Tumgik
#i just can stop thinking about how dirty she got done
ganondoodle · 10 months
Text
back on my zelda thoughts
idk about you but i got sick of zelda running after people with big sorrowful puppy eyes begging them to listen to her(they wont) or to help link in totk pretty fast
#ganondoodles talks#totk spoilers#i just can stop thinking about how dirty she got done#she can be a tragic character without being constantly sad and scared#dare i say she contributed more positive to the game when she was a dragon#the only scenes she didnt look super sad was pretty much when talking about link at the teacup memory bc .. you know she actually knows him#and where shes essentially forced to decide to half kill herself in order to do literally anything for her own time#now that im thinking about it how the heck did anything on the tutorial even work with her giving her powers to you#and you sending the master sword to her#just feels like they scrambled to somehow get you her pwoers and the mastersword to her#some random bubbles of time magic idk lol#if the game went different#wouldnt it have been cool if those had been caused by zelda learning how to reastablish a connection to her own time#creating those weird time bubbles#and through the course of the game you find more and they let you interact with her more and more as shes learning how to use her powers#until at some point she finds a way to return herself#maybe even her spirit as a companion for a time before she gains control of it further#you know so she can actually at least TALK to you#giving her time powers out of nowehre and then not doing anything with it exept send her back in time somehow and time reverse a dagger#like what#wouldnt it just have made more sense when at first she did it unknowningly and then learned how to use it herself#and then .... well travel back again#ham fisted way to introduce a neat lil game gimmick i guess#and nothing more bc how dare she do anything on her own except .. sacrifice herself lol#i guess its meant ot be uwu tragic bc sonia got fridged too quickly for zelda to learn from her or whatever#which is why i said she learns on her own#idk man this game is driving me nuts
109 notes · View notes
luvyeni · 5 months
Text
❛COCKBLOCKERS❜ ( 00' liners )
authors note. based on a dream i had 😊 enjoy !
Tumblr media
p. roommate!00' line x fem!reader w. 6.4k+
— 𖦹 warnings. unprotected sex, multiple sex scenes, oral ( f. receiving ), dirty talk, haechan is a munch, size kink ( jeno duh.)
— 𖦹 ( living with four boys isn't easy for your sex life , but luckily your roommates are here for you) !
Tumblr media
“Do you even masturbate?”
Living with haechan for almost 2 years, you were pretty used to these questions — to the point were you don’t even flinch at the questions anymore. “Of course I do, i'm human haechan.”
“Yeah but i've never caught you, and i've caught just about everyone who lives in this apartment.” He was referring to your other roommates; jaemin, jeno and renjun — who were also used to his antics. “That’s because jaemin has a exhibition kink and jeno is a himbo so he forgets to lock the door, I've caught both of them multiple times.” Jaemin shrugged, smirking. “Can’t say you’re wrong.”
“Im not a himbo.” Jeno looked up from his phone. “Whatever you say, renjun is the only one I haven’t caught, because like me he’s smart enough to lock his door.” You said, speaking of the boy who finally exited his room. “What about locking my door.” He said. “She talking about when you masturbate.” Your eyes widened at haechan completely taking what you said out of context.
“W-why are you talking about that?” he cough, rubbing the back of his red neck. “Haechans bitch ass took that out of context don’t worry.” You threw the pillow at the boy, he dramatically fell back. “So where do you do it?” He asked, picking the pillow up. “In my room or in the shower, jesus haechan not everyone gets off in the open spaces.” You said.
“Wh-why are you guys having this conversation right now?” Renjun finally asked the right question. “Because jaemin and haechan think she’s asexual because we’ve never seen a boy come in and out of this apartment for her, and she never leaves the house.” You scoffed at jeno, meanwhile renjun regretted asking the question. “In other words, she’s not getting any dick.”
You scoffed, and that totally wasn’t your fault. “Well im sorry but not many guys like the or are comfortable fucking in a apartment when you have a mans voice yelling ‘yn where’s the chopstick for the ramen!’ or ‘yn how do start the washer!’ You mock their voices. “it’s kind of a turn off.”
“But that doesn’t stop you from leave and getting some.” Jaemin said. “You would think, but it seems like everyone on campus seems to think we’re in a big poly relationship, thanks to haechan being the alcoholic he is.” You said, remember the party a year ago. “What did I do?” You scoffed. “You got on a table and yelled it in front of half of the campus.”
“Oh yeah.”
“Yeah, so thanks to you 3 cockblockers im reduced to using my fingers as a form of release.” You stood up. “Is this conversation done now, can I go to my room?” You didn’t wait for a answer, you just kept walking. “3 ? What about renjun? Jeno asked. “He knows where the chopsticks are, he also knows how to start the washer and hold his alcohol.” You walked past the boy, smiling. “Good job renjun, for not being the reason im involuntary celibate.”
He watched you walk all the way to your room, closing your door. “Why does she always defend you?” Haechan said, renjun shrugged. “Does she want to fuck you or something?” Jaemin laughed. “More like he wants to fuck her.” Renjun felt his face heating up again, quickly walking back to his room.
“Well no shit look at her, who in this house doesn’t want to fuck her.” Jeno shook his head. “Don’t try and judge me jeno, you were the first one to say you wanted to fuck her.” Jeno stood up, putting his phone away. “Yeah I did, and I still do.” He said. “But I don’t act like a bitchless loser either.” He picked up his gym bag. “Hey! Im not bitchless.” The boy fought back. “Whatever you say, maybe don’t ask her if she’s asexual or training to be a nun and she’ll fuck you.” He left out the house.
“Haechannie.” Jaemin stood up, “Don’t give up, she’ll come around and find something appealing on you." He looked the boy up and down, patting his shoulder in a comforting way. “maybe.” He left leaving the boy to pout in the livingroom.
“Well shit, now im horny.”
There was a knock on your door, you looked up from your show playing on the computer as the door slowly opened, renjun popping his head in. “I just wanted to see if you were still up, and to not let what haechan said bother you, it’s okay if you don’t do that stuff all the time.” He said, you smiled. “Whatever comes out of haechans mouth will never make me upset, he’s harmless.”
He chuckled, “More like demented, but I get it.” You laughed in return, making him smile. “Is that it?” you asked and he nodded. “Yeah, im going to bed, i'll see you in the morning, goodnight.” You waved. “Goodnight renjun.”
“Stupid fucking professors.” You dropped your bag on the ground in anger. “Whoa.” Jaemin stood in the kitchen. “What’s wrong with you?” You opened the refrigerator door, grabbing a beer. “Oh you must be stressed, it’s 12 and you’re drinking.” He said. “I am.” You cracked open the can, taking a big gulp of the beer, sighing.
“My professors moved my essay date up until this week, because she won’t be in next week.” You took another sip. “how is it my fault her sister is going into labor, does her sister have incompetent husband.”
Jaemin saw how angrier you were getting with every sip, deciding to intervene. “okay love that’s enough.” He took the can from your hand. “You’re stressed, drinking isn’t gonna solve it.” You sighed, rubbing your temples, leaning over the counter. “I’m gonna drop out.” He laughed, knowing you didn’t mean it. “You’re adorable.”
You glared at him as he stood next to you, the dishes he was doing long forgotten, instead he was staring at you. “Im about to break down and that’s all you have to say,  im adorable.” He nodded, you pouted. “Don’t make that face, you’re making it hard for me.”
You tilted your head in confusion. “What do you mean?” You eyes widened as he got closer and closer — pressing you against the counter. “It’s hard to not want to not stick my hand in these sweats of yours and help you distress — I hate seeing you all stressed.” He was extremely close, his nose brushing against yours gently.
“Jaemin.” You sighed, grabbing his bicep. “We ca— you’re stressed aren’t you baby?” He said, you nodded. “This is what I do when im stressed, I get off and I know your little fingers won’t pleasure you enough.” He said. “I didn’t want to say anything yesterday cause I didn’t want to get haechan started, but I hear you sometimes, when you’re touching yourself.”
eyes widened in horror — you couldn’t believe he heard you. “Oh my god.” You whined. “This is so embarrassing.” You covered your face, but he quickly removed your hands. “Don’t be, those pretty gasp and whines coming from your room are like music.” He said. “But I know it’s not enough is it?” His fingers danced along your waistband. “Not enough to make you satisfied?”
You moaned softly, he smirked. “Listen to you baby, I know you want it, just let me help you distress.” He said, pulling at the waistband letting it snap at your waist. “When im done we don’t even have to talk about it.” He said, but you could hear the condescending tone in his voice. “But you might want more.”
You thought about it, what’s the worst that could happen, it will be awkward for a few days then you’ll go back to being normal — you could do that definitely – you once avoided renjun when you walked on him in the shower, and then you went right back to talking to him like nothing happen, and he let it go like nothing happened. “Princess don’t think too hard, hurt that pretty little head.”
You sighed — his hands waiting at your waistband waiting for you to give him the go. “And it won’t be awkward?” He nodded. “We won’t speak of it if you want” He reassured, kissing your forehead. “I just want to help you.” He whispered. “Just wanna make you cum.” That did it for you, you grabbed his wrist, guiding his hand into your sweats. “Please touch me.”
He smiled, cupping your clothed heats. “Sh-shit.” You moaned out. “You’re soaked through your panties pretty.” He toyed with your folds through your underwear. “Ja-jaemin.” You sighed, he smiled. “N-no teasing.” You whined, he chuckled. “Okay baby I won’t, I wont.” He said moving your panties to the side, running a finger across your folds. “So wet baby, your pussy is so desperate for me to touch her.”
He pressed a finger at your hole, slowly sinking it in. “Jaemin-” You moaned as his thick finger stretched you out. “Such a tight pussy, poor baby hasn’t had anybody touch her like this in a while has she?” You moaned, shaking your head. “You want another.”
“y-yes.” You moaned as he added another finger, stretching your cunt out more. “Sh-shit your fingers are amazing.” He smirked. “Yeah?” He asked, moving  his fingers in and out of your hole. “My fingers stretching your pretty pussy good?” You nodded, moaning out as his used the pad of his thumb to rub your clit. “Fu-fuck im gonna cum.”
“Go a head, you deserve it princess, cum on my fingers.” He fucked his fingers into your hole faster. “Cum for me.” He said and on his command you came all over his fingers. “Fuck!” You sighed as he stroked your clit with his thumb as you came down from your high. “Jae.” You gasped, grabbing his wrist,  stopping him. “I-I came.”
He chuckled stopping his movements. “You’re evil.” You breathed, he laughed. “But it was fun watching you struggle, and you feel better don’t you?” You nodded, “I do, thank you.”
You both were bought back to reality by a cough. “Want to come back to earth, you’re in the kitchen.” Jeno said, looking at the scene in front of him. “With your hands stuffed in her sweats.” He held his bag in his hand. “Right.” He took his hand out from your pants. Your face was heated with embarrassment of being caught — jaemin on the other hand couldn’t care less. “Thanks to someone I have something take care of.”
Your eye widened — jeno scoffing in amusement as you both watched jaemin brought his hand covered in your juices to his mouth, sucking on them, humming as he exited into his room to do the obvious.
You and jeno stood in a silence — a awkward one before spoke up. “I’m sorry you had to walk in on that.” You stood on the balls of your feet, looking down. “We all need to distress sometimes, next time it should be in your room though, haechan could’ve walked in and that would’ve been— tragic.” You said and he nodded. “also please don’t tell him, I don’t want it to be awkward, renjun either.” He gave you a salute.
“My lips are sealed.” He said, you nodded. “I owe you big time, thank you so much.” You said. “I'm gonna go, see you after your class.” You scurried away to your room, his eyes followed you the entire time.
“Shit.” He sighed to himself, how was he supposed to focus in class with the scene of you moaning while his friend fingered you in his head; and his cock hard against his jeans.
Luckily a few days past and the kitchen incident was never brought up, it was kept a secret between you, jaemin and jeno — like it never happened, well expect when it happened again when everyone wasn’t home again, or when jaemin would look  at you with fuck me eyes that made you flustered, but no one even noticed — at least that’s what you thought.
“I know it’s in here.” You rummaged through his dirty clothes hamper — any other time that would’ve gross you out, going through a grown mans laundry, but your favorite black bra, was in there and you needed to wash it, you were going out on Saturday and you needed it — it made your tits look the best.
“Excuse me.” A voice made you jump turning around. “Shit jeno.” You sighed, calming down. “You scared me.” He lifted his eyebrows in confusion. “I scared you?” He said. “You’re in my room, going through my dirty laundry and I scared you?” He laughed amused.
“Your laundry?” You said, standing fully up. “I thought this was jaemins, it was near his beds.” You said. “Because his bed is closer to the door where I had it because I was gonna wash them later.” He pointed to the closet. “his is in the closet.” You wanted to shrivel up and die. “I'm so sorry.” You quickly put the stuff that fell out, putting it back by the door.
“It’s okay.” He said, sitting his gym bag down. You opened the closet, where his hamper was. “Oh.” You bent down going through, huffing once you realized it wasn’t I there either. “I has to be in here.” You whined.
Jeno couldn’t help it — he is only a man, and you were wearing those shorts that made your ass look so good, he couldn’t help but stare, his cock hardening in his gym shorts. “how was the gym?” You asked as you went through the hamper. “Good.” You didn’t hear the subtle change in his voice.
He was slowly losing it, the way you kept having a conversation with him, with your ass basically in his face, if he looked hard — which he already was, but if he looked harder, he could see the outline of your pussy — you weren’t wearing any panties.
“Fuck.” He cursed, finally snapping. “You have to be doing this on purpose.” He said darkly. “huh?” You turned to him confused. “I mean what you’re looking for can’t be in there, the hamper isn’t that big and you reached the bottom already.” He said. “So you have to know what you’re doing.”
“Do-doing what?” You said , slowing backing up as he stalked you, his eyes low and full of lust. “showing that ass of yours off.” He backed you up against the wall. “I can see your pussy through these shorts.” You bit your lip. “I-im sorry.” You looked up at him your lashes.
He grabbed your jaw, forcing you to look up at him. “If I let you go this time will you owe me?” he smirked. “You still owe me for not telling haechan and renjun about you and jaemin.” He said. “should I tell him then? What about when you both did it again on the couch?” How did he know about that. “how did you- you might want to keep it under wraps, but jaemin loves to talk.” He said, his hands squeezing your waist — you whimpered.
“You know I was pretty pissed, finding both of you in that kitchen?” he said. “and when jaemin told me again I was livid.” He pressed his sweaty body against yours, his musky smell from the gym radiating off of him, it was your favorite smell on him. “Wh-why?” You stuttered, he smirked. “Because I wanted to be the one to taste that pussy first.”
You felt his words in your cunt, this was the second time one of your roommates was pressing you against a surface, confessing a dirty thoughts that they had of you. “You’re so hard.” You felt his hard on against your pelvis, twitching in shorts. “Yeah I am, cause of you baby, you gonna help me?”
You weren’t gonna pass this up — you weren’t dumb. “Yeah.” You said , he quickly grabbed your shorts, pushing them down  to your ankles. “No panties baby, you’re really looking to be fucked like a whore.” He tapped your thighs. “Jump.”
He grabbed both of your thighs , his cock was now sitting under your ass. “gonna stretch this pussy out.” He held your body in one arm, quickly undoing his shorts letting them fall to the ground. “Je-jeno please fuck me.” Your voice was whiny, your fingers locked around his neck.
He lifted you up, grabbing the base of his cock holding it as he sunk you down on it. “Sh-shit you’re so fucking tight.” He groaned. “So tiny , you’re pussy is struggling to take me.” You moaned, closing your eyes as he slowly sunk deeper and deeper into your wet cunt. “Of fuck! You’re so big.”
He finally bottomed out, his hand against the wall above your head as he calmed himself down. “Fu-fuck this pussy is gonna make me cum early.” He slowly began to move, his cock hitting all the right spots as he held you against the wall. “Oh my god.” You gasped.
He began to move faster, your head knocked against the wall. “fuck!” you screamed. “Baby, these walls are thin and anyone could walk into the apartment and hear you getting your pussy fucked open by me, unless you want haechan and renjun to know how much a whore you are, cause im pretty sure jaemin already knows, then I suggest you try and shut that pretty mouth of yours.”
His words made you clench around him. “Fu-fuck baby let up, or im gonna cum inside your pussy.” He groaned. “unless that’s what you want.” You moaned out, yanking at hair on his neck. “Pl-please.” You whimpered.
“Fu-fuck you want me to cum inside you?” he grunted, his hips snapped harder against you. “Breed this little cunt up.” He hummed, biting at your neck. “yes!” You screamed. “please cum inside me.” He groaned, his pelvis hitting your clit, along with his cocked continuously hitting your cervix. “Fuck im gonna cum.”
Before you could even warn him again, you came, he felt your cunt spasm around him. “Sh-shit.” He groaned, looking down where your bodies connected a white ring formed around his cock base. “Oh fuck, your pussy is magic -fuck- im gonna cum.” He moaned. “Fuck im cumming , im gonna cum.” He groaned, then you felt his cum leaking into  your womb.
“Shit.” He sighed. “Hold on.” He held you in his arms, sitting down with you in his lap, his cock still inside you. “im gonna pull out now.” You nodded , and his lifted you up, his soft cock slipping out of you. “That felt good.” You said. “Yeah?” He said, you nodded. “I need to shower now.” You got up, he held your arm. “You got it?”
You nodded, legs a little wobbly. “Do you need help?” He asked, your turned to him. “Are you really gonna help or do you want to have shower sex?” He smiled cheekily. “will you let me fuck you if I help you shower after?” You shook your head. “Fine.”
“Wait what were you even looking for?” He asked, taking his shirt off, throwing it in the hamper. “My black bra, im going out on Saturday and I need it.” You said. “The one that makes your tits look good.” You gave him a side eye. “Don’t look at me, of course I look at your tits.” He said, looking down. “Here it is.” He held it in his hand, throwing it in his hamper. “I'll wash it for you.”
“I better get my bra back lee jeno.”
You sat at your desk, finishing up the essay that stressed you out earlier in the week. “finally.” You finally hit the send button. “I hope your sisters husband has a horrible day, cause why are you going on maternity leave for her baby.” You pushed your glasses against your face. “Hey.” Jaemin knocked on the door. “Next time you fuck jeno, don’t leave your shorts in the room.” He tossed them on your bed.
“Thanks.” You said, it almost didn’t phase you showing him the computer. “Look I finished the essay.” You said. “From the other day?” he asked, you shook your head. “I guess my fingers really did wonders didn’t it.” You rolled your eyes. “get out of my room jaemin.” He smirked. “Im just saying , these fingers are magical, look how fast you finished that essay.” You picked up the plushie haechan gave you for your birthday about to chuck it at him, but he quickly shut the door.
