s green eyes. He let out a whine, anguished and needy, and saw Harry shudder.

Harry Potter and the Great Cat Caper (topping from the bottom)

After a moment, he sat up and Harry watched, entranced, as he pressed a finger into his hole, blatantly, luridly, so that Harry could see everything, and Harry’s cock, so hard and leaking already, twitched painfully at the sight of it, and at the sound of Malfoy’s moan as he fucked into himself with one finger and then two.

Harry went to pull at his own cock – it needed to be touched so badly - but Malfoy held him off, grabbing his wrist tight. “No,” he said roughly, still moving against his own hand. “That’s for me.”

Harry felt his stomach dip at the words, aching in anticipation, and then Malfoy was lifting up and positioning himself above Harry. Harry could hardly breathe as he felt Malfoy take him in hand and line him up against his hole. Malfoy looked at Harry as he very deliberately lowered himself onto Harry’s cock, and when Harry’s eyes closed at the sensation ripping through him, Malfoy grabbed his chin. “Look at me,” he said, his voice low and soft. ”I don’t want you to forget, even for a moment, who it is making you feel this way.”

Harry stared up at him as he started to move, a slow, languorous rhythm, his eyes hot on Harry’s. Harry could feel every long, endless drag of muscle against his cock ricocheting up his body and back down again, pinpricks of pleasure blooming in his skull and low in his belly. His heart was beating wildly, his breath coming in rough bursts.

He ran his hands over Malfoy’s thighs, his hips, enchanted by the look of him, by the way he moved like a snake through the grasses, hunting and hungry. He pressed his hands over the flowers blooming in a curve along Malfoy’s hips, then up, up, up, to Malfoy’s mouth.

Malfoy took Harry’s hand and let Harry push a finger into his mouth, and it was so hot and soft and wet. “What do I taste like today,” Harry asked, his voice raw.

Malfoy pulled off of Harry’s finger and smirked. “Like me. Like my sweat. Like my come.”

The Things We Need (voyeurism, gangbang)

And then they started touching him – a hand on his back, his arse, his cheek. When someone slid a finger into him, I gasped like it was me they were touching.

“You want something in your mouth, too?” I heard one of them say, and Draco’s mouth opened without question.

“Answer me,” said the man.

“Yes, please,” Draco said before letting out a high-pitched whine as someone else began to fuck him.

“You sound like a posh little princess, don’t you? A high-class whore,” the man said, and Draco only moaned and opened his mouth again.

Soon, his mouth was full of cock and he was getting fucked from behind, and I was watching in a daze. He let them come down his throat and in his arse, taking turns, new ones coming in every so often, a sea of bare skin in all different shades milling around him, talking about him like he wasn’t even there – ‘desperate for it, isn’t he?’ ‘takes cock like he was born to do it’ and ‘need to open him up wider, yeah?’.

The Remnant (sex while Harry is possessed by a demonic entity)

A calloused hand covered his mouth, and suddenly Potter was sitting astride him, clad only in a pair of navy briefs. His face came close to Draco’s and he smelled like Draco’s shampoo. “Oh, Draco, the things I’m going to do to you,” he said softly, his breath tickling Draco’s skin. Draco shuddered underneath him.

“Look at you, and all I’ve done is whisper a little something in your ear,” Potter said, chuckling. “Dra-a-aco-o-o.” He drew the name out, letting the vowels hover for too long. Then he lunged and bit, his teeth digging into the sensitive skin below Draco’s ear. Draco let out a yelp from behind the hand that still covered his mouth.

“Too hard? I can be gentle, for a while.” Then there was a kiss where the bite had been, and Draco found himself moaning and arching up, his aching cock seeking friction.

Another chuckle. “You’re almost too easy. You’re lucky I like that.” The hand fell away.

“Potter, what are you doing?” Draco hissed.

“What does it look like?” The blanket that covered him was being pulled down even though Potter wasn’t pulling it; Potter’s hands were still near Draco’s face. Potter spared a glance downward and started laughing, low, and sweet and sticky like honey.

“What?”

“So easy,” Potter said, reaching down for Draco’s cock, which was already painfully hard. “Not even a little bit of cotton on you? I think you might’ve been waiting for me.”

Song For the Dumped (desk sex, banter)

“Maybe I like to torture you,” Potter said, deliberately brushing his fingers over Draco’s prostate once again.