“Dumbass.” You turned back to your computer, going over your syllabus for the upcoming week. Your door slowly creaked  open,  you thought it was jaemin, so you picked the toy up, your arm up ready to throw it. “Stop fucking around jaemin.” You threw the toy. “Jaemin?” you swiveled around in the chair, facing the person. “Was he just in here or something? Why are you calling me jaemin?”
“Oh shit haechan my bad, jaemin came to return something to me , and he was fucking around so I had to kick him out my room.” You quickly explained , he walked into your room, you noticed him stumble a bit — he was drunk. “I thought he was fucking around at my door.”
He hummed sitting on your bed, the toy in his hand, his cheeks a dusty red from the alcohol. “Did you have fun with mark and Johnny tonight?” he nodded, you hated when he was quiet, it seemed uncanny. “I did, but it was ruined.” He said. “Ruined?” you questioned. “How was it ruined?”
“I figured out I must be the problem.” He said. “What do you mean hyuck?” You turned in your chair facing him. “I might bit be as witty as jaemin or as strong as jeno or even as smart as renjun, but I thought I at least had some good qualities.” He said, picking at the hair of the toy.
“donghyuck what are you ta– oh.” It finally it you. “Shit, how did you find out?” You said. “I heard jaemin talking about it when I walked into the house.” He said, finally looking at you. “Are you upset?” He scoffed, smiling to himself. “Did you fuck renjun?” You looked at him weird. “no.”
“Good, I refuse to lose to renjun.” He said. “Why are you in a one sided competition with renjun, he hardly comes out of his room?” You said. “Because you don’t see it, but I do, I am man, I saw that jeno and jaemin wanted to fuck you and look what happened.” You rolled your eyes. “You’re deranged, renjun doesn’t want to fuck me.”
“well im not missing my chance and letting him win.” He said, sinking to his knees. “W-what are you doing?” You asked , as he crawled to you. “What does it look like?” He tapped your legs. “Im gonna eat you out.”
He pulled your legs apart, you were only in a oversized shirt, and some underwear. “H-haechan.” You covered your clothed heat. You’re drunk.” He scoffed. “I'm fully aware about what I want, and what I want is to eat your pussy.”
He moved your hand. “Fuck, you smell so good.” He inhaled. “Can’t wait to eat you out.” You chewed on your bottom lip. “hyuck, you’re drunk, you need to sleep.” You said, but he wasn’t listen. “Please, I really want to.” He looked up you, a look in his eyes. “Please.”
He kissed at your thighs. “See I am fully aware.” He kissed your clothed cunt, you sighed, your hands flying to his hair. “You taste so good.” He said licking your folds. “Let me take your panties off and get a full taste.” He said, his voice sounded so breathy, almost like a whimper — it turned you on even more. “that’s all I want, you don’t have to do anything in return.”
“Fu-fuck okay.” You moaned, he smiled kissing your thighs once again. “thank you.” He quickly grabbed the waistband of your panties, you lifted your hips — holding on to the arms of the chair as the air from your aircon hit your cunt. “So pretty.” He said, dipping his head back into your thighs.
“Fuck , such a pretty pussy.” He licked your now exposed folds. “sh-shit haechan.” He sloppily made out with your cunt. “it feels so good, doing so good.” Your praise went straight to his cock, his cock twitched against his pants, he hummed against your cunt. “fu-fucking good boy.”
You tugged at his hair with one hand, holding the arm of the chair, pushing him deeper and deeper into your cunt. “Hyuck, fuck!” You yelped. “Fuck im gonna cum.” He pulled away, his lips and bottom lip covered in your juices — his eyes completely blown. “Please cum.” His fingers strung at your clit, he looked up at you. “I want you to cum in my mouth.” He said. “Please I want it.”
“Fuck im cumming.” He put his mouth back on your cunt, your legs tightened around his head, cumming — haechan catching all of it, getting even more intoxicated. “Haechan.” You whined as he cleaned up his mess, pulling away. “Did I do good?”
You ran your hand through his messy hair. “yes, you did.” He smiley like a fool. “You like being called good boy" You smirked. “Are you- are you a sub.” He pinched your thigh, you hissed, tugging at his hair. “im not a sub.” He said. “Just being called good boy by you turns me on.”
“So it’s just me?” You smirked, he could hear the condescending tone. “If you tell anybody then I’ll deny.” He said. “Too bad the entire fucking apartment heard it, keep it down.” Jeno stood in the door. “and I still got to fuck her first.” He closed the door. “now you have to let me fuck you.”
“Haechan get the fuck out my room.”
“You are right.” Jaemin ogled your bust. “Huh?” You said sitting in the front seat of the car, renjun driving since he was the only sensible one. “Your tits do look good in that bra.” Renjun looked at the boy through the mirror — he wasn’t dumb, he knew what was going on, he seen the changes happening, the sexual tension that was constantly lingering in air when you were around — it kind of made him jealous.
Renjun had always thought you were pretty , he was newer to the apartment, but he was constantly nervous whenever he tried to talk to you — often opting to stay to himself in his room. “Stop looking at my tits jaemin.” You said, turning around where the three boys were. “be on your best behaviors, no getting sloppy drunk, im not dragging you home.” You said, but they weren’t paying attention, you shook head turning around.
“My tits seem more important.” You said to yourself — renjun slammed on the breaks, quickly putting his arm out to stop you from  hitting your head on the dashboard, the guys in the back not so much. “Shit im sorry I thought I saw a cat in road.” Renjun said, as the guys in the back moaned and groaned in pain.
You turned to him, where he was smiling to himself. “We’re here anyway.” You said, as he parked the car. “Go drink it off, not too much though.” You said, climbing out the car. “I swear he did that on purpose.” You heard haechan mumble as you all walked into the bar where your other friends waited. “Thank you.” You turned to renjun. “F-for what.” He smiled, you laughed. “Don’t mention it.” He followed behind the guys where Johnny and mark were.
“What!?” Your friends looked at you with jaws dropped. “All of them?” jinhae asked. “well not renjun.” you said taking your sip of your drink. “but yes.” You said. “And they all know about it?” You nodded. “I mean they’ve all seemly walked in or found out in someway.” You said. “And they’re okay with that?”
“Do they really have a choice, im not really looking for a relationship and they can easily stop if they want, im not going to them for it.” You shrugged. “Wow you lucky bitch.” Dayhun said. “We can barely find a guy who can find the clit, and here you are getting good dick by 3 guys who actually want to fuck you.” You turned to where they were, all of them looking directly at you. “Hi.” Haechan waved beaming, jeno slapping the back of his head. You turned around laughing at them.
“Are you a loser?” Jeno slapped the back of the boys head. “Stop waving.” The boy rubbed the back of his head. “Will you guys stop hitting me, i am in pain!” He shrieked, Johnny  and mark caught on to the tension. “What the fuck is going on with you guys?” Johnny said. “There’s this air around all of you guys, and I can’t tell if it’s hostility or- it’s sexual hostility.” Renjun spoke up.
“Sexual hostility?” Mark questioned. “Why?” Renjun got up to get himself another drink while they explained to the two boys. “Hey.” You stood at the bar. “Hey.” He smiled, ordering his drink. “Are they drunk yet?” You asked. “Not yet give it another 20 minutes, we’ll be dragging them out of the bar.” You shook your head. “Great.” You said, the bartender returning with both of your drinks. “here for her drink too.”
“Thank you, you didn’t have to.” he held his hand up. “I wanted to, go have fun with your friends.” He said, turning to make his way back to the boys. “What were you guys talking about?” jaemin asked. “nothing I just bought her a drink.”
“what?” Johnny smirked. “You fucked her too, lucky bastard.” Renjun rolled his eye. “No im not fucking her.” He said. “you mean they’re all fucking her, but not you.” Mark said with wide eyes. “Like is this voluntary or does she find something wrong with you?” Renjun cursed at the boys as they busted out into laughter. “I’m leaving all of you here watch, you bastards I hope you all get an std and won’t be able to have sex at all.”
And of course you had to end up dragging haechan out of the bar — jaemin and jeno dragging their bodies behind, stumbling. “Stupid fuckers who can’t hold your drinks.” Renjun held the door open as you dropped Haechans body in the back seat, letting them all crawl into the back. “Thank you love.” Haechan slurred, you shut the door climbing into the passengers seat— renjun into the drivers.
The ride home was nothing the sorts of good, jeno and jaemin arguing drunkenly about random shit, and haechan dry heaving complaining about having to throw up. “junie think you can speed up this car, before I take the wheel and crash it.” He nodded, pressing on the gas.
You guys finally got back to the apartment, renjun dragging haechan by his collar. “Be more gentle, im sick.” He whined. “And who’s fault is that, renjun opened the door to haechans room, pushing him inside closing the door.
“Hey yn, come.” Jaemin slurred. “Let’s go in your room.” He smirked. “If think you’re getting fucked tonight think again.” You took his hand off your shoulder. “go to sleep and sober up.” You said, he pouted. “Jeno, lets cuddle.” You shook your head, watching jeno push at the boy. “No you have a boner, im not cuddling with you like that.” He said , you closed the door huffing. “see why I don’t go out with them often?”
Renjun stood up against the wall. “This will be last time I go out with them two.” You said, walking into the kitchen, renjun followed behind. “Here.” You reached into the fridge pulling out two beers. “For your help in getting them to bed.”
He took the can from you, you opened yours taking a sip. “I think staying home is way better anyway, my feet are killing me and this bra is uncomfortable.” You bent over taking your shoes off, giving renjun a  perfect shot of your boobs. He took a sip of his drink, trying to look away.
“Don’t wear things that make you uncomfortable.” He said, you smiled. “look at you being all caring, this is the most you’ve said to me in a week, I was certain you hated me.” You walked into the living room sitting down on the couch. “I don’ hate you.” He said.
“Could’ve fooled me.” You said. “I don’t really, Im just nervous.” He said, you cocked your head to the side. “Nervous?” You questioned. “why are you nervous?” He said too much , he sat the beer down. “Maybe the drinks from the bar and that beer is too much.” He felt the heat rising to his face. “Im talking too much.”
You chuckled, he smiled before chuckling too. “No tell me why are you nervous?” You said, putting your hand on his thigh — he knew you meant it in a comforting way, but his cock clearly didn’t get the memo, twitching against his jeans. “W-well because you’re you.”
“Im me?” You questioned, he nodded. “You’re pretty and smart and you don’t care about what people think and you're hot.” He covered his mouth, he swears he’ll never drink around you again. “fuck im an idiot.” He said. “No it’s cute, you’re cute.”
You hissed again, the pain in your shoulder increasing. “it’s time to give this bra up.” You sighed, rubbing your shoulder. “Let me." He said. “Oh you don’t have to, once I go to my room it will be off.” You said, but he stopped you.  “im good at these things, trust me.” He said. “fine.”
You turned around, your back was facing him. He moved your hair to the side, bringing his hands to your tender shoulders, rubbing — you sighed as he magically worked on your shoulders. “Fuck that feels good.” You whispered.
He was bit his lip, but you sounded so pretty, your moans going straight to his cock. “You have like magic fingers or something.” He hummed, sliding your bra down your shoulder, your neck fully on display — ready to be kissed.
“You feel better?” He said you nodded. “You’re a god send.” You said, his hands lingered on your neck. “Renjun.” You were about to turn around and question him, when you felt his lips against your neck. “Im sorry.” He whispered. “I just don’t think I can handle myself anymore.” he left little kisses along your shoulder blades, nipping lightly making you shiver. You turned around, slamming your lips against his.
You climbed into his lap, unbuttoning his shirt — reaching behind undoing your bra. “fuck you’re so pretty.” He groaned, you sat directly on his cock. “m'so hard right now.” He groaned, you grinded against him. “fuck, please don’t tease me.”
You got up, he undid his pants lifting his hips up, leaving them at his ankles. You lift under your skirt, pulling your panties down, climbing back into his lap, you grabbed the base of his cock, sinking down on it. “shit.” He sighed as you sat down fully on his cock. “Fuck you’re so tight.” You moaned out, holding his shoulders for support.
“Y-you’re so big.” He groaned. “Fu-fuck yn, please move.” You began to move your hips, up and down on his cock — he held your hips, guiding you. “your cunt feels so good.” He groaned, throwing his head back in pleasure, he felt like he was in heaven, the way your cunt fluttered around him, squeezing his cock beautifully. “Oh fuck -fuck- im gonna cum.” He groaned. “Im not wearing a condom, get up, im gonna cum.”
But you don’t listen, you keep riding him. “Fuck, yn please.” He groaned, trying to hold off. You tug at his hair, whispering in his ear. “Fuck, please just cum.” You moaned. “Please im gonna cum.” He cursed, fuck you were killing him. “Fuck!” He groaned, shooting his load into your cunt, triggering your own orgasm. “Sh-shit renjun!”
Your legs trembled as you rode out your high. “god your beautiful.” He pulled you into a kiss — out of all of them he was the only one to kiss you.
You both later went to bed, and you didn’t wake up until the next morning when you heard them fussing in the kitchen, you groaning as you stomped into the kitchen. “What the fuck is going on?” You yelled. “Where is the coffee? I need coffee.” Haechan groaned.
“And that’s why you’re raging early in the damn morning.” You opened the cabinet, slamming it. “Why so loud?”  Jaemin rubbing his temples. “Im pissed.” You sat down at the table. “Why did renjun not make you cum?” You eyes shot open. “Are you people just waiting by for the next time I fuck one of you?” You said.
“I did make her cum.” Renjun walked out of the room, his bag on his back — seemingly the only one with his life together. “You could’ve too had you not been drunk out of  your mind.” He said, jeno and jaemin snickered on the side.
“I want to smack that smirk off his face.” Haechan grumbled, as renjun walked out of the apartment satisfied. “Don’t get all pouty, you’re still my good boy.” You teased. “Yah, I said don’t talk about that outside of the bedroom.” He said. “Wait does that mean I was the best?”
“Yn don’t answer that.” Jeno said, jaemin agreed. “please don’t.” You turned to the other boy who was waiting. “Answer it , I can take it.” He said. “You can’t bitch about it.” Jaemin scoffed. “He’s gonna do that anyway.”
“Just answer it.” He said, “no you weren’t the best at fucking me.” He frowned. “We told you.” Jeno said. “Are you serious? How could you be so cruel and say that?” He whined. “Be calm.” You said. “You didn’t even let me finish.” He flagged you off. “I don’t want to hear it.” He said.
“Was it jaemin?” Jeno asked. “No.” Jaemin didn’t seem so surprised. “I guess I gotta keep trying.” He said. “That’s the spirit.”
“Then who is it?” Haechan spoke up. “renjun or jeno?” he questioned. “if you say renjun im gonna kill myself.” You shook your head. “well if would’ve let me finish, you would’ve known that you and jaemin weren’t even in the race.” You said. “Why, are you that biased?” He argued.
“No dumbass because you two didn’t actually fuck me.”
Tumblr media
©️LUVYENI
3K notes · View notes
helluvapoison · 3 months
Text
Nice To Eat You
[ii]
The Vees x Cannibal!Reader
warnings: drugs, suggestive, rosie slander, dark themes, violence, security shenanigans and, hello, cannibalism
heads up: if you didn’t know, the people of cannibal town are hellborn; born in hell, never lived on earth, never sinned! their life spans are unknown(?) but seem to age as a human would, unlike other demons
Cannibal town has been off limits to The Vees, courtesy of Vox, ever since the incident with you know who. Meeting you was a suspicious surprise for them. You were kicked out of said town by Rosie for giving cannibals a bad name. Can you fucking believe the irony!?
ʕ•̫͡•ʕ•̫͡•ʔ��̫͡•ʔ•̫͡•ʕ•̫͡•ʔ•̫͡•ʕ•̫͡•ʕ•̫͡•ʔ•̫͡•ʔ•̫͡•ʕ•̫͡•ʔ•̫͡•ʔ
˚✧₊⁎ Vox ⁎⁺˳✧༚
• Suspicious might be an understatement
• For the longest time, Vox is unnerved by you for every other reason than your appetite. Anyone associated with Rosie is an adversary by proxy. If you take Alastor out of the picture, Rosie is still an Overlord and all Overlords will inevitably crumble to The Vees– even if they don’t know it yet
• There’s an expression for that though, isn’t there? Keep your enemies close. That’s exactly how Vox went about dealing with you
• Gives you a job as his security guard. Hell knows he needs one, what with the price of fame and all, those dirty fucking sinners that try and touch him wherever he goes
• It’s a slow development because neither of you initiate conversation
• Vox is beyond used to the rotating door of demons in and out of his life. He abandons the names of anyone that isn’t you, Velvette or Valentino (Angel Dust and Alastor he can’t forget against his will)
• Becoming attached to you while simultaneously waiting for the other shoe to drop is fucking awful. It feels it like a bug in his system, annoys him to the point his screen starts glitching one day
“Just what the fuck are you up to!? I know you’re with Rosie–”
You knew, on some level, Vox didn’t trust you all the way but it didn’t bother you because he hardly seems to trust anyone. So you cut him off with a mix of a snort and a scoff,
“Rosie? Rosie’s a cunt. She gave me the boot years ago, haven't seen her since.”
Involuntarily, he begins to smile, “Years, huh?”
• Trust is another slow endeavor. Now that Vox doubts your motives slightly less than before, he can silently appreciate the fact you do a damn good job of keeping demons away from him. Bonus: if you happen to take a chunk out of them for shits and giggles, blood never touches his pristine self
• “I believe I owe you an apology,”
“Am I going to get one?”
• In a way, sure, but you’ll be sorely disappointed if you thought it was with words. He invites you to dinner. From that moment until you arrive at the restaurant, he’s reveling in the constant state of shock you seem to be in
• Your eyebrows jump when the waiter nervously lifts the lid from your plate and reveals ribs. Real, demon ribs
“Surprised?” Vox asks rather smugly
“Somewhat,” You return his sly smirk, “Most can’t stomach my… indulgences.”
“I don’t have a stomach. I think I’ll be just fine.”
˚✧₊⁎ Velvette ⁎⁺˳✧༚
• Vel doesn’t give two steaming shits about Rosie or her backwards, unflattering town so long as it doesn’t interfere with her enterprise. Vox’s grudges are his own. If The Vees got hellbent and demented over each other’s EOTD (Enemy Of The Day) nothing would get done!
• During a pathetic comment war on the her social, a few threats became too detailed for Vox’s liking
• A cannibal wasn’t his first choice– or second, or third– but you’d certainly scare off anyone trying to hurt his business partner!
• Velvette’s far from worried about being lunch when she meets you.
• “You’re my–? No. Absolutely not! I can’t be seen with this.” She gestures to all of you
“You’re not exactly making me drool either,” You mutter under your breath
• Judging by the looks of her partners’ faces, stunning Velvette to silence was impossible. Key word: was
• It didn’t last long and hasn’t stopped since
• She pulled out every trick in the book to get you to quit. She gave you a uniform to wear during your shifts, tossed fabrics at you until you turned into a living clothes rack, forced you to hold her phone during her live streams but criticized and berated the way you did
• For fucks sake, she even screamed at Vox to let her fire you!
• You didn’t need her to like you and that was as obvious as it was infuriating. She was Velvette! Everyone loved her! Having you around was like a black eye; literally bruising her ego and bad for business
• Or so she thought
• She made you stand in the shadows of her studio so you wouldn’t frighten anyone and ruin photoshoots with your “freaky face” she so eloquently put it.
• Velvette was mid fashion crisis, yelling at Joanne for the gazillionth time, when you approached from behind
“I’m taking my lunch.”
“Fucking fantastic! Here, have Joanne since she insists on being fucking useless!”
Playing along, you let a guttural growl rip from your throat, making Joanne jump high in the air.
She squeaked and shook her head vigorously, holding her hands in surrender, “I-I’ll be better, I swear!”
• Her candy cane eyes widened in delighted surprise. How had she been so blind to your potential usefulness!?
• Velvette could get high off the new game she created with you. It was like having a scary guard dog– only better dressed to aesthetics. Paparazzi didn’t dare touch her now, standing at a respectable distance that made her more unattainable and desirable than before
• Her attitude change makes her like-able to you too, she’s heaps more pleasant to be around now. You don’t mind doing the extra stuff that wasn’t in your contract like being a dress up doll, dealing with the pet names or escorting her to events. She knows and takes advantage of this instead of saying how she feels
• “You’re my arm candy now, dollface! You go where I go.”
“I hardly think I qualify as arm candy,” You mumble to her, overtly aware of how she holds you close to her
“If you’re fishing for compliments, fuck off to another pond. I don’t waste my free time with uggos,” She says seriously, abruptly smiling as a camera flashes in her direction, “Now get ready. Fans have been dying to get a picture with me lately and if anyone smudges this dress with their dirty fucking fingers, I want you to bite them off!”
“Anyone that touches you won’t have hands tomorrow,” You promise
• You swear she shivers upon hearing that
˚✧₊⁎ Valentino ⁎⁺˳✧༚
• The easiest by far to get along with. In a mortifying way
• Val is fairly accepting of all Hell’s creatures. It’s typically followed up by something sexual but, hey, you’re not in a position to complain, not when no one else in Hell would willingly sign up to work with a cannibal. Especially one outside the confines of Rosie’s civil town
• Rosie’s loss is his gain
• You would be lying if you said you weren’t expecting him to turn horror-struck but he barely blinks when you explain what you did to get exiled. Your savage methods intrigue him, a plethora of potentials just waiting to be explored. In fact, he goes a step further to praise you for being different
• “Hell would be deathly boring if everyone thought the same way, darling. That’s what makes you so… alluring.” He rolled his tongue with the last word, dragging it out and making it ring in your ears
• You’d been called many things in your afterlife, but never that
• You feel rather useless at the moth’s side. You were supposed to be protecting him but he could take care of himself just fine. Val was about the tallest in every room (if not the tallest) with guns hidden under his coat that he never used
• Later you’d understand he only reached for them as a last resort, when his head was unclouded by blood lust
• If you ever voiced your complaints, he’d be quick to reassure you that you make him look good. What powerful Overlord doesn’t have bodyguards? (Do. Not. Answer.)
• However the day does come when you prove your services have merit. On set of all places! A coked up Hellhound didn’t take kindly to Val’s directions, sending a demon wielding a boom mic flying towards him
• Valentino dodged the demon with ease, whipping around and aiming his pistol to put the dog down. Instead he saw you pushing the mutt’s face into the ground, his arm pinned at an angle. Your sharp teeth were bared at his throat, drool dampening his fur
• But you made no moves without Valentino’s say-so
• There’s a lot he could say about the scenario you provided him and how it made him feel– but he only calls your name, beckoning you back to his side
• Where you belong
• “You’re lucky I don’t like hair in my food,” You growl in the Hellhound’s ear before following after Val
• Valentino may be a mastermind of porn and sex but he knows the real way to a demon’s heart, it’s is the universal love language
• Unbothered by blood, he’ll sit pretty and poised on his loveseat while you tear into the meal he provided you. A thanks for a job well done
• “You’ll never go hungry now that you’re with me, monstruo,” The pet name is dripping with adoration, “I won’t waste you like that bitch did. Look at you, you’re already so special.”
~
╰(*´︶`*)╯♡ i lost the request that went to this but i hope it reaches them. cannibal!reader got that rizz, huh?
1K notes · View notes
coryosbaby · 3 months
Note
i need more felix shit from u 😣😣
—Jealous Girl !
Fandom: ‘Saltburn’
Pairing: Felix Catton x fem! Best friend! Reader (also minor mentions of: Oliver quick x fem! Reader)
Synopsis: Tension and jealousy finally come to a head after you see your best friend Felix fucking another girl.
Content warning . Drug & alcohol use, watching without permission? possessiveness, friends to lovers with slight angst, dark! Ish reader // degradation & praise, facefucking, pnv, size kink, choking, breeding, mean! dom! Felix
Tumblr media Tumblr media Tumblr media
If you ever explain how your best friend usually treats you, it can only be summed up into one word: gentle.
He treats you like glass. A beautiful, priceless artifact that requires great care. He pays for everything you own— your dresses, handbags, shoes. Even where you live, the infamous Saltburn estate. Every time he speaks to you, it’s like he’s speaking to a pet— sweet, gentle, but commanding all at once. In his eyes, you’re an innocent angel…or, as he puts it, a sweet bunny.
And you fucking hate it.
It doesn’t bother you in the sense that Felix cares for you; quite the contrary, in fact. You like his warmth, how protective he is, how sweet and kind he can be.
But he treats you too kindly. Too much like his other friends, too much like his sister, too much like a companion.
Not enough like a lover.
It seems that he’s completely oblivious to your longing stares, the way you follow him around and practically worship the ground he walks on. He never seems to grasp why you sit in his lap at parties, squirming around just a little too much, or why you cuddle up to him in his room when you’ve had a nightmare in your skimpy nightdress. He stares off into a space between and kisses girls right in front of you.
You want him to treat you like the sluts he brings home.
The whispers of how the boy fucks is something you’ve grown accustomed to. The girls you had become acquainted with who had slept with him, giggling to you about how much of a good lay he was. How mean, how brutal he was. How big he was.
‘This doesn’t bother you, does it? God, I know it’s weird because he’s your best friend ‘n all, but I don’t understand why you haven’t done him yet. I would’ve thought… y’know, given how close you two are...’
It makes you sick, knowing he does it to other girls and not you.
And now, sitting on a couch at one of Felix’s infamous Saltburn parties, you watch as he does it once again.
Your nose slides across the glass table in front of you. Two people sit beside you, making friendly conversation, but you can’t focus on them. Your nose is filled to the brim with glittery white powder as you stare at Felix’s new side piece through your faux lashes.
He’s got her in his lap, this girl. Olivia is her name, or something like that. You don’t like her. She’s too needy, clinging onto him a little too much for just a simple hookup. His hand grabs her hip as she presses kisses to his neck. He’s laughing, splayed across the leather couch across from you, as she whispers dirty phrases into his ear. You can tell that that’s what she’s doing because she’s grinding against him like a bitch in heat. It makes you stomach churn.
“(Y/N!)”
Your head looks up, and Farleigh stands in front of you. You give him a smile, though it’s mostly fake. You love him, but you can’t stop thinking about Felix.
Felix and her.
Farleigh chats with you about some guy he’s about to go and hook up with, telling you his whereabouts as a safety precaution. You nod to him as he leaves.
Felix has his hand up her skirt, now. He’s gripping her ass and rocking up into her clothed cunt.
You can’t look any longer.
You stumble to your feet, the room spinning a bit before turning to normal. An intoxicated kind of giddiness flows through you, and you brush past the couch and try to get Felix off your mind. You spot one of his new companions— Oliver. He’s quite handsome, you think. A little weird, a little quiet, but he’ll do for sure.
It isn’t long before you’ve got him in between your thighs in an empty corridor, a buzz flowing from your toes up to the crown of your head as he thrusts his tongue mercilessly into your drenched heat. He draws circles into your clit and laps at you like he’s parched. Oh, he’s good. Practiced, precise. He loves to please.
But he isn’t Felix.
Although Oliver’s tongue is skilled, it isn’t necessarily that that gets you to your peak. When you cum, you think of a familiar brunette with an eyebrow piercing, a wide smile, and dreamy eyes.
You let Oliver fuck you against the wall, after that.
It feels good. He’s big, rough, mean. Just how you like it.
Just how you want Felix to be.
You decide not to return to the party.
Your bare feet pad against the tiles of the Saltburn estate, your heels in your hand . The hallway is empty, save for one or two stragglers. No one really comes to this side of the house. You’re attempting to walk— or in this case, stumble— to your room. But everything is blurry, your feet dancing, and—
Shit, is this even your hallway?
You don’t know, really. You’re drunk, high. You don’t give a shit.
Your fingers are dancing across the walls, admiring the intricate paintings placed on each one. You lick your lips and taste a tequila shot, your dress askew. Fuck it.
You’re admiring The Fallen Angel by Alexandra Cabanel when you hear them.
It starts out slow— a deep, guttural moan, from the door to your left. It translates into a familiar voice, growling.
“What?” It teases. “Is my cock too much for you? Too big, huh?”
And then another sound comes through the thin walls and slightly opened door. A high pitched whine, pleading.
“Felix! Please, it feels so good.”
Your brows furrow. Drunken confusion. You silently creep up to the door, wondering. Your eyes peek through at the scene.
The color drains from your face.
Of course it’s Felix. Felix and her.
He’s got her bent over an expensive wood table. He’s pulling her hair, pressing his hips into her with every push and pull. She’s got her mouth open as her eyes roll back in ecstasy, and her cunt swallows him whole.
Your shoes drop to the ground in utter shock.
Now that seems to grab the pair’s attention. Felix looks back, and his eyes catch your dilated ones. He curses, slipping out of her and trying to conceal himself as he pulls his pants up. The girl catches sight of you, too, and she’s instantly pulling down her top and throwing her clothes on.
“Christ, Bunny!” Felix exclaims, flushed. “The fuck are you doing all the way over here?”
Your bottom lip wobbles, but you won’t cry. Not in front of him. Not in front of his whore.
You turn before you even know what you’re doing, and you scurry away from the scene with tears running hotly down your cheeks.
So much for parties.
When you wake in the morning, you’ve got a pounding headache and you’re sprawled out on your bed.
Your body aches, and you whine as you turn over on your side. The memories of last night flood back into your psyche, and you want to throw up. Of course the one thing you don’t want to remember is buried so prominently into your skull that it’s the first thing you think about.
It’s not like Felix hasn’t fucked anyone before. But seeing it, actually watching him do it to another girl, makes you sick. You don’t know how you’re going to look him in the eye at breakfast.
You stand up on wobbly legs. You make your way to the bathroom, throw your guts up at least twice, and then brush your teeth. A warm shower calms you down, though your head still hurts. You’ll have to take some ibuprofen later.
You make your way to the dining room in a juicy tracksuit and brown ugg boots. You slide a pair of sunnies on your face to protect you from the blinding sun, letting out a pained moan when it shines through the large stain glass window.
“Good morning, sunshine!” Farleigh coos from the table. You give him the middle finger before plopping down in a seat beside Oliver. His eyes scan over you, taking in your appearance. His knee bumps against yours, and he whispers a quiet ‘good morning’ to you.
God, he’s a clingy little shit, isn’t he?
Felix’s eyes follow your every move. Usually you sit next to him in the mornings, but as of right now, why bother? The closer to get to him, the more vivid the image of him fucking her comes into your mind.
You swallow down a few pieces of toast and some orange juice. Elsbeth is talking about a party reserved for Oliver for his birthday, one that they will host this weekend. How absolutely and utterly fan-fucking-tastic.
Oh, well. You’ll be able to dress up, at least. That’ll probably be the best part.
You ignore Felix for the entirety of the day. There’s still that fire coiling in your gut everytime you look at him, that hot bubble of rage and jealousy. Oliver looks up at you through long eyelashes during a game of tennis, and you find the way to satiate that heat.
It’s an awful idea. A terrible, mean, despicable idea.
You knew Felix would be out. It was around five pm— the time when he usually begins coming back to the house from his afternoon run. He would be back in twenty to thirty minutes.
“You’re incredibly fucked. Do you know that?”
Oliver whispers it huskily, pleased, as you push him down on a set of familiar satin sheets. You smirk, your cunt grinding down onto him.
“And you’re not?”
He grunts as you unbutton his shirt. You kiss down his chest, soon getting rid of your bra and top. You rock back on him slowly, teasing. His hand moves around to grope your ass, but you grab ahold of his wrist.
“Are you going to behave?”
A smirk plays on his lips. You want to slap it off of him.
“No.”
You snake your hand down to his bulge, giving it a considerable squeeze. He lets out a tiny gasp, biting his lower lip.
“What was that?” You say, almost threatening.
He gulps. He looks almost cute with the blush dusting across his face.
“Yes.” he whispers. You ghost your fingers over his waistband.
“What was that?”
“Yes, I’ll behave.”
He hisses it, and you’re pleased.
“Good boy.”
And then when he’s inside you, you bounce on him like your life depends on it. You look up above Felix’s bed, at the framed picture of you and him. He had hung it up, and for that you’re thankful. You concentrate on the way photo Felix’s fingers tightly grip a shot glass. Oliver lets out tiny whines as you clench around his cock, and you grind your clit against the base of him. You know that Felix catches you both when you look back at the slightly cracked door and see him there— blue headband, muscle tee and shorts. When you lock eyes, he moves away from the door and down the hall with a clenched jaw and cheeks blooming red.
The days pass from one into three, and soon it’s Oliver’s birthday. Felix has avoided you, much to your dismay. You thought he would give in sooner. If you didn’t know any better, you would think that he was trying to pretend the situation didn’t happen altogether. But the hard stare he gives you whenever he sees you, the clenching of his hands, and the plain ignorance of your presence gives him away.
You’ve decided to dress as a Bunny for Oliver’s infamous costume party. Your favorite animal, but also another way to piss Felix off. Wearing a pink bodysuit, sparkly fishnets, and pink bunny ears, you make your way into the party beside Venetia, who’s ranting about her current situationship with some girl she met at a club. Scanning the crowd, you take notice of Felix from across the room. Angel wings sit on his shoulders, his eyes lined with a black eye pencil. He’s wearing a white wifebeater.
You go to the bar and take a few shots to stifle your nerves. Felix’s eyes follow you as you grab a bottle from the bartender and make your way outside.
It isn’t long before you’re absolutely plastered. Giggling to yourself, you make your way towards the hedge maze in the backyard. Felix’s voice, the one he hasn’t used to talk to you directly for a few days, interrupts your diddle daddling.
“We need to talk.”
You keep walking, him trailing behind you.
“I don’t know what you’re talking about, Felix.”
His big hand grabbing your arm and spinning you around to look at him surprises you. He glares.
“You know exactly what I’m talking about.”
You back away, winding through the labyrinth of bushes. Felix groans as you begin to skip around each corner.
“This isn’t a game, y’know!” He calls, as he tries his best to keep up with you. It isn’t long before you’re both standing in the middle of the maze. The stone statue overpowers the both of your bodies as it leers down in a violent pose. You smile crookedly when Felix stalks over to you, making a beeline for the other side of the statue. It doesn’t seem to be funny to him.
He catches you when you least expect it, grabbing you by the shoulders.
“What the fuck is wrong with you, (Y/N)?!”
He yells it, infuriated, deep vocal cords strumming. It makes you jump. He never calls you by your real name.
He purses his lips, anger evident on his face as you smile up at him still.
“‘M jus’ having fun, Fel. Whats wrong with that?”
“What’s— what’s wrong with—“ he laughs, dry and humorless, as he pushes you away from him. “Whats wrong is that you fucked my friend in my room! What the hell went through your head?!“
You clench your teeth.
“I don’t know, Felix,” you utter sarcastically. “I really don’t know. Call it irritational horniness. But tell me. Are you mad? For once, once in your fucking life, are you mad?”
“Of course I’m mad!” he seethes, as if it’s obvious. “But why do you want that? What prompted this?”
You avert from his piercing gaze, turning your back on him. Your cheeks are flaring with heat from how he’s treating you, your inner thighs wet and sticky.
God, this is so wrong.
“I think you know.”
Genuinely confused, Felix throws up his hands. He’s exasperated.
“No, I don’t. I don’t, (Y/N), so tell me. Tell me the damn truth!”
“The truth?” You say, finally. “‘S that what you want?”
You whirl around, anger finally taking over in your usually pliant, doe eyes.
“The truth, Felix, is that you treat me like a kid!” You yell. Your voice cracks, and you hate it. “You treat me like a fucking child! Like your friend! Like a… like a—“
Your breath heaves, and you try to find the words you’re looking for. Felix looks at you, his brows furrowed.
You can’t open your mouth anymore, too distraught, too open. You’re saying all the things you promised you’d keep buried deep inside you.
Felix takes a step forward. You take a step back. Your lower back hits the stone statue, and you wince at the way it digs into your skin.
“What are you saying?” He asks, careful with his words. You laugh bitterly in his face— at least, as close as you can get to his face. He towers over you like a giant.
“I’m saying that after all this time, after all these years, I thought you’d notice how badly I want you. But clearly not, with the way I caught you fucking that cunt last weekend.”
The words finally come out— slurred because of your drunkenness, dry because you’ve given up. You’ve given up on Felix, on the possibility of him ever returning the feelings you’ve always had for him. You’ve given up on your friendship, on his kindness. You don’t want it anymore. Why continue this if it’s only going to hurt you?
The boy is stunned into silence for a mere moment.
“What?”
You turn away from his stare, looking down at the ground.
“You heard me, Felix.”
His eyes follow your lips, nose, eyes. His lips part ever so slightly, and his eyes are so dark that they’re almost black as realization settles over him.
“So that’s what you want?”
It comes out hushed, like a secret. His breath is hot against your lips as he leans in close to you.
“All this time you’ve been acting like this.. all because you want me to fuck you? Because you’re jealous?”
You stare up at him in a daze, silent. Your cheeks flare with embarrassment. You jump when Felix lets out a chuckle, something grating and deep, that permeates your bones and worms its way inside your guts.
“God, you’re sick.”
He scoffs, moving forward on his long legs. His big hand wraps itself around your hair and tugs. You let out a gasp as he tilts your head back, the burn of your scalp making your legs clench together.
“You’ve been torturing me for weeks—“ he spits, yanking at the roots of your hair even harder, and you let out a squeak. “— Not speaking to me, making me question what I could’ve possibly done wrong, fucking my friend in my bed, all because you want to me treat you like some whore?“
Your mouth gapes open, and you’re frozen like a deer in headlights as Felix finally gives you what you want. He continues to speak, but not before his knee is coming up to rub in between your thighs. It’s such a sudden movement, so aggressive, that your legs buckle and you grab onto his shoulders for purchase. His hands splay across your hips, moving you in tandem across the fabric of his jeans.