“Please,” Draco said. He was a proud bastard, but he needed to be fucked or he was going to die. Just keel over, right here. “Fucking hell, please.”

“Pull yourself open for me,” Potter said, kissing his back again.

Draco reached behind himself and spread his cheeks and Potter groaned. “Fuck, you look good. How do you even do that? How are you so fucking smooth?”

“My god, Potter. You git. I’m a wizard. How do you think?”

Potter shoved his fingers back in. “Be nice, or I’ll just do this all night.”

“You wouldn’t dare,” Draco said.

“Try me,” said Potter.

Tapestry (jealousy, bathroom sex)

“Are you fucking him?” Potter asked.

Draco swallowed thickly. To lie or not to lie? Or continue playing coy? Although, Draco got the feeling that if he shrugged again, Potter might punch him in the face. “No. Not yet.”

“But you want to, do you?” Potter asked, leaning even closer, settling his hands on either side of Draco on the marble ledge of the sink. “Let me ask you this: do you think he’s up to the task? Because I don’t. I think he’ll be too gentle with you. He won’t know what you want. He won’t know what you need.”

Draco’s breath was coming fast now, his heart galloping in his chest. “And you think that you do?"

Potter’s mouth was at his ear. “You know I do.”

Draco Malfoy, Serial Wanker (wanking, voyeurism)

“I – I don’t know. I like that you’re watching me.”

“You like being watched, do you?"

“Yeah,” Draco breathed.

“God, you look good doing that,” Potter whispered, and Draco made a little whining sound in his throat, needy and pathetic.

“Stroke yourself, yeah?" Potter's fingertips moved down to Draco's thigh. "I’d like to see you come. Can I see you come?”

Draco managed to open his eyes. He felt drunk. “Yes,” he said.

I’m in Love With a Stripper (dirty talk, insecurity)

“You want me, too.”

“Yes.”

“You’ve wanted me all this time.”

“Yes. Yes.”

“You’ve thought about it. You’ve dreamt of it. You’ve fingered yourself thinking of me. You’ve come into your own hand calling out my name.”

“Yes, yes, goddamn you.” Draco bit at Harry’s lip, hard enough to draw blood, and his eyes were fixed on Harry’s, enormous and glowing silver in the moonlight.

“Tell me,” Harry said, reaching down between his legs.

“I’ve – mmf – I think about you all the time. Every time. When Dominic fucks me I pretend it’s you. I ride my own fingers and imagine it’s your cock –” He stopped and let out a groan as Harry pulled down his jeans and his pants and freed his prick. “It’s always you, it’s always you in my head. I can’t ever be rid of you. You’re always there.”

Harry got his fingers slick with a wandless lubrication spell and then he was pushing in, into the heat of Draco, and Draco was throwing his head back and crying out. “Tell me,” Harry said again. “Tell me what you think about.”

“Your cock, Harry. Your cock and your hands and your mouth. I think of them on me and in me; everywhere. I think about you coming in me, all over me. I think about tasting your cock. God, I think about it all the time.”

“When Dominic fucks you.”

“Yes, oh my god, yes,” He arched up and bore down, thrusting himself against Harry’s fingers. “Every time. Every single time.”

“You never think of anyone else.”

“Always you, Harry, always,” He panted, squeezing his eyes shut. He let out a guttural cry as Harry added another finger. “You’re the only one who’s fucked me since I was seventeen. Every time.”

Tagging @tackytigerfic @lqtraintracks @lettersbyelise @shealwaysreads @sweet-s0rr0w @ghaniblue @writcraft @phoebe-delia @saxamophone @gracerene @skeptiquewrites @oknowkiss PLEASE GIVE ME YOUR BEST SMUT, I NEED IT (but only if you want to and have time 💕)

[holylulusworld]

The strongest - Kinktober 22

Summary: Strength is just your thing.

Rating: Mature

Pairing: Dean Winchester x fem!Reader

Kink: Strength kink

Warnings: ogling, I mean, shamless ogling, implied smut, cocky Dean

A/N: A short and naughty drabble.

Kinktober 2022

Dean does it again. He stretches his arms over his head and flexes his muscles.

It’s pure torture to watch his brawny shoulders and thick biceps do their work.

He’s so fucking strong. Dean could easily overpower you. He could hold you down and fuck you into submission. How much you wish he would put his hands on you.

Right now, he wants to lift a few heavy boxes to carry them toward the storage room.