“Don’t worry.” He says. “You’ll never have to worry about that again.”
“Felix—” you start, but his hand slapping you clear across the face makes you lose all words. Your cheek flares with heat from his hand coming down on it, and you grasp the red mark in pain.
“Was he good?” he growls, grabbing the hand touching your face and putting it in his much larger one. He places it over his crotch, and you feel the giant bulge against the fabric. “Was he as big as me? Did he fuck you the way you thought I would?”
You shake, stuttering on every phrase in your vocabulary. Felix grinds into your hand.
“You think that I don’t want you like this?”
It comes out strained, tortured. Like it’s painful for you to even assume that. Your mouth waters at the feeling of his girth underneath your palm.
“I’ve never been this hard for anyone,” he breathes. “I jerked my cock every night when you were in my bed because I thought it was the closest I could get to you. I fucking…God, do you even know what you do me?“
He works his thigh against your pussy, and you whine desperately as you pull away from his assault on you. You kiss your way down his chest, worship his body, lave your tongue over the skin peeking out from his unbuttoned shirt as you sink down to your knees. Your hands fumble with his belt, waiting for the moment when his cock will be released and you’ll finally get what you’ve been begging for. He grunts, tilting his head as he watches you desperately fumble with the leather around his waist.
“Already trying to suck me off? You’re even more pathetic than I thought.”
You press your mouth against his thigh and practically drool at his words. He looks down at you like a God, golden angel wings splaying out in the moonlight for you to gape at. How ironic it is, that he decided to wear this costume tonight.
“All for you, Felix,” you say, pulling his cock out of the confines of his jeans. You gape at his impressive length.
“That’s right,” he agrees, his thumb brushing over your lip. “Now put me in your mouth. Show me how much of a fucking slut you are.”
You do as you’re told, tongue lolling out to lick a stripe up his shaft. He clenches his jaw, watching as you hold eye contact with him when you take his dick into the warm, wet confines of your mouth. His hand wraps around the nape of your neck and he pushes you down onto him. Choking, your nose hits the soft bed of pubic hair trimmed neatly at his base. Your eyes roll back as he begins to fuck your throat, pleasure and electricity flowing through your head and down to your toes. The corners of your mouth burn as he stretches out your mouth.
“Didn’t know you could take dick so good,” Felix muses, his balls slapping against your chin. “If I would’ve known how badly you wanted this, I would’ve slid my cock inside you the night you caught me with that girl.”
That girl. He can’t even remember her name. It satisfies something dark that’s been blooming in you since you saw him sticking his dick where it didn’t belong.
You moan around him, spit trailing down your neck as you tongue at his slit. Your hands grip his big, meaty thighs, and it occurs to you just how strong he is. He could break you, rip you apart piece by piece, and you couldn’t do anything about it. The thought arouses you to no end.
“You pissed me off so fuckin’ much that night, y’know that?” He rambles, his thighs squeezing the sides of your face. He’s practically trapping you against his cock, and you try your hardest to breathe through your nose but you can feel your vision blurring at the edges. “You caught me in the middle of it, didn’t even say sorry. Didn’t help me finish. You’re a sick little bitch for watching me fuck her. I bet you touched yourself after that, didn’t you? Touched your little cunt thinking about the way I used her?”
You whimper around him, your fingers attempting to move down and rub against your clit. But Felix lets out a sound in the back of his throat and kicks your hand away.
“Don’t. You don’t get to cum tonight. You put your hands on me, or you don’t put them on anything at all.”
Your hands wrap around the back of his thighs, then, as you hollow your cheeks around him. You’ll do anything he demands you to.
After a long moment of being face fucked with only a few breathing breaks in between, your throat is scratchy and raw. Felix yanks you off of him, and you wheeze as you’re thrown to the ground, your hand going to your throat as your eyes drip with citrine tears. Felix stands for a moment to let you catch your breath. He’s still your best friend, after all— he cares about your well being, as angry as he is right now.
It isn’t long, however, before he’s grabbing you up by your elbow and bending you over the marble statue. Your cheek lands on the cold stone, the crotch of your bodysuit is ripped open, exposing your lace panties and the fat globes of your ass. You stick yourself out for him, moaning as he rips your underwear off of you and throws it on the ground. He spreads your legs and coos at your dripping cunt.
“Oh, look at that,” his fingers go to either side of your pussy lips, spreading them apart and revealing your teeny tiny hole. “It’s clenching s’much, isn’t it, sweetheart? It’s all swollen ‘n red. It’s been so worked up all night, I bet.”
“Felix,” you cry, a blubbering mess. “Please.”
He chuckles, rubbing the tip of his finger against your clit. You quiver underneath his touch, gasping when his aching cockhead suddenly brushes up against your entrance.
“I want to know how badly you want me. Tell me, darling. Tell me how pathetic you are.”
“I want it,” your voice comes out small, weak. “I want you to fuck me until I can’t feel my legs. Wan’ you to stretch me out on your fat cock, Felix. Give it t’me, pleasepleaseplease…”
He lets out a dreamy sigh, feeling you trying to clench around the tip of his cock, trying to suck him in. Your head is fuzzy, your cunt throbbing. You need him more than you need air.
“Okay,” he lets out, whispering. It’s an oddly gentle tone, and you know it’s because this situation could change the outcome of your friendship forever. “Okay, sweetheart.”
He pushes forward, the fat tip of his cock popping into your entrance, and you let out a mewl. Felix is big, and not just in his height or his shoulders. He stretches you so deliciously to the point where it’s borderline painful.
“Oh my god,” he grits his teeth, his head tipping back. “God, you’re a tight little thing. So tiny..”
You know he’s talking to your pussy now, drunk off the way you’re wrapping around his shaft. He moves slow, gentle strokes against your aching pussy, his fingers digging bruises into your hips as he struggles to contain himself.
Your cheek is smushed against the hard surface below you, but that doesn’t stop you from speaking.
“It’s okay,” you assure him, moaning. “Destroy me, rip me apart.. I don’t care, Felix.”
He moans along with you, a sound of pure, unleashed pleasure. His hips speed up, and he fucks into your cunt with reckless abandon as your nails dig into the marble below you. His cock is so deep that you can almost feel him in your throat.
He angles at a spot inside that has you keening, your hips fucking back onto him as he rams into you. Your nails scrape against the statue, tears running down your cheeks.
“Felix,” you moan out, but it’s hard to speak as the breath is being knocked out of you.
“Mmm,” he hums, grabbing your hips. “‘M gonna cum. ‘M gonna cum in your sweet little pussy.”
“Please,” you gasp. “Please, fill me up, fill up my pussy!”
“That’s what you want, isn’t it?” His arms lift your body up, and his biceps curl around your neck. Your eyes widen as he tightens his grip, placing you in a chokehold underneath him. His hips slap against yours, his steady words bordering on a whine. “You want me to cum inside you? Get you all pregnant and full? Mmm, that’d be a pretty sight, wouldn’t it…”
You clench down on him. He growls, a sigh of your name tumbling out of his mouth. His hips stutter. And with one last harsh thrust, he’s cumming. His warmth fills you to the brim and spills over the cusp as he fucks into you, teeth scraping against your neck as he bites down and leaves a mark. Sweat drips drown your temple, small pants escaping your lips as you try to swallow oxygen into your lungs. Felix’s arms are still wrapped around you neck, but they aren’t wrapped tight enough to cut off your air completely.
Definitely tight enough to bruise, though.
He slows, after a few more moments. You still grind onto his overstimulated cock, and he squeezes your throat in warning.
“What did I tell you? You don’t get to cum tonight.”
Your face becomes blotchy with tears, and you sob as he pulls out of you. His cum spills down onto the concrete floor, your pussy gushing with his seed, and you want to scream.
“But Felix,” you babble, grabbing onto his arm as he tucks himself back into his pants. “No, baby, please—“
“This is what you wanted,” he replies, nonchalant, as if he didn’t just fuck your brains out. His glances down at the creamy spend that had fallen out of you and onto the ground. Grabbing you by your hair, he pushes you down onto your knees. He gestures to his cum, licking his lips.
“Now clean that up,” he demands. “Wouldn’t want to leave a mess, would we?”
Tumblr media
:: @mysticpenguincreation @nightmare-niko @iheartinkonpaper @claireyberryy @becauseseaotters @emmalandry
2K notes · View notes
cupid-styles · 5 months
Text
only angel 2 (tattoorry/plugrry)
Tumblr media
part two of tattorry is here!!!!! read part one here
in which y/n's parents still suck, harry can't stop thinking about his girl, and maybe there's a chance this'll all work out
word count: 8.5k
content warnings: angst (all solved in the end!), minor mentions of dieting/controlled eating, y/n has really awful parents (spoiler: there is one scene where her mom slaps her), weed mentions, a terrible date (one minor but inappropriate scene with unwanted non-sexual touching), smut (fingering, f receiving oral, dirty talk, spitting, tiniest bit of daddy kink)
masterlist | talk to me
. . .
As soon as Y/N's mother zeroes in on Harry's grasp around her daughter's waist, everything moves at a blurry pace. 
In an instant, her hand is curled around Y/N's wrist, yanking her away from one of the only sources of comfort she's ever had. She gasps when she pulls her through the door and outside the bookstore, bile rising in her throat as her brain slowly pieces things together. She got caught. Applying to a job. With Harry holding her hand.
She's never going to be able to see him again.
Harry's quick to follow them outside, his mind whirring just as quickly.
"Excuse me!" he calls out as Y/N's mom drops her grasp from her, a stern expression on her face. She doesn't even look in Harry's direction but Y/N immediately blinks at him, her eyes wide with fear. "Excuse me, are you Y/N's mom?"
"Who the hell are you?" she hisses, instantly batting him away the second he takes a step forward. Y/N's chest feels tight as she clamors for words, panic rising in her throat.
"My name is Harry. I know your daughter—"
"Like hell you do." she spits, her eyes squinted and beady as she looks over Harry's appearance. It's clear on Y/N's face that she's never been this mortified before, but she can only hope it's because she got caught, not because she got caught with Harry. "I don't know what nonsense you've gotten yourself into, Y/N, but consider it done. We're going home."
The words are on the tip of Y/N's tongue — no, stop, please, I care about him, you don't understand — but the fear of her mother is too paralyzing. Again, her manicured fingers wrap tightly around Y/N's wrist and she pulls at her, making her stumble. 
"Wait— Y/N, you can't seriously—"
"Enough," her mom sneers, tightening her grip, "What do you want? Money? Is that what you're after?"
"What?! No, I told you, I know Y/N—"
"Do you go to school with her? She knows better than to socialize with tattooed lowlives."
His jaw drops and his eyes dart back and forth from Y/N to her mother. Tears line her waterline and she sniffles, looking helpless and desperate — and Harry knows, he can see it right in front of his face how awful her parents are, that they're blatantly abusive and terrible people just because they have money, but for the first time, he actually feels anger bubble up in his throat. Not at her mom, but at Y/N.
"No, I don't go to school with her. Y/N, are you seriously going to let her talk to me like that?" he asks, an unusually harsh edge sharpening his voice. 
Since this entire thing began, there's space for Y/N to speak — to potentially defend herself, defend Harry, or to do what she's always done and follow her mother's orders. She knows what she wants to do. Harry knows what he wants her to do.
But instead of taking any action, she flounders.
Harry can see it in her eyes — panic ravishing her body as she opens and closes her mouth like a fish. Normally, he'll tease her for that, but this time, he would do anything to hear her say something. Anything. 
"Clearly you don't know one another at all. Y/N, we're going home. Now."
With a final yank, Y/N falls pliant in her mother's wishes, following her down the street to wherever her car is parked. Harry watches them walk away, sure that she'll turn around and come running back to him.
It's only when their forms become mixed in with the rest of the busy Manhattan sidewalk, little blobs he can barely make out, that he realizes she's not. 
. . .
Y/N doesn't think she's ever felt so shitty in her life.
Her parents have disciplined her in the past for much smaller things — taking her car to campus, missing one of the dates they set up for her. Punishment always came in the form of the silent treatment paired with the confiscation of her car keys and the understanding that she was forbidden to leave the apartment. 
This time is so much worse. 
The second her mother unlocks her car and Y/N climbs in, she's on the receiving end of a piercing slap. She immediately winces and reaches up to cup her stinging cheek, tears streaming down her face from the image of Harry's hurt expression permanently seared into her memory. When she looks at the woman, she's seething.
"You're a disgrace."
Those are the only words she speaks to her the entire drive home.
When they get home, her mother is quick to lay down the ground rules: She's done with graduate school — according to her, they trusted her to know better and solely focus on her education, but they can't rely on her any longer. She'll start working at their company immediately. She'll go out on a date with Arthur Franklin, do what he wants, and marry into their family as soon as humanly possible. And lastly, she's never to be seen with "that boy" or anyone who looks like him ever again.
In two minutes, her life is drawn out for her in the most terrifying way. But she doesn't fight her. She knows it's a losing battle — one that her mother has been winning her entire life. Harry gave her a beautiful experience. He showed her what her life could have been like if she wasn't so scared. 
And when she goes to bed that evening, without dinner of course (her parents gave Freya strict instructions not to make her a portion or allow her to cook anything in the kitchen), she cries for him.
She lets her tears soak into her pillow, dampening the fabric with every sob that breaks free from her chest, and desperately hopes that he doesn't hate her, even if she never sees him again. 
. . .
To: Y/N, 11.19.23, 11:32 a.m.
It's been a few days.. just checking in to make sure you're doing okay.
To: Y/N, 11.20.23, 8:49 a.m.
Please just send me a text so I know you're alright. 
To: Y/N, 11.22.23, 10:28 p.m.
Hey. I'm gonna wait outside your lecture hall tomorrow. I need to know you're okay. Please tell me if you don't want me to come, but I really need to see you. 
To: Y/N, 11.23.23, 4:03 p.m.
Did you skip class today?
To: Y/N, 11.26.23, 1:28 a.m.
If you're avoiding me, that's fine, but this is driving me insane... please just give me a sign or something so I know you're okay. Please Y/N. You can't do this.
. . .
"I just think your father is a great businessman! He's one of the smartest men I've ever worked for and I think we could do something incredible together. Don't you think?"
Y/N gulps down another large sip of wine, flashing a tight smile to Arthur. She never drinks, but she decided that if she was getting through the night, alcohol would serve as a much-needed crutch. They're currently at some smarmy restaurant on the Upper East Side — apparently there's a waitlist of three months, but Arthur was able to just "make a call" and get them a reservation. Y/N thinks she was supposed to be impressed by that, but she could really care less.
It's been a week and a half since she saw Harry last. She never knew heartbreak could be so excruciating, but that line of thinking occurred before she met him. 
In the 27 minutes since their date began — yes, Y/N's been counting — Arthur has only talked about her father. How incredible and smart he is, how he runs such a great business, how he can't wait to have a higher position in the company. 
"Did you hear me?" Arthur asks, stuffing another piece of bread in his mouth. 
"Yeah," she says curtly. "Sorry, did you want me to call my father so you could date him instead?"
Arthur forces out an awkward laugh. "You know, your mom said you had an unusual sense of humor... guess that's just part of your charm, huh?"
Y/N shrugs her shoulders as she picks at her pasta. She's looking straight ahead, eyes empty and zoning out when she thinks she sees a familiar head of long, unruly curls. She perks up, straightening her posture, ignoring Arthur when he assumes her change in body language is in response to whatever nonsense he's droning on about. 
She wills the figure to turn around, her heart tugging — but when he does a mere moment later, she realizes it's not him, just someone with a similar haircut. Her shoulders slump, blinking as she watches the man gently guide his date to their table. 
"Are you okay?" 
Snapping out of her thoughts, she redirects her attention to Arthur. She swallows and nods her head. 
"Yeah. Sorry, thought I saw someone I know."
He hums. "Hm, probably not. Like I said, this restaurant a three-month long waitlist. No one you know could be here."
"Right." she mutters. She drops her fork, suddenly feeling sick, and Arthur's eyes snap up at the clattering sound the metal makes against the ceramic plate. 
"Be careful," he hisses, "This is a nice place, Y/N."
The sting to his tone is instantly reminiscent of her own parents' discipline. She cowers, mumbling out a half-hearted apology, and when she looks up to see his squinted eyes analyzing her every feature, anxiety is quick to spread through her chest and up her throat.
She knew it before tonight — that Arthur was essentially just an extension of her parents, but the fear and apprehension of leaving her family was too paralyzing. But in an instant, it clicked. 
Sitting across from her, Arthur just looks so mean. A curl to his lips, an expression of disgust painted across his face as he studies her, his mouth open in preparation to scold her again. 
She can't do this for the rest of her life. 
She refuses to do this for the rest of her life. 
Her heart is beating out of her chest, shaky hands grabbing the napkin folded neatly in her lap. She places it on the table, moving slowly in hopes that he won't notice, even if she knows it's impossible. 
"What are you doing?"  he asks tightly, eyebrows lowering as she stands from the table. 
"I... I have to do something," Y/N mumbles, "I'm sorry. I have to go."
"What?" Arthur snaps, digging into his pocket to grab his wallet, throwing a few hundred dollar bills down on the table as she rushes out of the restaurant. He's quick to follow her, his stride much larger and faster than hers. He reaches out to grab her elbow and pulls her form to press against his body in the entryway. She gasps out in surprise, freezing her movements. 
"Where are you going?" Arthur repeats through gritted teeth. "We're not done. We're on a date, Y/N."
She swallows and shakes her head jerkily, "I have to do something, I'm sorry, please let me go—"
"Your parents made a deal with me." he says, nostrils flaring, "You're done running. You're mine now."
Her stomach drops. A deal? She's not some kind of pawn in their game and she's not an object that can be moved around whenever they want. In an act of anger, she yanks her arm away from his grasp, taking a step back. 
"I'm not yours. I'm not anybody's. Whatever deal you made with my parents is off."
She grabs the door handle and pushes it open, leaving Arthur — and whatever fucked up future they had planned for her — behind. 
. . .
Harry hasn't been sleeping well. 
It's from a combination of factors, but primarily, it's being on the receiving end of Y/N's silent treatment. He didn't think she would ever do this to him, but maybe he was too naive, looking at their relationship through rose-colored lenses and assuming she'd be strong enough to reject her parents in favor of him.
How stupid.
He sighs and glances at the clock on the wall of his office. When he was seeing Y/N, he never stayed at the shop later than 6 or 7, usually because she wanted to get home before her parents started to wonder. These days, he stays behind until midnight, trying to occupy himself with work so he doesn't have to go home and think about her.
And at first, he thinks he's hallucinating. Who would be knocking on the door to the shop at 9:30, especially with the clear and apparent closed sign? But then the fists get louder, and he wonders if it's someone drunk or high, looking to get a tattoo. (That certainly wouldn't be happening.)