You decided on always having enough canned food and water at the bunker.

You never know when the next apocalypse knocks at your door, or you are too lazy to go for a grocery run. Whatever happens first.

“Did you hear me?” Sam asks as you try not to drool on your shirt while watching your friend.

Dean is breathing proof that Chuck did one or two things right. Even if he was a complete douche. He made Dean Winchester.

“Y/N?” you lick your lips as Dean lifts the first box. His biceps flex. You whimper. His shoulders roll. You whine. “Earth to Y/N.”

“What?” you love Sam like a brother, but right now you’d like to kick his ass. You hate that you must take your eyes off Dean to look at his brother.

“I asked if you are done with the book, Y/N.”

“Yeah. I’m good.”

You shove the book toward Sam to go back to your favorite show. Dean Winchester. Live and in color. 

“Sweetheart, do we need so much water?” Dean cocks his head to look at you. He smirks as he caught you staring at him again. “Y/N. The water.”

“Sam and I got lots of beer for you too, Dean. Don’t you worry,” you wink at Dean. “We can’t leave you at the bunker without beer.”

“You’re too good to me, sweetheart,” you chuckle as Dean gives you a loop-sided grin. “If you make me some pie, I might marry you.”

“You are a bad liar Winchester. What if I keep you up on that promise?” he smirks now.

“I’ll keep my word,” he turns his attention back toward the boxes. And you. Well, you go back to watching Dean.

He easily lifts the next box and you imagine it’s you.

“So strong,” you whisper under your breath. “He could break me into two halves without any effort. I just know it.”

Sam looks up from his book, “what are you mumbling all the time, Y/N?”

“It’s nothing. Sorry.”

How can you tell Sam that you get very horny when you only see his brother flex his muscles or lift heavy stuff.

Or even worse, win a fight with one of the creatures lurking in the dark.

You could cum at once seeing the strength and power in Dean.

“Fuck.”

“Did you say something?”

Dropping your eyes to the ground you wiggle and shift on your seat and press your thighs together. You whimper as it’s just the right amount of friction to give you a little release.  

“Just a little more.”

“Sweetheart, you look a little busy over there, but can you lend me a hand?” right, when you can reach the peak Dean, steals your high. He smirks as you reluctantly get up from your chair. “Can you help me lift this one? It’s pretty heavy.”

“Sure,” you lick your lips. Having the chance to watch Dean lift heavy stuff up-close is even better. “What can I do?”

“Just watch me lift the heavy stuff.”

You stare at Dean; mouth agape.

While you were watching him, Dean was watching you.

Ever the observant hunter, he realized a long time ago that you like watching him. Especially when he shows off his strength.

“Uh-“ you bite your tongue. What can you say? That you didn’t watch him the whole time, and that your panties are not soaked?

“Maybe I can help you out with your problem later, too,” Dean looks you straight in the eyes. He flashes you a cocky grin, as he flexes his biceps on purpose. “You know that I love to help people, sweetheart.”

You release a shuddery breath. “T-hat would be great.”

Dean knows exactly what you need, and he will give it to you. All. Night. Long…

Tags in reblog.

[elvensorceress]

temptation Tuesday

a million thanks and kudos to @honestlydarkprincess for this tag game! 💕 

rules: share something about an idea you have/something that's speaking to you/an au you'd like to see and are considering writing/etc. etc. basically anything that is tempting you away from your current wips!

also tagged by beloveds, @alyxmastershipper @fatedbuddie @jobairdxx @cowboy-buddie @hippolotamus @fleurdebeton @rogerzsteven @megsvstheworld 😘💕

tagging @gayedmundodiaz @spotsandsocks @shortsighted-owl @wh0re-behavi0r @mysteriouslyyounggalaxy @gayhoediaz @ashavahishta @littlespoonevan @rewritetheending and anyone else who wants to play 💕

1) So last year I got to see the musical version of Pretty Woman, and ever since I’ve been wanting to write a Buddie AU because every fandom needs at least a few Pretty Woman AUs, right? Who doesn’t love the “fake relationship / we fell in love while having casual sex” trope? Plus sad brooding workaholic!Eddie who gets brought out of his shell by vibrant sweet silly!Buck is just 🥰🥰🥰

2) There’s a trans/genderqueer Eddie fic percolating in my head where he realizes he’s always hated/been trapped by expectations of “being a man” especially where romantic relationships are concerned, and he starts to connect it to “maybe I don’t feel like I’m actually a man, it’s just what I’ve always been told and what was expected of me,” and then it leads to him exploring gender identities and connecting more with being feminine/non-binary and breaking free of the performance of masculinity and toxic traits that were engrained in him. 