Finally, he hears it — the faintest of familiar voices calling out his name, and he realizes he may not be imagining it. 
He forces himself out, taking large footsteps to the front, his heart beating rapidly when he sees the helpless girl pounding on the door. Quickly, he unlocks it through furrowed brows, immediately letting her in when he sees the distress on her face. 
"What's wrong?" he asks immediately, pulling Y/N inside. "What happened?"
Dried tears leave marks down the apples of her cheeks, her mascara clumpy and stained around her eyes. She sniffles and shakes her head. "I'm so sorry, Harry."
"Y/N, what's going on?" he repeats before locking the door back up. Carefully, he places a hand to the small of her back and guides her to the back, where his office is. He wordlessly encourages her to sit down on the blue velvet couch, grabbing a bottle of water from the mini fridge and handing it to her. 
"They're awful," she stammers, "My parents... I'm so sorry, Harry."
"Just tell me what happened," Harry murmurs, carefully rubbing the area between her shoulder blades, "Why are you crying? Did they do something? Are you hurt?"
She shrugs, eyes falling to her lap. "Everything's been terrible." she whispers. "They had me go on a date with someone they want me to marry — when I wanted to leave, he told me that my parents made a deal with him. That I'm his now."
"A deal?" Harry repeats, anger quickly bubbling under his skin, "What does that fucking mean?"
"I don't know. I didn't know about it until tonight."
"Did he do anything to you?" he asks, doing a quick once-over of her appearance. She doesn't look hurt, but she does look beautiful. It makes jealousy rise from the pit of his stomach, knowing she got dressed up for somebody else.
"No. He was really mean, but," she sniffles, shrugging again, "I don't know. He grabbed me."
"Where?" Harry growls. "Where did he grab you?"
Her eyes widen, "J-just my arm. When I was trying to leave, he, um, grabbed my elbow and pulled me back against him."
"Let me see."
Y/N wants to tell him that she's fine, immediately trying to downplay the act, but on the cab ride over, she had time to process how gross it made her feel. That he felt it was appropriate to touch her in that way just because she didn't want to be there — so she allows him to cautiously push up the sleeve of her sweater, analyzing the slightly reddened skin where his hand had been. 
"You're not seeing him again," he mutters, carefully putting her arm down. He reaches over into his desk drawer and grabs a small container of Neosporin, dabbing a bit on the mark and rubbing it in with gentle fingertips. "I don't care if your parents want you to marry him. You will not be with someone who hurts you, Y/N."
"I know," she whispers, "I told him that I wasn't his. That whatever deal they had is off."
Harry's eyes widen. "You did?"
"Yes." she nods sullenly, "I realized that... well, I wanted to leave because I wanted to come see you. I don't want them to control me anymore. I want my own life."
"That's... that's huge, Y/N," Harry murmurs, resisting the urge to surge forward and wrap his arms around her, "What are you gonna do?"
She shrugs. "I haven't gotten that far yet, I guess. But the first step was seeing you and apologizing for that day with my mom."
"It hurt," he admits quietly. "Seeing you walk away... but I guess I didn't fully understand just how bad it was."
"I never wanted to walk away. They just scare me so much. She... she slapped me when we got in the car."
"Dovie," Harry breathes out, the pet name slipping from his mouth, "That's unacceptable, you know that, right? They're abusive."
"I do. I know they're bad." she pauses, swallowing harshly. "I don't want to go back there tonight."
Harry shakes his head. "You're never going back there at all." 
. . .
Harry's apartment is cozy. 
Y/N should have assumed as much, being that his mere presence essentially feels like a warm hug. But when he takes her back to his place and he hesitantly locks the door, murmuring out an apology about how messy things are, she can't but smile gently at all the very Harry decor touches: A record player next to a large collection of his favorite albums, framed pictures and polaroids tacked up onto his fridge of his friends, family, and loved ones, and just about ten cozy throw blankets and pillows strewn across his couch. 
He apologizes for how small it is and Y/N scoffs — she couldn't care less about the size of his place, instead being completely enamored by the fact that it's his.
She's analyzing the refrigerator door, eyes glued to a photo strip of him and his sister when she feels a gentle hand at her hip, giving it a squeeze. 
"Do you wanna change, dove?" Harry asks quietly, his breath ghosting over the back of her neck. 
She nods, pinching at the fabric of her dress. Suddenly, her tights feel too restrictive and her feet ache from the heels her mother forced her into hours earlier. 
"I don't have any clothes, though."
He chuckles lightly. "I can give you some, silly." 
"Are you sure?" Y/N asks, turning to look at him. Her lips part nervously when she sees how close he is to her. "You're already doing so much for me tonight."
"What, would you prefer to waltz around naked, then?"
Her signature blush appears in seconds and it makes a lopsided grin appear nearly instantly on Harry's face. He can tell that she's about to whine his name out in her typical chagrined way and he laughs. 
"Kidding, princess," he mumbles, "But I wouldn't mind if you wanted to."
"You're too much." Y/N grumbles, though the small smile on her lips says differently. She couldn't deny how much she missed Harry over the past two weeks — not only the place he holds in her life, but from a physical, intimate standpoint, too.
"C'mon, I'll get you some sweats."
She follows him to his bedroom, her stomach prickling with nerves as he guides her to the bed, instructing her to take a seat. He traipses over to his dresser and pulls out a pair of gray sweatpants and a baggy tee-shirt. It says hot and heavy on the back, and she remembers she blushed just from reading it the first time she saw him wear it.
He gives her a moment of privacy to change, shutting the bedroom door quietly. With a deep breath, she kicks her heels off, peels her tights down her legs, and pulls her dress up and over her body. It's a relief to finally change into cozy clothes that smell like Harry, and she can't believe she's really here — when they were seeing each other before, she'd dreamt of being able to go over to his house and see what it looked like. She was always just too scared that her parents would find her, or even call the cops when she didn't come home early enough.
Now, she still cares, but it feels like Harry's there to protect her — and that makes it seem a little less scary.
There's a knock at the door, pulling her from her thoughts. With her old clothes folded up neatly, she opens it, revealing a sleepy looking Harry. 
"All changed?" 
She nods, opening the door a little wider to reveal her appearance. His jaw drops and a single "fuck" leaves his lips.
Y/N's eyes widen, worried that she's done something wrong. Quickly, he flounders, stammering like she normally does. 
"Are you alright?" she asks, a look of concern covering her face. He nods, swallowing harshly.
"Um. Yeah, sorry." he coughs into his hand, "Fuck, this is embarrassing— you just— um, you look really fucking hot in my clothes."
She raises her eyebrows, glancing down at the outfit. His sweatpants pool at her ankles and the shirt, which is oversized on his torso, goes down to the middle of her thighs. She supposes he may be able to see her breasts through the white fabric of the tee, but otherwise, she doesn't understand why it's such an attractive sight to him.
"Shit, I need to— I'm sorry, Y/N, this definitely isn't what you need tonight—" he's inching backwards and towards the bathroom on the side of the hallway when she sees it — a very large and apparent erection straining through his black jeans. 
"Oh," she mumbles, "Do you...? We can, like, do stuff if you... if you wanted..."
"No!" he groans, turning to face the wall and pressing his forehead against it, "Just— no, dovie, thank you for the offer but I just feel like I'd be taking advantage of you after such a long night, yeah? So lemme just— I'm gonna take care of this in the bathroom and you can get comfy in the bed, okay?"
He's gone in a flash, the bathroom door locked before she even has a chance to reply. She bites her lip, hoping he's not secretly annoyed at her for asking if he wanted to do something sexual. She's too tired to overthink it though, so she turns on her heel, walks back into his room, and climbs under the blankets.
She's nearly asleep when he returns, soft footsteps padding across the length of the wood floors. She hears a quiet whisper of her name and she peeks an eye open to see Harry standing over her. 
"'m gonna sleep outside on the couch, but let me know if you need anything, alright?" 
She swallows, reaching out to grab his hand in a sleepy haze. His eyebrows raise as she bites her lip. "Can you just... stay for a minute? Until I fall back asleep?"
And truly, Harry couldn't deny her even if he wanted to. 
So he nods his head and, to his surprise, she moves over so he has room to crawl in. He does, at first maintaining a sliver of distance between them, until she looks up at him, her hair mussed from laying back against his pillows, an expectant and wide-eyed look on her face.
"Need me to hold you, dovie?"
Y/N nods, immediately clinging to his body like a magnet. He smiles gently and wraps his arms around her form, pulling her onto her side and into his chest, smoothing her hair down as he presses an occasional kiss to her forehead. They've cuddled at the shop a few times, but nothing like this — not an all-consuming, full body experience that has Harry feeling like he's in heaven. She smells so good, her skin is so warm, and she's wrapped up in his clothes — he doesn't think he could ask for anything more in this moment.
Just as he thinks she's fallen asleep, he hears a soft voice muffled into his sweatshirt. He glances down, wondering if she's just talking in her sleep. Instead, he's met with tired, sweet eyes.
"What was that?" he whispers, swiping his knuckle lightly over her cheek.
"Thank you," she mumbles. "For today."
"I would do anything for you, princess. Hope you know that."
She yawns with a shake of her head. "That's a silly thing to promise."
. . .
When Y/N wakes up the next morning, she's under the weight of a long haired man that, for the past two weeks, only existed in her dreams.
It's jarring for him to actually exist in her reality now, but even more so that she stayed over at his place and slept in the same bed as him.
Less than 24 hours away from her parents and she's already crossed off another first off her list.
But the blissful moment of realization is quickly stripped away when the events of last night come flooding back to her — the date with Arthur, his rough nature, the supposed deal between him and her parents. Her parents who were an entirely different issue on their own — she feels a dull throb aching behind her temples just as the thought of how they're planning to lure her back, worry seeping into her bones when she realizes she hasn't checked her phone since they left the tattoo shop last night.
Harry must feel her panicked thoughts rising because he blinks his eyes open to see a prominent furrow between her eyebrows. Without her realizing it, he moves carefully, raising his thumb to smooth it away.
"What're you stressing about so early in the morning?" he rasps out. She swallows, moving onto her side to face him.
"They've probably issued out a search party by now."
"Mm, can't do that. You're not considered a missing person until it's been 48 hours."
His joke clearly doesn't land when Y/N squints her eyes at him. Instead, he quickly wraps his arm around her shoulders to pull her closer. 
"It's gonna be okay, Y/N. I promised you would never go back there and I meant it," he explains lowly, pressing a light kiss to the shell of her ear. "What if you just text them and tell them that you're done? You're over 18, there's no reason why they can keep doing this."
Her eyes close as she relaxes into his chest, enjoying the sensation of his vibrating chest from his deep voice. 
"I'm too scared to look at my phone." she admits quietly. "I can't imagine the mean things they've written to me."
"Do you want me to look?" Harry asks softly, using his hand to tilt her head up to look at him. 
She shrugs. "If you do, can you maybe not tell me what they say? Just tell me the important stuff?"
"Course."
She nods and sits up, reaching onto his night stand for her phone. With a deep breath, she hands it to him before rolling over onto her other side to face the wall. 
He runs his fingers up and down her spine as he goes through her missed texts. There's one or two from that prick Arthur, but they're nothing important — just an ask that she calls him when she's feeling better (he resists the urge to block his number altogether). But otherwise... well, he's admittedly shocked at what he finds.
"Is it bad?" she asks, wedging her thumbnail between her teeth.
"Um..." Harry presses his lips into a thin line, rolling them into his mouth. "You didn't block their numbers or anything, right?"
"No."
"Dove... I'm not quite sure how to tell you this, but... there's nothing."
She flips onto her back, a stunned expression painting her face. "What?"
"They didn't text or call, sweetheart. I'm... I don't know if that's a good or bad thing, but... you just had some missed texts from that guy from last night."
"How is that possible?" she asks when he hands her phone to her, "I— do you think they haven't noticed?"
"I'm not sure. You said they've been on you more often lately, I would assume that they'd be waiting up for you last night, right?"
She shrugs, "Yeah. Probably."
"On the other hand, though, it could mean that... well, maybe you're home free, dovie," Harry says, treading carefully in case he accidentally upsets her, "We can take the day to relax. I don't have to go into work today and we can figure out your next steps, if you'd like."
With a heavy sigh, she nods her head and sits up a little straighter, running her hand through her messy bedhead. "Do you mind if I take a shower?"
"Sure," Harry mumbles, pressing a quick kiss to her forehead before allowing his feet to touch the chilly wood floor of his bedroom. "I'll get you set up in the bathroom."
She doesn't reply to that so Harry decides to leave her be, instead deciding to show his affection in an act of service. He starts by running the shower on the perfect temperature — not too hot but not too cool either, just so steam begins to steadily fill the room — and picks out his plushiest towels for when she's done. He finishes by lighting his favorite candle for her, moseying back out to his bedroom to fetch her a new pair of sweats. 
She's on her feet when he returns, scrolling on her phone with her lips pressed into a straight line. Silently, he grabs another pair of his sweatpants and a tee-shirt and reaches out for her hand; a wordless request to follow him. 
She does, pliantly, but not before peering up at him with eyes that tell him everything: She's sad. It doesn't take a rocket scientist to figure that out.
"Let me know if you need anything, okay?" Harry murmurs, folding her new clothes on the covered toilet seat. "You're obviously free to use whatever you want in there."
Swallowing harshly, she begins to tug at the hem of her borrowed tee-shirt before he has the chance to scamper out of the room. His eyes widen — he feels like a dick, she probably wants to be alone and now he's standing her ogling at her breasts like an idiot — but she simply stares at him with blank eyes.
"Can you... distract me?" she asks softly, her torso now bare, "It's— it's just been too much and I miss you. A lot."
Harry breathes in sharply. "I don't know if that's a good idea, dovie... it's been an emotional time for you."
"I know that," she mumbles, biting her bottom lip. "I just— I wanna feel normal again, Harry. Like how things were before. When we could just kiss and hang out and I didn't feel like I'm gonna burst into flames at any point."
"I know," Harry nods understandingly and bumps his hip against the sink. "But things are different now, princess. And I don't want to do something that you'll regret later because you were feeling down."
She shakes her head quickly, taking a step towards him. The steam from the shower has effectively warmed the bathroom, making beads of sweat pearl at his hairline. Well, that and the topless girl in front of him. 
"I would never regret anything we do," she says, "Even when I tried to stay away from you, I didn't regret a single moment."
"Really?"
"Of course not," she replies, keeping her gaze set on him, "Sometimes, I, um... I even played with myself. Thinking of you."
"Jesus Christ."
He lets out a frustrated groan and closes the bathroom door, tugging his own tee-shirt up and over his body to reveal his heavily inked chest and arms. In a minute, his hands are on her, squeezing her sides as he presses her back against the wall. 
"Tell me more," he mutters, leaning down and sponging kisses along her jawline and down to her neck. "What did you do? What did you think about?"
The sudden physicality makes it hard for her to breathe, let alone talk, but she tries to anyway, knowing that he'll tease her into oblivion if she doesn't at least make an attempt. With his fingers curling into the waistband of the sweatpants she wears, she tries to remember the nights when all she could think about was him. 
"Thought about— oh—" her sentence is interrupted when he nips at the crook of her neck, his fingers dipping beneath her panties to lightly roll over her clit. She leans her head back but, as expected, he attempts to keep her on task, using his other hand to gently squeeze the sides of her neck. "T-thought about you touching me... l-like this."
"Like what?" 
"This," she repeats through a gasp when he starts to apply a bit more pressure to her clit, pressing small circles into the nerves. 
"Don't know what that means, dove. Gotta spell it out for me. Where was I touching you?"
Y/N moans when one of his fingers dips into her pulsating hole, just enough to make her clench, her knees weakening. He squeezes her neck again, this time a bit tighter, and her eyes roll back. 
"Where was I touching you, Y/N?" 
"D-down there." she says breathily.
"Down where?"
She knows there's no way she's getting out of this, and the rhythmic pulsing of her clit is only a reminder of the power he holds over her in this moment. She whimpers, swallowing harshly when he removes his finger, keeping the tip inside. 
"Tell me," he encourages lowly, licking over the sensitive part of her neck he found a few weeks back. "Don't you wanna be my dirty girl again?"
"Y-you were touching my pussy." she mumbles, her cheeks burning. She can feel his smirk, the way his lips curl against her skin. As promised, he dips his finger back in, curling it up against the spot that has her fluttering her eyes closed, and resumes the soft circles into her clit. 
"I was touching your pussy? That's a naughty thing for a sweet girl like you to imagine," he lowers, placing open-mouthed kisses down her naked chest. "And what were you doing while you thought of that, hm?"
Y/N gasps wetly as he pulses his finger steadily, a groan falling from his own lips when he feels her arousal gush out around his hand. Based on how long it took her to refer to her own anatomy, Harry doesn't have high expectations for her explaining how she touched herself, so it's a given that he'll help push her along. 
"Did you grind your little clit on your hand?" he asks as he lowers to his knees, tugging the sweatpants down her legs and pressing kisses to her exposed stomach. "Or did you hump one of those cute stuffed animals you have on your bed?"
She pants heavily at that, a soundless lightbulb illuminating above his head. Bingo.
"Don't think I didn't notice those little stuffies in your bedroom from when you'd send me pretty pictures of yourself," he murmurs into her hips, nipping at the stretch marks on her stomach, "Is that what you would do when you thought of me? Hump your cute bunny, moaning, wishing I was there to take care of you?"
She nods her head, quickly and haphazardly. He pushes his lips over her mound, leaving open-mouthed kisses in his wake as he continues his journey down to her pussy. She's wet, perhaps even more so than he's ever seen her before, her juices leaking from where his finger is buried deep inside down to his wrist. 
"Please," she whimpers from above, making him glance up at her, "Just— just want you. Please."
"You have me, dovie." he replies easily, pushing a second finger in and nestling it close to the first. 
"N-no. Want you. All of you."
He swallows and sits back on his heels. She has no idea how badly he wants that, and if it were anyone else in the world, he'd probably say yes. But it's her — his sweet, innocent girl that showed up at his tattoo shop one day and hasn't left his brain for one second since — and he knows that right now isn't the time for them.
"I'll give you that as soon as things get better," he murmurs, keeping his gaze set on her. "But you deserve so much more than to be fucked for the first time against a bathroom wall. Wanna take you out, make it romantic."
She blinks, taking a moment to process his polite rejection, nevertheless slowly nodding her head. He leans forward and presses another light kiss to her mound, just below her stomach. 
"Y'wanna know something, though?"
Again, she nods, and he begins to slowly curl his fingers up against her g-spot once more.
"I love the fact that I've corrupted you," he mutters, kissing down to her hood, right where her clit is peeking out. He licks just above there and she moans, pushing her hips out slightly as a wordless request to keep moving down. "Remember when you were that polite girl coming in with her friend? And now you're at my place, begging for my cock, asking me to take your virginity."
"Uh-huh," she mewls as his lips wrap around her clit, sucking perfectly in time with his thrusting fingers. 
He pauses his movements for a moment, just enough for a demand: "Say it," he says, immediately returning to the assault on her most sensitive parts. 
"Y-you corrupted me," she breathes, punctuating the sentiment with a whimper when he harshens his sucking, "I'm yours— oh, I'm yours, daddy—"
"That's right." he uses his other hand to part her pussy lips, spitting squarely on her clit, even if she doesn't need any more lubrication. He switches to kitten licking the bundle of nerves, feeling her hole beginning to clench violently around his fingers. "Cum for me like a good girl. Missed feeling your little pussy squeeze me like this."
That's all it takes for her to cum, her body feeling like it's exploding into a million stars as his tongue and fingers work her through the intense pleasure. He's groaning from the taste of her arousal that drools out from her pussy, the feeling of haphazard pulsations the most beautiful thing he's ever seen. He loves watching her — her head ducked back slightly, her eyes squeezed closed, and the prettiest whimpers falling from plushy lips. 
"S-sensitive," she finally stutters out and Harry nods, gently pulling his fingers out. They immediately find their way into his mouth as he rises back up to his feet. When he's finished licking them clean, he grabs her jaw. 
"Open."
She does. Her lips part, opening her mouth, her pink tongue laying dormant inside. With a smirk, his eyes flicker up to hers before he spits into her mouth. 
It takes her by surprise, her body jolting slightly, but her sensitive pussy twitches from the act. 
"Swallow."
Slowly, she closes her mouth, swallowing the combination of his spit with her arousal. A moment later, she opens it again to show him there's nothing left.
"Fuck," he mutters. "Fuck, you're incredible."
She smiles gently, letting out a breath she didn't know she'd been holding. "Can we shower now?"
Harry chuckles and nods, guiding her into the steaming stream of water.
. . .
"Okay, princess. Repeat the plan back to me."
Y/N is doing her best to fight off a panic attack as she sits in the passenger's seat of Harry's car. Swallowing harshly, she takes a deep breath and closes her eyes as she restates the steps they'd decided on last night.
"We're gonna go up to their apartment and go straight to my bedroom. If they're there, I'm going to ignore them and let you do the talking. I won't listen to anything rude they say to me."
"That's right. What do we do when we're in your room?"
"We're gonna pack up my things, but only the necessities. Most things can be repurchased." 
"Exactly. We're going for important things that you don't wanna leave behind."
She nods, watching the city streets slowly progress to the familiar high-end stores and supermarkets she grew up around. Suddenly, the blocks were far more sanitary and well taken care of. It made her stomach flutter in the worst way, being back here after spending the past few days at Harry's house in her newly preferred neighborhood.
In a stroke of luck, Harry had a friend that was looking for a roommate. Apparently, they'd worked together as tattoo apprentices a few years back and they still kept in touch. Her name was Lucy, and Harry had even set up a coffee date between the three of them so they could sit down before Y/N made any big decisions. She had been really nervous about it, but Lucy turned out to be incredibly nice and understanding. 
Y/N explained her situation to her, only to receive an abundance of kindness in return — she said that she would love to have her move in with her, that she was a pretty quiet person to live with and worked most days while Y/N would be in school. (She missed around two weeks of classes because of her parents, but Harry convinced her to meet with her professors and tell them she had a family emergency. Thankfully, they were fine with it, and with a little extra studying and hunkering down, she thinks she can still end the semester with low Bs.) 
With her living situation figured out and Y/N back to being a full-time student, the only thing left to address was her parents. In an ideal world, she would never have to deal with them again, but she knows that's unrealistic. They still haven't reached out to her despite it being a full week since she went back to Harry.
And while she wants to run away and abandon her former life, Harry convinced her that she had things she'd regret leaving behind. Not to mention, since starting grad school, she started saving money from her parents in the event that she somehow received an opportunity to get away from them. It wasn't enough to sustain her forever, but it would be good enough for a few months of bills and rent until she gets a job.
When Harry parks in the lot under her parents' apartment building, she feels nauseous. She ignores the sleek black Range Rover that's still parked in her assigned spot — she has no desire to take it, especially because it was just another way for her parents to pretend they were giving her freedom when they were just controlling her even more.
Wordlessly, they get in the elevator. Y/N's nibbling on her bottom lip to the point of near-blood draw while Harry thumbs over her knuckles, pressing a light kiss to her palm when the elevator dings at their arrival.
Standing outside of their apartment door, Y/N rolls her shoulders back to stand up straighter. She can feel Harry's presence close behind her and it brings her comfort, knowing that she's not going in this alone. He murmurs out a near-whisper of encouragement ("you can do this") before she punches in the door code. She's surprised when it works — she'd been half expecting them to change the codes so she couldn't come back.
Hesitantly and with intertwined fingers, Y/N leads them to her bedroom. The apartment is silent, which typically means her parents are gone, but her anxiety is too overwhelming for her to trust it. 
Which she supposes is for good reason, because when she opens the door to her room, her mother is sitting on her bed.
"Y/N," she says, eyes roaming inquisitively from her daughter to the man she's holding hands with. "I saw you coming up on the security cameras."
A bead of panic drips down her spine. Harry squeezes her hand and steps forward, clearly prepared to reply, when Y/N stops him. 
"Why are you here?" Y/N asks. Harry looks at her with a confused expression but he takes a step back, ready to defend her if needed. "You haven't contacted me for a week."
"Well, this is my property, Y/N. You're trespassing."
"Okay." she sighs, looking up at Harry. "Just give us a minute then, we just want to grab some of my stuff and we'll be gone."
"And this is who you'll be living with?" her mom quirks an eyebrow. "This... person from the bookstore that day?"
"He tried talking to you. You had no interest."
"Well I would think you would defend your boyfriend better than that. How was I supposed to know?"
Y/N grits her teeth and shakes her head, "Again, mother, just give us a minute. I'm not taking any furniture or anything valuable, just a few keepsakes."
"You're abandoning this family, I hope you know that," her mother spits as Y/N begins to rustle through her desk, grabbing some pictures and notebooks. Silently, she hands them to Harry, who carefully slips everything in the tote bag around his shoulder. "Your father is so disappointed. So are the Franklins! I mean, you left Arthur alone like that on your first date! And for what, a lifetime of struggling for money?"
"Not everything is about money!" Y/N exclaims, turning around. Harry's eyebrows shoot up — he's never seen her get angry before. "Besides that, you promised me off to Arthur like I'm some kind of object! Who does that?!"
"It was for the better of the company and the family, Y/N, don't be dramatic—"
"Well I didn't want that! I never did!" she shouts, "I want to live my own life! With my boyfriend! Who, by the way, I'm not living with! He's just helping me get on my feet, but even if I was moving in with him, it wouldn't matter, because it's not your life! You don't get to make my decisions anymore!"
Her mother scoffs and Y/N rolls her eyes. When she finds her envelope of money deep at the bottom of her dresser, she grabs a few pairs of pants and sweaters, sticking it between the layers of fabric to pass off to Harry. He tucks them all away. 
"You know you're cut off after this, right?" she asks, crossing her arms over her chest. "This is it. You walk out that door, you're never allowed back. Don't ask us for a single cent."
Bristled, Y/N lets out a humorless chuckle as she heads for the door, Harry right behind her. They cross the length of the apartment and she slams the down button to the elevator, turning around to look at her mother for the last time.
"I never want to come back, mother. Goodbye."
The click of her mother's heels are the last thing she hears as they enter the elevator and ride down to the parking lot.
. . .
When they get into Harry's car, he realizes it's been a solid five minutes since Y/N has said anything. 
He doesn't want to pressure her — he knows that what just happened was a lot, and when he was reading articles like how to help your partner leave an abusive family last night, they all instructed him to go at her pace. So, that's what he decides to do.
The interior of the car is silent as they drive out of the lot and away from her parents, the boring, dull building just a reflection in the rearview mirror. He doesn't want to turn the radio on and make it seem like he doesn't care, but he also doesn't want to say something stupid and upset her further. 
It's only when he hears a sound resembling a giggle that he looks over at Y/N, a concerned furrow in his brow. 
But she is laughing. 
The most beautiful grin is covering her face as she lets out loud laughter, tears streaming down her cheeks. She shakes her head, looking at Harry, whose confused expression only makes her laugh even harder.
"Dovie, are you alright?" he asks, pulling the car over in preparation for a full meltdown. 
"I—" her words are cut off by another peel of laughter and she takes another moment to pull herself together, "Oh my god— I would've done that years ago if I knew it'd be that easy!"
This time, Harry chuckles, a wave of relief washing over him.
"I'm so proud of you," he says, leaning over to pull her hands into his lap. "You stood up for yourself. You left. I couldn't be happier for you."
"Thank you," she bubbles, her cheeks flushed from her laughter, "I'm so happy. Thank you so much, Harry... I'm just so thankful for you."
He shakes his head, "I'll do anything for you, princess."
Y/N leans over to kiss him lightly, a smile continuing to curl at the edges of her lips. "I love you, you know."
Harry grins.
"Yeah, I love you, too."
. . .
The bell above the front door of St. Mark's Social Club rings as Y/N steps inside. She smiles politely at Jo, the kind receptionist that sits at the front desk (the same one that checked Mai in a few months ago). She's still getting comfortable with all the different employees and characters that come in and out of Harry's tattoo shop, but her socialization skills have definitely improved since moving out.
She walked over as soon as she got out of class. Lately, she's been staying on campus a bit later to do some studying for finals, but today's Friday. Over the past few weeks as Y/N's adjusted to her new life of living on her own and officially dating Harry, they've designated Friday nights as theirs, whether it mean curling up on the couch with a pizza or heading out to a bar with some of Harry's employees. (More often than not, it's the former — despite Harry being the more social of the two, he's always eager to get his hands on her after a day of being away from one another.)
He's wrapping up his last client of the day when Y/N peeks into his station, waving with a small smile. Harry's stoic and focused expression instantly transforms into one of excitement.  
"Hey dove," he greets as he tears off a clear piece of plastic to cover his client's new tattoo. (Y/N's since learned that it's called Saniderm, and it's apparently some way of helping fresh tattoos heal faster.) "You can put your stuff down in my office, I'll be there in a sec."
She nods and bounces off to the small room at the end of the hallway. Instantly, she lays back against the velvet couch in the corner, placing her backpack on the floor. As promised, Harry walks in a few minutes later, pulling off his plastic gloves and tossing them in the garbage can. 
"How was your day?" he asks, leaning down to peck her lips. She hums, hands in her lap as he smiles down at her.
"Good. Class was boring, I was excited to come see you."
"Oh yeah?" he smirks, "You better have been paying attention and not letting your mind wander with those dirty thoughts of yours."
Y/N rolls her eyes. "Harry, you're the one that tries to have phone sex, like, every night."
"We'll get there one day, I think."
She laughs and shakes her head, crossing her legs. "What are you in the mood to eat for dinner tonight?"
"Mm, not sure," he replies, "I forgot, I have one deal to do before we head out for the day. 's why I came around to begin with. I hope that's alright."
She nods her head, "Yeah, that's fine."
"Thanks, princess," he murmurs, leaning forward to press a light kiss to her nose. "Who'd have thought, three months ago yo@u'd be dating the hot tattoo artist that sells weed on the side?"
"You're silly," she mumbles with a giggle, "But... to be honest, I never thought this is what my life would look like three months ago."
"I'm sure. Are you happy with it, though?"
Y/N has to bite her lip from grinning too hard. 
"I don't think I could be any happier, Harry."
She squeals when he pushes her back against the length of the sofa to press kisses all over her face.
. . .
TAGS:
I know I asked people forever ago if they wanted to be tagged for my new writing and I'm literally just doing it now grjetkjre but please feel free to message me if that's changed ! (if your name is in italics it didn't work!)
@tenaciousperfectionunknown @cookielovesbook-akie @cali-888 @harrysolaf @gnomerry @vamprry @onllyyaangelbyhs @harrystylessslut @lovelylly @straightontilmornin @rizosrizo26 @redlightalexa @velvetballaspark @uniquesexything @canyonmoondreams @ghoststyles @whoreonmondays @esnyhoney @imnevergonnabloganything @honeyharlows @gem1712 @harryscherri @forgetdelaney
1K notes · View notes
eternally-racing · 4 months
Text
need you now | lando norris (+ oscar)
Tumblr media
genre: smut , maybe fluff if you squint
wc: <1k (short n sweet 😌)
pairing: lando norris x reader, with a surprise appearance from #81 himself (read and find out hehehe)
warnings: female masturbation, phone sex (ish), voyeurism, dirty talk
rating: R - minors DNI
summary: calling your boyfriend Lando to complain about being horny seems to turn into so much more.
- - - - - - - -
“Landooooooo” you’re whining to your phone camera. You’re throwing a tantrum like a child and you know it, but you just can’t seem to help yourself. It’s been weeks since your boyfriend promised to visit, and after Lando was supposed to come home last weekend but got called into the factory for some last minute meetings, you’re more than a little… frustrated, to say the least. 
You know Lando can tell too. He’s cheeky enough to want to make you squirm, putting on that all knowing smile that you love so much. These conversations have become all too frequent between you two - you nestled into your sheets at home, Lando relaxing in his driver’s room during any free time he has on a race weekend. You’re even wearing one of Lando’s old shirts, and from the way that your nipples are poking through it it’s all too easy for him to tell how horny you are. 
“Lan you don’t understand, it’s like I just need to be fucked. Not a want, a NEED. and you’re not here and it’s the worst.” There are of course much bigger problems in the world, but for a girl who knows the touch of Lando Norris and hasn’t felt it in weeks, this feels like torture. 
Once you get going on the topic, you’ve set the train into motion and there’s no stopping it. Lando of course doesn’t stop you at all, what better feeling is there than your girl talking about how much she misses your dick?”  
“My poor baby” Lando says sweetly with a tinge of sarcasm that makes you roll your eyes “your fingers just aren’t enough, are they?”
Lando knows exactly what you need to hear to egg you on and he says exactly that. “I bet you’re already wet just thinking about me coming back, aren’t you Y/N? You’re thinking about all the things I’m going to do to you when I finally get my hands on you again.” 
You can feel your thong getting so wet and you’re almost in such a sex craze that you’re willing to book a plane ticket to get halfway across the world to be with your boyfriend. If Lando’s going to play games, you can play them too. You lean over towards the camera, giving him a nice shot of your cleavage. “What are you planning to do to me, Lan?” 
And tell you he does. The filth Lando mentions to you is enough to make you feel like you could orgasm without even touching yourself, and small moans and whimpers seem to slip out of your mouth as you try to keep quiet about how much he’s affecting you. There’s promises made of orgasm after orgasm, and even the images in your head of Lando buried beyween your legs is enough to make you clench your thighs together in eagerness.
“Lan, I need you now” you mumble with glazed eyes, “look what you’ve done to me”. You’re about to show him the mess he’s made of your legs and take the oversized shirt off your body when Lando’s eyes go wide and he tells you to hold on for a second. And the words he says as he cuts off your actions make your jaw drop to the floor. 
“Babe, you might wanna say hi to Oscar.” 
You gasp audibly and almost drop your phone entirely. Lando turns the camera all too slightly to the left to show both him and Oscar now. The younger man is settled comfortably onto the couch next to your boyfriend, and the knowing look and slight red tinge to his cheeks tell you that he's been there for your entire conversation. Lando's eyes seem to flit between you and his teammate, trying to gauge if this was his best idea or worst idea ever.
You can barely look him in the eyes as you stumble through greeting Oscar. But it's not missed on Lando that you don't make any moves to cross your arms over your chest or cover yourself up in front of Oscar, and he keeps that information as something to talk to you about later.
“I should head off, mate, but if you ever need help with that problem… I’d be happy to lend a hand.” The Australian boy has the audacity to wink at you through the camera before he picks up his jacket to leave. The Oscar you see in front of you doesn’t resemble the shy, timid rookie you first met at the beginning of the year - you can’t imagine how much else has changed about him since then.
Who knows, maybe it would be worth it to take Oscar up on his offer.
1K notes · View notes
blackkwidowed · 2 months
Note
Rewatching black widow has led to the conclusion that in the scene in Norway where Nat is watching the movie in her trailer, that woman is entirely just in a shirt and underwear.
norway nat is a favourite of mine, here is another lil taste of my brain. did someone order dirty talk? she's not wearing underwear this time
Nat emerges from the bathroom, quietly pottering down the hall to where you're half-lay on the couch with a book in your hands and a blanket over your lap.
She's wearing your shirt this time, you note. It makes you smile softly at her as she reaches you, taking the book from your hands and setting it aside. You know what she's after, her intentions clear when she straddles your lap and presses her lips feather light against your neck.
"I like when you wear my clothes." You mutter. Your hands find her hips, sliding down her thighs.
She sighs at the touch, humming at your words as she continues trailing her lips across your skin.
"This shirt is mine now, actually."
You grin, raking your nails lightly across her thighs. You hear a soft sigh against your neck, where her lips still linger. It makes you shiver.
"That's a shame," you note. Your hands roam, grabbing a handful of her ass in one and sliding the other over her hip. "I like fucking you when you're wearing my clothes."
Her breath catches, and she sinks her teeth into your collarbone, pulling at the skin with her teeth. She knows it makes you weak.
"But I suppose it'll do."
She groans against you when you grip her hip tighter, running your thumb over the bone and attempting to pull her closer yet.
"I was thinking about you in the shower," she murmurs. "I can't get you out of my head."
"Is that so?" You chuckle, grinning. "What exactly were you thinking of in there?"
Her hips are at your neck again, but firmer this time. Your skin's on fire. You might know very well how to make her weak, but you know it goes both ways. Her lips are hot, mouth wet, hips moving on top of you where she's seated. Fuck. You can't get enough of her.
Nat's moving up your neck, to your ear where she nips gently at it and whispers, "how badly I want your fingers in me."
Fuck.
You tangle your fingers through her hair, pulling her back gently for her to look at you. "They feel so good. I love the way I feel so full when you're inside me like that."
Releasing a low hum of appreciation, you attach your lips to her neck, biting softly until she emits that beautiful, soft whine you're used to when you find the spot that makes her tick. She isn't about to dance around and play games tonight, no, she's telling you what she wants and you'd be downright stupid to deny it from her.
"So is it a coincidence that it's one of my favourite things?" One hand remains in her hair, the other at her hip still, but this time encouraging her movements in your lap. "I just love how wet you get for me."
You litter kisses across her jaw.
"How you grab at my wrist when I've got my fingers in you. It's how I know you never want me to stop."
She moans. Soft. Your favourite sound. You know you're already driving her crazy and you couldn't be happier about it.
Your trail kisses up to her ear, lowering your voice to a whisper. "How hard it is for me to move when you're about to come around my fingers."