3) idk but the fandom seems to be on a Buddie breeding kink kick, and that would definitely be fun. 👀 May or may not have Thoughts about it. Maybe maybe. It would go hardcore into the whole idea and lots of things that go along with it though that I don’t think I’ve seen or read about but are associated. How’s that for vague lol 

4) Someone may have messaged me about writing some superangst and pining!Eddie whump where either Eddie is trapped and dying and finally confesses his love to Buck while Buck loses it and can’t help him OR Eddie tries a few times to tell Buck of his feelings and even goes so far to bring him flowers, which Buck immediately thinks were sent by Natalia because they’d been talking about flower meanings so Buck has to call her and thank her immediately, so Eddie leaves and gets into a car accident and Buck gets called to pick up Christopher since Eddie never showed. And then they find out that Eddie is hospitalized, on life support. And at some point Buck asks why Eddie didn’t just say the flowers were from him, while Eddie says, you didn’t want them to be from me. All that fun stuff? 🫠 idk how we fix it. I just do angst. *shrug emoji*

5) Alternate part 3 to Orpheus/Eurydice series where Eddie has to climb the ladder and save Buck from death and bring him home. Because obviously. 

💕💕💕💕

[spicedrobot]

20 questions for fic writers

I was tagged by @bluedaddysgirl! Sorry this took so long. ;;

I'll tag: @withercrown @a-aristippus @lacertae-dreamscape @aevallare @loveoaths @kevystel @frogunderarock @wolveria @dreaminghour @bright-thorn @kitewithfish

And anyone else who wants an excuse to do this please tag me I'd love to read your answers!! 🥺💖💖💖

1. How many works do you have on AO3?

134.

2. What's your total A03 word count?

444,065

3. What fandoms do you write for?

I started my writing days in Overwatch and most of my fics are from that era, but most recently, I've written for Star Wars, Baldur's Gate 3 and Arcane.

4. What are your top five fics by kudos?

A New Era - First Jayvik fic I wrote, and somehow it's at the top of the jayvik ao3 tag by kudos even though it's mindrot I wrote between episode breaks. Sorry long form jayvik writers ;;

Lost Time - life-affirming jayvik sex after the s1 finale. I'm just now realizing that all my top kudos fics are jayvik LMAO

Opposites - jayvik fic where someone talks up Viktor at a party and Jayce gets jealous.

Arcane Ficlets - my randomly assorted Arcane stuff I wrote via tumblr asks. All jayvik too 😂

Warm Heart - Viktor has cold hands but Jayce knows just how to warm him up.

5. Do you respond to comments? Why or why not?

I try to! But sometimes it takes me months to get back to people. Once the inbox number ticks up I get a little nervous ;; which only makes the problem worse!

6. What's the fic you wrote with the angstiest ending?

I tend not to write anything that ends too angsty. I have one or two that have a sort of bad-end vibe. Usually I'll write an angsty ending then delete and rewrite. LOL

Maybe this silco/viktor fic: Back Down? Since Viktor knows he shouldn't be messing around with Silco but he's so drawn to him.

Runner up: one of my ramyatta fics Stargazing because it shows the difference between their past relationship and the present at the end, where they are no longer together. t _ t

7. What's the fic you wrote with the happiest ending?

Probably Encore, since I wrote it because Outer Wilds canon endings beat me up so badly. LOL

8. Do you get hate on fics?

Very rarely!

9. Do you write smut? If so, what kind?

Almost always. Any kind, basically. LOL I love pining and unestablished relationship like crazy, and both characters just falling into sex with each other. Blow jobs, possessiveness, breeding kinks, ritualistic sex, size difference, voyeurism, smell stuff, sex pollen, outfits... a VERY wide range. 😂

10. Do you write crossovers? What's the craziest one you've written?

I almost never write them. I think I have written a few fics that just takes characters and puts them into another game's setting, but that's about it.

11. Have you ever had a fic stolen?

Not that I know of?

12. Have you ever had a fic translated?

Yes! Most I had one of my ramyatta fics translated into chinese. I've also had my only symbrock fic made into a podfic.

13. Have you ever co-written a fic before?

Not really. I've done a fic with bluedaddysgirl that was Thrawn/Cad Bane, but mostly I collaborate with artists to do illustrations of my work. I did some RPing back in the day, but none of that's going to see the light of day LOL

14. What's your all-time favorite ship?

Probably genyatta? But honestly, I have so so many. Obimaul also has a special place in my heart.

15. What's the WIP you want to finish but doubt you ever will?

My last year's nanofic. It was an AU where Bo-Katan never saved Obi-Wan from Mandalore, so he remained Maul's prisoner. It was going to be a what if where Maul realizes he doesn't know what to do with Obi-Wan now that he's finally exacted his revenge, and they would slowly fall in love while doing powerplays the whole time. LOL It was a bit weird because I had to write it so fast, so a lot of the fic was just Savage and Obi-Wan interacting, so it almost made it seem as if they would be the better pairing TBH. It just needs so much reworking and IDK if I have the power. It probably just needs an entire re-write.

16. What are your writing strengths?

I feel I'm very good at condensing ideas into short word counts. I also think my sex scene writing, specifically my dirty talk, is pretty good! That's one of those things that I can't stand to read if it's bad in fanfic, so I try to make what they say as in character as I can. 😳

17. What are your writing weaknesses?

Writing anything longer holy shit. I'm really terrible at it because as soon as I have to deal with pacing it's a death sentence for my motivation. 💀💀💀

18. Thoughts on writing dialogue in another language for a fic?

It can be done well? But only if you are a fluent speaker. I personally don't do it because I'm an idiot who only knows one language, and I don't want to mess up the mood of writing by accidentally making an embarrassing gaff in another language.

19. First fandom you wrote for?

In my life? Probably Kingdom Hearts. On my ao3 account: Dragon Age: Inquisition.

20. Favorite fic you've ever written?

Definitely Polite Company, my Obimaul reverse AU fic. It's the longest thing I've ever written and posted. SUCH a comfort fic to me, and it was a blast to work on. There's just something so fun about writing Jedi Maul that I still can't get over it. The ideas kept coming for that fic which almost never happens for me, and somehow it was fairly well received, which I'm just so ridiculously grateful for. I'm always surprised at how much Obimaul isn't a main pairing for Obi-Wan when they have such ridiculous chemistry. Not even 600 fics on all of ao3 for them💀💀💀 A crime!!

[ilsanslut]

VAMPIIE'S RULES!

𖥻 do: give me enough information in your requests so that i can write what you desire efficiently. also, the more detail the better, please! go in-depth with the kinks you want, the scenario, the setting, gender, etc! limited to only 4 characters per ask.

example: "can you make a possessive ryusei shidou (c.ai/j.ai) bot who gets jealous over your interactions over sae itoshi? can you also include degradation and dubcon?" etc. etc. example: "can you write a sukuna imagine that takes place during the heian period where you were gifted to him as a concubine? can you also include degradation and corruption? also gender neutral, please!" etc. etc.

𖥻 do: keep in mind that i am only writing for the following fandoms at the current time. if you do not see a fandom listed here, i am sorry but i will not write for them.

♰ blue lock ♰ jujutsu kaisen ♰ tokyo revengers ♰ attack on titan ♰ demon slayer ♰ haikyuu ♰ my hero academia ♰ genshin impact ♰ honkai star rail ♰ apex legends ♰ overwatch

𖥻 do: keep in mind that i am entitled to curating my own safe space and if you invade it in any way with disrespect/break my rules, your ask will be deleted promptly and you will be blocked. this also means that certain characters will not be written for if i do not like/am not comfortable with the characters.

𖥻 do: keep in mind that i am NOT A SPOILER FREE blog. if you have reviewed my fandoms in my "about" section, chances are that i will reblog manga/game/show spoilers at any time.

𖥻 do: remember that i am human just like you all (i hope), and sometimes asks will tend to overwhelm me. just remember that it may take some time to answer your requests on time. DO NOT RUSH ME. I WILL DELETE YOUR REQUEST.

𖥻 do NOT: interact with me/my blog if you are under 18, are racist, transphobic, homophobic, hateful towards any minority group in any way, map/p3do, wlw/mlm fetishizer, trump supporter.

𖥻 do NOT: SHARE MY WORK OUTSIDE OF TUMBLR ESPECIALLY ON TIKTOK. please, respect my wishes. i understand if some of you may be coming from a place of good faith, a majority of the people who will view your stuff will NOT and it usually does not end up well for creators in the end.