Natasha closes her eyes, clenching around nothing. God, she needs them. Desperately. She knows it, and she knows you know it. Both of her hands rest on either side of your neck, holding herself. Your voice, the eye contact, it makes her knees weak.
She rests her forehead against yours, breathing louder than she'd want to when the hand on her hip glides across her inner thigh. It's inching higher, and even though neither of you can count the amount of times you'd done this, the suspense is killing her. It somehow, always feels like the first time.
You kiss her hard. It's laced with want, need, love, passion, everything that makes her heart soar and a fire light in her stomach. She knows she's already embarrassingly wet, she has been since jumping out of the shower. But now, with your voice in her ear and your hands everywhere, Natasha knows she's a mess. She can feel it.
You can too, even without touching her between her legs yet. Your fingers rest at the top of her inner thigh, but you can feel the heat from her still. And as much as you love teasing her, hearing her pleas and begs, you want her. There's an overwhelming urge to just give her everything, so you do.
Your fingers graze her clit and her hips buck in surprise. She's so sensitive it's driving your crazy. She can't keep herself still. As soon as you make contact, she's rotating her hips for pressure from your fingers.
"God, fuck, that feels so good." She whimpers, pressing her lips to yours again. It's hungry, desperate and all-consuming. She needs you, and you know it.
She rests her forehead against your shoulder while you make slow, lazy circles across her clit. God, she's wet. You gather slick with your fingers and she groans when you meet her clit again. She's more and more sensitive by the minute, and the debate in your head of keeping her waiting or just giving her what she wants is a constant battle.
Her lips against your ear again, this time already breathless at the heat between the two of you that's come seemingly from nowhere. An hour ago you were playing a board game quietly, laughing to each other while some movie played in the background that neither of you were paying any attention to. Yet now, she was sat on top of you, cunt leaking and silently begging you to take her.
What makes you break though, is the one thing she knows full well makes you the weakest.
A final, soft bite at your ear lobe, and with her voice low, thick with arousal. "Please, baby."
Your eyes close, thighs clenching. Your other hand finds her hip, pulling her tight against your body. The fingers across her clit stop, but almost no time passes before you slip two of them inside her.
The moan in your ear is everything to you. It's pleasure, fireworks, lustful. Filthy.
Being inside her is like nothing else, especially when she clenches to get you deeper, keeping you inside because as she said herself, it's her favourite thing. You think it's yours too. Except of course, her whimpers directly in your ear, but they go hand in hand usually.
"Yes, yes, just like that."
You pull her to face you again, demanding eye contact while your fingers hit just where she needs them. Her hips move in rhythm, and fuck she doesn't know how it's always so unbelievably perfect feeling you inside her, your fingers curling, or thrusting languidly.
Her pupils are blown, and she smirks when she sees yours. She knows she's making you crazy.
"You're such a wreck, pretty girl, is this what you've been thinking about?"
She nods quickly, a god, yes, falling from her lips in a whine to answer you verbally.
"Touch yourself for me."
She smirks again, freeing a hand from your neck and trailing it down her stomach to her own clit. The moan is exquisite, and you're certain now you've ruined your own underwear. You can feel the wetness pool and your clit throb at the sight in front of you. Your stomach drops.
Natasha looks radiant like this, moving on two of your fingers and rubbing gentle, languid circles across her own clit. Your fingers curl and she throws her head back, neck exposed to you. You take the opportunity to attach to that spot again, suckling softly and grazing your teeth across it. You want to leave a mark, it's her favourite place and you both know it.
It makes her whimpers louder than before. It's all so good, every part of it. She can't get enough, and neither can you.
You fuck into her with your fingers, feeling the soft, spongy area that makes her collapse into you when you crook your digits. She's loud now, you know she's close already. You speed up your movements and she grips hard at the back of your neck with her free hand.
The movements across her clit are faster now, and you're in awe watching her make herself come for you. She can't wait any longer, that's obvious, but it's still as though she's waiting for permission.
"You gonna make yourself come for me, baby, hm? You gonna come around my fingers for me?" Your voice is low, laced with desire. God, she's yearning for it, her fingers moving faster. She's clenching around you, so hard you can barely move, just like you love to feel.
"Fuck, yes," she sobs. "I'm gonna come for you. Fuck-"
You feel it. Her body stiffens, mouth agape in silence, eyes still locked with yours until they roll back and her hips snap.
"Okay, baby, okay." You soothe her softly, the grip on her hip loosening and the fingers between her legs slow, guiding her back to reality. "I've got you."
She breathes heavy against your neck where she's collapsed against you. Her hips have slowed. Her quiet moans through her breathing are still there, though, because despite everything you're still inside her, and she's not about to forget that quickly.
"I came so fucking hard," she breathes, chest heaving. "I-christ."
"Mmhmm." You move your fingers slightly, and her hips jump against your hand. She's beautifully sensitive. "I know you did, sweetheart, I had a front row seat."
She laughs softly, moving finally. She brings her lips to yours, kissing your deep, slow. Her tongue brushes yours and you moan quietly against her lips. "Think you can handle an encore?"
957 notes · View notes
moonstruckme · 7 months
Note
Poly!marauders with a reader who has a hard time explaining (or expressing how she feels) thing??? Like, she knows what to say but she stumbles over her words a lot??
You dont gotta write this obviously, have an amazing day!!!!! <3
Thanks for requesting sweetheart! Hope you had an amazing day too :)
poly!marauders x fem!reader ♡ 784 words
You’re feeling a bit cramped. You’ve got your back to the couch’s armrest and your knees are pressed tight to your chest, feet all but tucked under you to avoid touching James’ thigh. Remus lounges casually on his other side, Sirius sprawled with his legs over the opposite armrest and his head in Remus’ lap. They all look perfectly laidback, spread out and limbs overlapping as they chat about the upcoming quidditch match between Hufflepuff and Slytherin. Meanwhile, you’re afraid to breathe too deeply lest you take up any more space. 
“They’ve been having a great season,” James says, but Sirius only scoffs.
“Yeah, but they’ll never work up the guts to play as dirty as Slytherin does,” he argues. “There’s no winning against them if you’re not willing to meet them where they are.” 
“We never have, and—here, love, that can’t be comfortable—” James takes you by the ankles, encouraging your legs to lie across his lap. You hold your breath, not daring to move a muscle but allowing him to maneuver you as he likes. “—and as long as I’m captain, we never will. We won against Slytherin fair-in-square this season, why can’t Hufflepuff?” 
“You’re delusional.” Sirius rolls his eyes, but then they catch on you interestedly. “Prongs, I think you’ve stupefied her.” 
James turns back to you, brown eyes warming with concern. “Sorry, lovely, I didn’t even ask before moving you. Are you comfy now?” 
You can feel your face igniting. This thing with them is so new, and you feel always on the brink of doing something that will spoil it. You don’t know what liberties to take, what to say or not say, whereas the boys seem relentlessly self-assured in every respect. You like having your legs spread across James, but part of you feels like you’re not allowed to like it. 
“Oh, yeah, um,” you stammer, “I’m good.” 
James looks unpersuaded. You don’t blame him; you haven’t done a great job of it. “Are you sure?” he asks. “We’re taking up more than our fair share of space, we can move over if you like.” 
You shake your head emphatically. 
Mirth sparks to life in Sirius’ eyes as he recognizes your state; it’s the beginning of his favorite game. “What is it, baby? Cat got your tongue?” 
“Pads,” Remus chastises, though his own countenance holds evidence of mild amusement, “leave her alone.” He turns his attention to you. “Does it make you uncomfortable when one of us touches you like that, dovey? It’s not a problem if it does, we can stop.” 
“No!” you exclaim, half-desperate. “I mean, it’s not not nice, I just didn’t…”
James strokes the skin of your ankle in a way that you’re sure is meant to be reassuring but only unnerves you further. “Didn’t what, sweetheart?” 
“I just—I—well, you know—”
“Not sure we do, sweet thing,” Sirius drawls. 
“I just—I don’t know,” you say, growing frustrated. “I’m not sure what the rules are, or the…what’re they called? The boundaries, or whatever. I’m not making any sense, sorry.” 
“No it’s alright, don’t apologize,” Remus says. “You’re saying that you weren’t sure if you could touch us, right?”
You nod mutely, wondering that the room hasn’t gone up in flames from the heat coming off your face. 
Remus nods in turn. “Right, well that’s understandable. None of us have bothered to check in with you, have we?” You’re unsure whether you’re supposed to answer, but Remus goes on, fixing you with a painfully kind look. “I don’t have any reservations about it, and I don’t think James or Sirius do either. Lads?” 
“None at all,” James agrees, and Sirius sends you a wink. 
“Touch me any way you like, dollface.” 
Remus gives you an exasperated look about that, but there’s a good heaping of fondness in it. Then his expression softens again. “What about you, sweetheart?”
You take a moment to fit the words into your mouth. “I’m good with that.” 
James makes a sound of teasing endearment, tugging you by the legs so you’re nearly in his lap and squeezing your knee affectionately. “Our shy girl. You know you can tell us these things, don’t you?” 
“I know,” you sigh, letting your head come to rest tentatively on his shoulder. “I just…I can’t always—it’s like my mouth won’t cooperate.” 
“Do you get nervous, honey?” Sirius wheedles, pouting when you try to use James’ form to hide from him. James chuckles, obliging you by setting a hand on your face, covering you from Sirius’ view. “Why would that be? Are we so scary?”
“Don’t torture her, Pads.” James strokes your cheekbone consolingly. “If she never talks to us about anything again, I’m blaming you completely.”
2K notes · View notes
ellecdc · 12 days
Note
how do you think the boys would react to reader telling them that she’s like NEEDY needy (iykyk)
would they do it, or just like get shy and walk off? or? 👀👀👀👀👀👀
mature content ahead: view discretion is advised
So, are they in a relationship yet? I'm going to go with they're in a relationship for this but if you meant they weren't you can feel free to re-ask
James:
chokes on his spit and nearly trips as he turns to look at you in shock (not unpleasant shock, mind you)
"You're what?"
He'd coo in sympathy after you had to embarrassingly repeat yourself in a whisper, rubbing your thighs together desperate for friction
"awe sweets. Okay, come on." and he's leading you by the hand - he's almost more eager than you are as he rushes down the hall
ends up on his knees with his face under your skirt in the closest bathroom - you'd be taken care of for sure 😩
Sirius:
biggest shit eating grin you've ever seen in your life and you almost regret saying anything
I think he'd tease you a little bit: "Awe, poor dolly's feeling needy, hm?" He'd coo in faux sympathy, the bastard
He'd make you tell him exactly what you're looking for. "What do you want, dolly?" 'touch me' "Like this?" and all he'd do is push your hair behind your ear
two can play at that game: 'Fine, I'll go ask someone else.'
He'd let out a horrified squawk and throw you over his shoulder. "Now now, let's not get hasty. I don't want anyone thinking I don't take care of my girl"
bent you over in the nearest broom closet and you both leave flushed and satisfied
Remus:
would smirk at you but continues reading through the first draft of his essay "really dove? now?"
he'd chuckle listening to you pout and get all breathy as you try to sit still "We've got homework, baby girl."
You'd get petulant and lean back in your seat with a huff, crossing your arms.
without even looking, he'd grab the leg of your chair and pull it over towards him - he'd keep his head low and continue making adjustments on his paper as he slips his free hand under your skirt and moves your panties aside.
"Awe, poor dovey - you really were needy weren't you" he'd lightly tease, murmuring softly so only you could hear.
your breath would hitch as he slipped inside of you, earning you a gentle shush as he threatens to stop moving his fingers.
"I'll take care of you but you have to be quiet; only I get to know how pretty you sound, yeah?"
gets you off with just his fingers in the library - makes up for it again later once he's done his essay
Regulus:
he's mean, I'm sorry
he'd make you wait all day
he'd go to class, to every meal, to quidditch practice barely sparing you a glance leaving you all the more desperate
it was painful for him too, mind you. Thinking about you being needy made him needy, and he spent all day dreaming of taking you over and over and over again
but he's a bit of a sadomasochist lol
he'd finally be all wound up after quidditch practice and would pull you roughly into his room and, like he'd been imagining all day, take you over and over and over again
to the point of over stimulation
"Come on amour, you can give me one more, yeah? Wasn't this what you wanted? Weren't you so needy?"
he got three more for his dirty talk alone
Barty:
no questions asked
'Barty?' "Yes Treasure?" 'I...I want, erm....I mean I...I feel kind of needy'
slams book shut and throws it over his shoulder where it lands in the fountain with a splash
"Where are you two going?" his friends ask bemusedly
"I'm going to treat my girl like a slut the way she deserves, Black; if you're not going to help, mind your fucking business"
you spend the rest of the day in his bed, fucking, smoking, eating, fucking, smoking, fucking, reading, fucking again
you'd hardly ever need to worry about feeling needy with him - whenever, wherever, however - consider it done.
517 notes · View notes
ramonathinks · 9 months
Text
Tumblr media Tumblr media
lesson— onyankopon short short short drabble
warnings: (18+) gunplay, ony is in the mafia, mention of violence, cursing, dirty talk, established relationship, fingering (with a gun 💔💔 crazy ik), she/her pronouns
summary: onyankopon teaches you how to shoot a gun for the first time.
“now, you hold it like this.” he helps your body relax, with his hands circling your waist so slightly and his mouth close to the back of your neck.
“can’t believe my pretty girl wants to learn how to do this… don’t you know I’ll protect you? you’re way too soft and sweet for this…” he’s said that about a million times before and he continues to say it, making it more and more clear that he didn’t want to do this. but with his hand on your waist, he kicks your feet more apart — helping you with your stance.
“deep breaths.” you shiver when he says that so close to your ear. “you can’t freeze up, when the moments right you have to make the shot, a skilled person won’t hesitate… no matter how pretty you are, okay? so you can’t take too long. you just got to do it.”
but it was harder said than done. you knew that life with him was dangerous and sometimes even with a million bodyguards that something could happen. you needed to be prepared for it at all costs. “relax your shoulders, make it natural. you’re too tense.” he pinches your shoulders and they drop a bit.
“this is my first time holding a gun, im holding someone’s life in my hands, of course im tense!” you whine, you could feel the tears welling up in your eyes yet again. even though this was your idea and a way to be in his world, it was still so much pressure. you swallowed and your lips quivered. “i just… i wanna be able to do this when i need to but im scared. imma be so useless…”
“hey, look at me…” he taps your chin and you drop your stance. “just being able to admit that you wanna be able to protect yourself is a bit step, remember that. i don’t plan on you ever having to use this this custom baby pink hello kitty gun… i got it for you because you asked. you learned how to put all the bullets in, week one, you learned how to clean it and unjam it, make sure it’s not on the safety. you’re badass mama. stop being mean to yourself… you need me to teach you a lesson?”
that’s how you ended up in the position you were in.
he circled the gun on your clit, dragging it down and watching you twitch. your wetness already all over the gun and he couldn’t help but smile, a twisted little smile. using his fingers he spread your lips a bit more and pressed the gun to your entrance.
then his gun inside of you, twisting and entering you. “so fucking wet. you tryna jam my gun baby? you’re so dirty…” he continues to stretch you out, your juices coating the gun and dripping on to your shared bed.
you dug your fingers into his wrist, trying to get him to slow down at least. “ony— ony, baby… slow down.” but your legs shook and your hips grinder deeper.
“you fucking soaking my glock and you think i can stop? im gonna fuck this pussy up, show you not to talk about what’s mine… don’t ever want to hear you saying anything bad about yourself.” his dick jumped in his pants when he saw your eyes haze over.
“can i just…” your eyes had stars in them. “need to put you in my mouth, let me say sorry.”
your were salivating.
1K notes · View notes
familyvideostevie · 3 months
Text
a kind of hunger | chapter 2
Tumblr media Tumblr media Tumblr media
joel miller x fem!reader
series masterlist
an offer from your employer sets your life on track and throws it into a new kind of chaos at the same time. where does joel miller fit into it all?
length: 5.9k
Warnings: 18+ smut, fem!reader, unspecified age gap, heavy petting, joel having a moment with r's tits, hand stuff, dirty talk, painful sex for a second, riding (p in v sex), like a really small smidge of breeding kink, emotional turmoil from r cause what else is she gonna do, some plot! wow! a/n: finally! another chapter. it’s short but i think we’re getting somewhere. Let me know what you think! huge thank you to @macfrog for your eyes and for keeping my sanity in check and @bageldaddy for teaching me how to use commas, letting me borrow your bar, and telling me to just “slutty hallmark it.” this is for you guys. 
navigation | 𝗺𝗮𝘀𝘁𝗲𝗿𝗹𝗶𝘀𝘁 | 𝗴𝘂𝗶𝗱𝗲𝗹𝗶𝗻𝗲𝘀
---
Bill’s offer costs you one night of sleep and that’s all.
Taking over the bar goes against every rule you've had for yourself up until now, everything that’s kept you going and on your feet.
You lose when you stick around. You get hurt when you get attached. Always keep moving. 
But your night with Joel seems to have shaken something loose. You’ve got a pit in your stomach, a hunger set alight by his eyes and his hands and his attention. It’s like he reminded you how to want, how to stop letting the world turn under your feet and dig in your heels instead.
And there’s what Bill said, the thing that won't leave you alone. You think no one notices, but I notice. We all notice.
It’s easy to lie to yourself about a lot of things: that you don’t mind this life, its constant movement and instability. That it’s made you crafty. That if you picked up and left right now, you’d be fine. No one would miss you, no one would notice. The names and faces you’ve learned would fade as soon as you found new ones somewhere else. 
You’ve been a tight fist your whole life, only hanging onto what can fit into your rough and weathered palm, half-moon crescents bleeding that damn desperate hope you can never seem to scrub off. It means a whole lot of avoiding things that could matter so you can’t lose them, can’t let them slip through your fingers. A family who saw your need for space and control and turned it into isolation and disinterest, who drove you away as soon as you were able to leave. College was a bust. Relationships gone sour have taught you not to rely on anyone. Failed experiment after failed experiment, just looking for something to stick. It’s better to be alone, right?
That tight fist keeps anyone out, anyway. It’s carefully rolled bills in plastic bags in the toe of a pair of sneakers just in case. It’s talking just enough to get you a place to stay, a job, a ride, but not enough that anyone remembers your face, even if you wish they would. 
It’s not one big thing. It’s a million small ones. And nothing ever lasts. You never last; always cutting and running before it can get real, before they can see the truth of you and find it lacking.
You’ve been looking for the missing piece for years now, the thing that will make you feel like you’ve finally made it somewhere where you’re needed enough to stick around. Where you can stop quitting, where you can put down roots. Where you can be wanted.
You just aren’t sure it’s possible. You’ve done so many things, seen so much, that you feel like it’s too late to be anything other than this.
It’s easy to believe all of that until someone like Joel sees through it – until someone like Bill tells you none of it is true. 