𖥻 do NOT: involve me in drama. leave it at the door before interacting with me. i'm here to write, i don't care what ittostoesucker said about ryuseiscumslut. in simpler terms, everything is up for discussion, just not with me.

𖥻 what i will NOT write : hard incest, scat, vore, underage, vomit, characterxcharacter, self-harm, characterxoc, ddlg/mdlb, hard drug usage, drug dealer/plug/baby mama/baby daddy!characters, bestiality, l0li/sh0ta, etc.

𖥻 what i will write: smut, headcanons, fluff, angst, n/sfw, thirsts, drabbles, mild gore, black!reader, ONLY x readers, ONLY 18+ characters for smut, spanking, spitting, degradation, male/gn reader, bimbo/himbo!reader, fem/masc characters, dubcon, dark content, hybrids.

if any of the following makes you uncomfortable, please block me/the following tags: 𖥻vampiiebitez 𖥻vampiiethirstz 𖥻vampiiespeakz 𖥻tw:dubcon 𖥻tw:somono 𖥻tw:piss 𖥻tw:yandere 𖥻tw:r1mming 𖥻tw:corruption 𖥻tw:yandere 𖥻tw:toxicrelationship 𖥻tw:blackmail 𖥻tw:monsterfucking 𖥻tw:fearplay 𖥻tw:blackmail 𖥻tw:gunplay 𖥻tw:knifeplay 𖥻tw:bimboreader 𖥻tw:himboreader 𖥻tw:housewifereader 𖥻tw:househusbandreader 𖥻tw:stepcest (only stepsiblings) 𖥻tw:agegap (both characters 18+)

𖥻 do: keep in mind that while i do write dark content, i do not condone any of these actions in real life. some of the things i write, i use to cope with past trauma. should you further inquire as to why i write such topics, your ask will be deleted/ignored.

ⓒ vampiie 2024.

[thornybubbles]

Little note to those of you that don't like Yandere stuff and get upset because other people do...

Just blocked someone that admonished me for making Giorno into a yandere and wanted to know why couldn't people like me just make OCs instead.

I'm asking that people please stop doing this. If you don't like what someone else writes, then don't read it. It's such a simple concept, and yet so many people have difficulty with it.

I don't like it when people insist that their headcanons ARE canon. I don't like it when people ship characters that don't have a canon relationship and then insist that their headcanons were what the actual creator intended.

Do you know what I do about stuff like that?

I just don't read it. When I see that a story is shipping characters that I don't think should be shipped, then I just find another story to read.

I don't like coffee shop or modern day AUs. So, I don't read them.

I don't like stories that focus on graphic depictions of sexual violence or kinks that I personally think are gross. I HATE stuff about sexual or romantic relationships with characters who are related. So I avoid stories that feature subject matter like that.

But no matter what, I don't slide into the author's comments section and try to shame them for what they write simply because I take personal offense to it.

This is part of the reason why I stayed away from Tumblr for so long. There are just far too many people here that can't stand the fact that other people are different from them and may possibly like things they don't like.

Life's too short to spend time stressing over stuff like that.

Writing fanfiction is about exploring the "what ifs" of canon. What if the hero didn't win? What if this character did things differently during the final battle? What if the two characters that are always fighting managed to sort things out and become friends? What if this character was a yandere? What if YOU, the reader, where a part of the story somehow? It's fun. It's fun to write and fun to read.

At least it should be.

What's not fun is when a complete stranger scolds you as if they have some kind of moral authority over what you should and shouldn't be writing.

If you do this to me, I will not have a discussion with you. I will not try to defend or justify my decisions to you, nor will I give in to your demands or apologize. I will continue to turn your favorite characters into twisted little yanderes in spite of your personal offense to the idea, in the same way other people insist that Spiderman and the Green Goblin are somehow gay for each other. I will just block you and continue my evil ways.

But all joking aside, I have no ill will against people who DON'T like yandere stuff. I completely understand why people don't and I won't hate on you or make fun of you for it. You have just as much right to dislike something as I have to like it. But if you are really bothered by my writing, then block me. That's the beauty of the block button on Tumblr, if you block me then my stuff will never show up in the search results for you again. You could also try filtering the yandere tag or just the word "yandere" itself and Tumblr will hide posts of that subject matter from you.

[picapicamagpie]

OC & Art Request Master Post

I think it’s about time I had one of these! This has been in my drafts since June last year… It feels weird making an introduction when I’ve been on Tumblr for so long now but now I’m more active I feel it’s appropriate.

You can call me whatever you want, but I’m partial to Cadence, Cady, or Picapica! I’m an adult, she/her, and I’m completely crazy over all things birds and Sing (I also like MLP, Helluva Boss, Pokemon, HTTYD, Sonic, and Godzilla). 90% of my posts are about my self ship, but I occasionally post about whatever random Sing thought is rotting my brain at the time. I also like to take art requests, art trades, and draw gifts for friends 💖 I’m also currently running Sing text posts into the ground.

‼️‼️IMPORTANT: Obviously I am a self shipper. I self ship only with Klaus Kickenklober. For deeply personal reasons, it causes me a lot of distress to see him in other ships. If I have to see other content of him being shipped with another character, canon or oc, I will have to unfollow/block. Sorry for being super sensitive about it, I wish I wasn’t, but it’s a boundary I cannot compromise. I don’t mind if people like or dislike him though and respect it as long as they respect my love for him.‼️‼️

This blog is SFW, however I have a Twitter account for all my nsfw content. It has art and “bonus” fic chapters about Klaus solo and with Cadence. However it’s a very personal account and I’m very picky about who I let access it. You can DM me if you’re interested, but I need to know you really well (well enough to know you’re an adult) and be comfortable about it. I am not comfortable with giving access to minors (obviously), and to people who ship with Klaus.

Trade/Request Status: ✨1 slot open!

Current To-Do List: Joethetoonfanandoutcast, 1 surprise gift for friend

OC Info

Reference Sheet:

Of course she wears clothes normally which you can see in her other tagged art, I just wanted to show her feather patterns

Character Info: Here

More Pics for Reference: Tagged ‘Cadence’

Fanfics: AO3

Art Trades/Requests Information under the cut:

I am very much an amateur, hobbyist artist but I don’t mind doing requests or trades! However I have some rules:

‼️I will not draw or write anything to do with Klaus Kickenklober, unless it involves my oc. He is a very important and personal character to me.‼️

‼️I will not draw or write about any Buster Moon ships, canon or oc. MoonJewel ride or die‼️

🪶 Please pm me for trades and requests, otherwise I’ll forget!

🪶 I can do art or fanfic trades, but fanfic trades are limited to one-shots because I am a s l o w writer and I don’t want to commit to a multi chapter fic and then lose the will to live. Fanfics are for trades only, I don’t take writing requests because it takes me so long.

🪶 All the usual blacklist stuff - no racism, sexism, anti-lgbtq, dubcon, anything hateful/political, MAP, etc etc. Also no fetish artwork - if you try masking your fetish in a request I will notice and I will not do it. No kink-shaming here, but I’m not interested in someone trying to trick me into providing for their spank bank.

🪶 I’m really not fussy about specifics, I can trade a fic for art or art for a fic or whatever. I don’t mind the other person’s skill level because I’m not very good myself!

🪶 No nsfw art as I’m not good at it but I’m happy to write smut for a trade providing the other person is 18+. No nsfw requests. Nsfw will not be posted to my blog which is strictly sfw, but shared privately via email instead. Remember that Tumblr bans nsfw.

🪶 I can’t draw humans, humanoids, or robots. I can try, but be prepared to be disappointed. Backgrounds will be just coloured or very simple.

🪶 Requests are totally up to my discretion. As I get nothing in return for my time, I do them only if I like the idea and will decline if I don’t. It’s not likely I’ll take an oc request, I usually only draw ocs for a trade. Requests are also lowest priority for me - I will draw them when I feel like it and give no time frame. It may or may not be coloured. Please don’t spam me with multiple requests. Please be polite and remember, if you’re getting free art, don’t expect it immediately! I don’t always post requests and gifts to my blog to avoid spam but feel free to repost with credit.

🪶 Art trades are highest priority for me. Because there is someone else putting in time of their own, I will try to finish asap usually within a week. Order of priority goes: 1. Trades, 2. Personal stuff for myself (including gifts for friends if I want to), 3. Requests. Also when someone makes me a gift I almost always make them one in return.

🪶 I’m pretty good at researching all different characters and fandoms. I don’t have a fandom blacklist.