Fuck it. 
You call Bill the next morning and tell him you'll take over Frank's. 
According to him, the turnaround will be quick. He'll have someone "official" draw up the paperwork. You tell him you won't change the name. You tell him you will make some repairs, fix the cracked vinyl booths, and give the floors a refinish, and –
"Do whatever the fuck you want," he grumbles over the phone. "It's your bar."
It sure is. 
You own something, now. You belong somewhere – even if it’s just because you have payslips to sign and counters to clean. But maybe this time, if you try hard enough, you can get it right.
You have a meeting to tell the staff that you’re taking over. There are only five of you – two college kids from a town over, the guy who works part-time at the garage by the highway, and an old butch called Pat you find vaguely frightening who’s been working here longer than you care to ask. 
It’s probably the first time all five of you have been in the same room. None of them seem disappointed in Bill’s retirement, and they’re on board with your plan for renovations. Especially after you assure them they’ll be paid even if you close for a bit to get it all done.
Joel doesn't come in. You notice, but don’t spare it too much thought. You can’t because the bar is a fucking nightmare all week.
The keg lines keep blocking, the jukebox dies a sudden staticky death, and some asshole scratches the pool table hard enough to tear up the felt. Everyone and everything is pissing you off. It’s an effort not to spend all of your breaks on that milk crate in the alley with your head in your hands. 
It feels like Frank’s is hazing you. After all you’ve done for it, you feel a little betrayed.
“Why the hell do you think I’m retiring?” Bill says when you call to bitch about it. “This shit is a fuck ton of work.” 
By Friday, you're at your wit's end. 
The rush has come and gone, and now it’s slow. Slow enough that you might be worried, but Pat has told you before that this is just how it is in small towns, sometimes. 
That, or maybe your bad mood scared everyone off. Maybe they're tired of the shitty atmosphere, of the cloudy glasses and squeaking stools, maybe they –
You pop an olive into your mouth.
“Chill the fuck out,” you mutter to yourself. No one is around to hear.
The only patrons left are some bikers at one of the back tables playing cards. Their laughter is too loud without the music going. The mats behind the bar are sticky under your boots, and your temple has started to throb. You feel like locking yourself in the office just for the silence.
The air shifts when Joel steps inside.
The hunger you feel is a familiar fire, coals that stoke themselves and never go out. Lust, infatuation as you take in his broad shoulders and grey-streaked hair. You’re strung out and a fuck might help.
But there’s also a weight in your chest at the sight of him, one you haven’t felt in a while. It sits heavy above that smoldering flame in your belly, a bruise you can’t stop yourself from pressing on.
Maybe part of you expected him to stop coming in after you fucked. Regardless of how it made you feel, you’re just some woman who serves him two fingers of liquor when he wants to run away from his life. Just someone who gave him one good night and nothing more.
But this weight – this big, thorny emotion that looks like affection and attachment and something real – you don’t know what to do with it. 
It’s never been this way with a one-night stand. Yeah, you know the weight of him above you, inside you. You know the taste of his sweat on your tongue, the feel of his head between your thighs. That kind of shit usually doesn’t change anything with you, but Joel is…different. 
Careful, that voice inside you says. 
Joel peels off his jacket and tosses it on the otherwise empty bar, pushing up his sleeves to reveal his tanned forearms. The stool creaks under him and his gaze is heated as it travels over you. He doesn’t bother to hide the fact that he’s looking. 
He shakes his head when you hold up the bottle of whiskey. 
"Water's fine," he says.
You blink. If he’s not here to drink then what is he here for?
He seems like he always does. Relaxed, like the room was made to have him in it. But you look a little closer, now that you figure you can. The deep scar on the bridge of his nose stands out and his cheeks are a little pink. The temperature must have dropped once the sun went down. His jaw isn’t tense so much as set, determined. He rubs his chin with a flat palm as you fill a glass using the soda gun.
“Whatever you want,” you say. 
He looks around the bar. You figure he's taking in the out-of-order signs on the beer pulls, the flickering light pointing to the restroom, maybe even the goddamn ruined pool table. 
You pick up a rag and start to clean to keep your hands busy. 
 “Quiet for a Friday,” he says. "Things goin’ alright?”
You bristle at the implication. It’s been a shitty week, and you don’t need anyone reminding you that you’re probably not cut out for this.
“Fucking peachy,” you snap.
Joel raises an eyebrow, but doesn’t rise to it. "Seems like things are a little tense.”
You swallow a flash of genuine annoyance. 
"All it takes is a roll in the sack and now you're a talker?"
Joel isn't phased. He takes a small sip of his drink, rolls the glass between his hands. Nice hands, you think. Hands that felt so good between your --
"Just makin’ conversation," he says lightly.
You’ve always thought you were hard to read – hell, you’ve been told that many times. One of your flaws, people always say, but it makes it easier to slide in and out of places without too much damage. And yet, Joel, a man who has been in your bed once and sits at your bar when it suits him, sees right through you.
Your shoulders slump.
“I’m just tired,” you tell him.
Joel rubs his beard with one wide palm. He moves his jaw back and forth like he's giving you the chance to shut him down, like he’s chewing on the silence.
"Heard somethin'," he says. "Wondered if it was true. Thought I'd ask." 
"Are you asking?"
He eyes you, takes another sip of his water like it's a tumbler of amber liquid instead. Like anything you pour him is something to be savored.
"Guess so." 
You set the glass down and put your hands on the wood, leaning towards him with your head cocked. 
“Are you keeping tabs on me, Joel Miller?”
“Nah,” he says, eyes flashing before they slide down to your lips. “Ran into Frank in the frozen aisle at the store.”
“And what does that have to do with me?”
The corner of his mouth tugs up. "Known him and Bill a long time." 
That explains why he looks like he belongs here. He's probably been in this room more times than you have. All of the things you don't know about Joel hang in the air between you.
"Does Bill...?" 
Does your buddy know you fucked me in the apartment I rent from him?
Joel shakes his head. "Frank told me Bill was giving the place to one of his employees. Figured it was you."
And that’s that. But it sounds like a compliment.
“Well, it’s me alright,” you sigh, slumping a bit. “And there's a lot of shit to do.”
Joel puts a hand on your forearm. It's a light touch, a quick one, but it sends sparks along your skin. A moth to a flame.
“Ain’t no small thing. Ownin’ a bar. Big deal, if you ask me.”
You roll your eyes but pride swells in your chest. He’s right. It is a big deal. 
And here you are in your bar.
With Joel, who fits into all of this somehow. You just don’t know where yet.
“Yeah, well, I didn’t ask you,” you say with a smirk.
You want to draw it out of him, make him flirt with you for the answers he seems to want. You want something to sink your teeth into after this week, something to play with.
Something to make you feel in control. And that’s what Joel gave you, last time you saw him. He pushed when you pulled, met your touches and your quips with attitude and hands of his own. You felt alive, you felt present. You felt wanted. And it was fun.
If you’re not careful, you might forget what sex was like without that – his attention, his touch. Your name in his mouth. But now that you’re giving staying here a shot, maybe it’s time to indulge. To reach out and take.
Joel snorts. He leans forward and raps his knuckles on the wood. “Should we toast to it?”
You laugh. “I don’t drink on the job.”
He raises his water glass.
“Alright,” you scoff. “Fine.” 
You pour yourself some water and clink your glasses together. Joel’s eyes never leave yours, not when he takes a long sip, not when he sets the glass down. He keeps looking at you with that heavy, unshakable gaze. 
It’s unnerving, the way he makes you feel. You’re still tired, still annoyed, but there's electricity at the base of your spine, the embers in your belly. You want to talk to him. 
You clench your hands around your glass. You want to touch him, too.
“So,” you say. He’s wearing a henley this time, the buttons at the top undone just enough to give you a glimpse of a peak of chest hair. You swallow and flick your eyes back to his. He’s smirking. 
“So,” Joel echoes. “Why’d you take it? The bar.”
You shrug. “Seemed like a good deal.”
“Bill ain’t in the habit of good deals,” he huffs. “He must like you.”
It’s an effort to squash your smile. “I don’t think Bill likes anyone much.”
“Real asshole, ain’t he?” 
That gets a laugh out of you. “Well, he’s your friend.”
“Not much choice in a small town.”
You hum.
The noisy group from the back stumble their way to the door, waving at you as they file out into the night.
“Those idiots ruined my pool table on Tuesday,” you hiss, though you smile at them.
“Gotta be pretty fuckin’ bad at pool to do that.” He looks around and realizes he’s the last one in the bar. “You closin’?”
“It’s only eleven, Joel.” 
His eyes rake up and down your body. Is he thinking about how he touched you, how you fell apart under him? Heat curls lazily in your belly. He runs his finger around the rim of his glass.
“Damn shame,” he says. 
Normally you wouldn’t shut for a few hours, but it’s pretty dead for a Friday and…
And Joel is looking at you like that and you want to touch him.
You don’t mess around with regulars.
You’re already breaking your rules by taking over Frank’s. What’s one more?
The pulse between your legs agrees with you.
“Colin,” you call over your shoulder, stepping back from Joel’s hot gaze. The barback appears immediately.
“Yeah?”
“I’m shutting early. Go home. Tonight’s tips are yours.”
He sputters. “Are you sure?” His gaze flicks to the stacks of glasses behind the bar, the tables that still need wiping down.
“I’ll take care of it. See you next week.” 
He just shrugs and turns on his heel. A minute later the back door slams and you know the kid is gone.
You lift the bridge and slide out from behind the bar. Your boots are loud on the shitty floors with no one in here and each step to the door feels longer than it should because of his damn stare. You feel Joel’s eyes on you as you lock the door and flick off the neon BAR sign that hangs outside.
When you turn around, his eyes are dark.
Joel stays on his stool, one foot on the ground so that his knees are spread wide, watching you. One hand rests on his thigh, thick fingers tapping to a tune only he hears. His other arm is on the wood of the bar, stretching his shirt across his broad chest. 
When Joel looks at you, sometimes it feels like he’s the first person to ever see you.
“Gotta settle up,” he drawls.
“What, you gonna tip me for water?”
“Not exactly,” he says, words dragging in his mouth. “Got somethin’ else in mind.”
The air in the bar sparks and crackles like one of those long Texas summer days when a thunderstorm looms like a threat. The electricity of it crackles down your spine, turns it molten, turns you dangerous. It’s never felt like this before with someone you’ve slept with. Just being close to him is enough to kick your pulse into gear. You feel hyper aware of every part of your body as he looks at you like you’re offering him something better than what you can pour.
Which, you guess, you are. 
“And what would that be?” 
He hums.
“C’mere.”
You can see his cock straining against the front of his jeans. 
“Bossy,” you say. “That for me?” You jerk your chin towards his lap and take your time walking back to him.
He smirks. “You wanna go upstairs?”
As soon as you step between his knees, the hand on his leg moves to your hip. Two fingers sneak under the waistband of your jeans to find bare skin. You brace yourself with one palm on his thigh, another on his neck, and thread his soft hair through your fingers.
“I don’t see why we have to,” you say slowly, watching him carefully. “No one’s here. And I know the owner. She won’t mind.”
The hand on your hip slides further back and his fingers press hard into the swell of your ass. 
“Oh, that right?” he chuckles. “Well, as long as we ain’t breakin’ any rules.”
You’re not sure who moves first. You’ve got a few inches on him by being on your feet so you pull him towards you just as he surges up and your mouths meet sloppily, hungrily. Joel tugs you closer and you dig your fingers into his thigh as he swallows your giddy laugh, his beard scratching your skin deliciously.
You’re going to fuck him. In your bar. 
“Somethin’ funny?” he asks, lips trailing over your jaw. He’s got both hands on you now, one on your ass and the other on your hip, holding you like he expects you to disappear.
“No, not really–” You cut yourself off with a gasp when he nips your pulse point. “Joel.”
He kisses you again, licking into your mouth. You remember the sounds he made in your apartment and tug on his hair. Joel’s moan is your reward. You press close and grind your hips against the hardness in his jeans and he growls.
“Hard as a rock the second I step in this damn place,” he says, holding you there. You pull back to see his lips spit-slick, his pupils blown. Seeing him undone like this by your touch is just as thrilling as it was last time. His teeth scrape down your neck and he unbuttons your jeans.
“Sounds like a – ah – you problem.”
Joel’s fingers drag through the curls above your cunt before he goes where you really want him. You gasp against his temple when he circles your clit.
“Seems to me I’m not the only one,” he rasps.
The fingertips on his thigh become nails digging in even harder when he slips one finger inside you.
“Gonna leave bruises, sweetheart,” Joel says. Your cunt clenches around him. “You like that? Markin’ me?”
“Maybe I do,” you groan. “You left some last time.”
The angle can’t be ideal but Joel fucks you as best as he can with one finger, then two. You drag his face back to yours and suck on his bottom lip, tugging his hair all the while. Every part of you feels like it’s on fire, like you’re burning up from the inside. 
His other hand rucks up your shirt until you tug it all the way off. He pulls down the cup of your bra with one hand and rolls your nipple between his fingers. 
You could come like this, Joel’s hands everywhere. 
Gripping him through his clothes isn’t enough. You scramble to undo his belt and get your hand in his jeans, button popped and fly down. 
He grunts your name when you spit into your palm and take him in hand, velvety soft and tip leaking. 
“Careful,” he hisses. “Don’t want to stop this before it starts.”
“I’ll be gentle,” you say. He thumbs your clit in response and you gasp.
Time blurs with his fingers inside you. Your strokes are lazy but he hisses each time you drag your thumb over his tip. Is it going to be this, you two pawing at each other against the bar until someone bursts?
“Joel,” you gasp. “Joel, I want –”
He finally returns to your clit with a strained smirk. The veins in his neck are visible, telling you it’s getting to him, too. 
“You remember what I said last time?”
Ask for what you want, you hear me? You ask and I'll do my damn best.
You could have him bend you over the bar. You imagine it, quick and dirty, the wood digging into your waist as he slams into you, flesh on flesh. It would be better than last time, you know it. But you want to see him.
You want Joel’s face in your neck, your hands in his hair as he fills you up. You want to watch him fall apart under you.
You dig your nails into him again and he hisses. You lean forward so your lips drag along the shell of his ear.
“I want to ride you, Joel,” you say. 
His eyes flash. He kisses you hard, swirls your clit one more time, and pulls his hand from your cunt. Your knees feel a little weak so you keep your hands on his shoulders. 
Joel brings his fingers to his mouth and licks them clean.
“Gotta get at least a taste,” he says. “Just as sweet as I remember.” You surge forward to kiss him. You can taste yourself on his tongue and he groans into your mouth.
“Alright, baby,” he says, breath a little ragged. He thumbs your nipple again. “Where’re you gonna ride me?”
“Booth,” you manage. “Over there.” You jerk your head back towards the cracked vinyl seats he’s never once sat in since you met him. He pats your hips and you step back. The stool scrapes loudly on the floor as he stands. 
He cups your cheek with one callused palm and just looks. His hair is a mess from your hands, lips swollen from your kisses. And yet he’s looking at you like you’re the answer to all his problems. 
“So damn pretty,” he says.
Somehow you make it to the booth, a tangle of lips and hands, shedding pieces of clothing as you go. Your bra, his shirt, his belt. Shoes toed off and left in a pile, Joel shoves the table between the vinyl benches to the other side so there’s enough room for him to sit, for him to drag down his jeans and boxers and take his cock in one hand. 
Your mouth waters at the sight of it. God, he’s thicker than you remember. One of these days you’re going to take him apart with your tongue.
You could just stand there and admire him but you’re so wet you think you’re going to drip onto the floor. His solid thighs, the dark hair gathered into curls at the base of him trailing up to his navel. If you were a painter you’d put him to a canvas.
Joel spreads his legs wide, and you run a hand down his bare chest before balancing on his shoulder as you step out of your bottoms. It’s almost funny – the two of you naked but for your socks, Joel’s pants around his ankles.
You want him too badly to spare a thought for laughter.
A condom comes from somewhere – his wallet, maybe, or his pocket, you don’t much care – and he slides it on with a hiss. 
It’s different than last time. More desperate but in a fun way – and you know this won’t be the last time. You know each other’s bodies, now, and this can be quick, can be dirty, because you’ll be doing it again.
So you don’t waste any time straddling him. Joel lines his cock up with your entrance, his other hand on your hip.
“You ready?” he asks. You lean in to kiss him and sink down at the same time in response.
You moan in tandem as he fills you, the angle different from when you were on your back, so different. The stretch is deeper, and somehow you feel fuller than last time. It’s overwhelming, it’s all-consuming, it’s a little painful.
“Fuck,” Joel groans. “So tight. I ain’t gonna last long.” 
It really is a tight fit, so tight you think maybe he was right to ask if you could take him without at least one orgasm to prepare you. The girth of him is splitting you in half, stretching you so much you whimper against his mouth.
Joel’s hands cup your face. “Y’okay?” he says, strained. “Hey, talk to me.”
Your eyes are shut tight, knees pressing hard into his solid thighs as you breathe.
“Need a sec,” you say. “It’s different like this, it’s –”
“I know, baby,” Joel murmurs. “Doin’ so good so far.” 
He shifts his hold on you just a little and you whine. The vinyl cracks underneath his shifted weight as he whispers an apology into your shoulder.
The pain of the stretch dulls to an ache and you know what’s just on the other side. You roll your hips and the head of his cock presses exactly where you want it. It sends a shock wave of pleasure through you so intense that you fall forward a little, Joel’s face pressed to your chest.
He presses a kiss to your breastbone, so light you almost miss it as you start to ride him in earnest. Your knees press into the rough vinyl and Joel’s lips find your nipple. 
“Didn’t give these ‘nough attention last time,” he says. “My mistake.”
His tongue laves at your breasts, one after the other as you swirl your hips over and over. You tug on his hair as your thighs start to burn but you keep going. 
Joel’s teeth scrape against your nipples, the skin of your chest as he nips and soothes, nips and soothes. You’re going to be covered in marks tomorrow. 
Maybe it’s the thrill of that, of just seeing him again, maybe it’s how bad you want him, who fucking knows – you’re already so close.
Everything fades away but this. Joel is everywhere, on you, around you, inside you…It’s just the two of you, limbs tangled and sweaty, panting each other’s name.
The smoldering in your belly is a fire climbing higher and higher and you’re going to explode with the heat of it.
Firm, rough-skinned hands hold you steady as you lift and sink, gasping every time he hits that spot inside you. 
“Joel, I –”
His grip turns bruising as he starts to fuck you on his own, the wet smack of his balls filling the bar.
“I know, baby,” he pants. “I know. You hear that? You hear me fuckin’ you? You’re takin’ my cock so good.”
You plant your hands on his shoulders and try to meet his thrusts.
“Swear I dreamed ‘bout this,” he growls. “How wet you were. Those fuckin’ noises you make when I –” He circles your clit with his thumb and you keen. “There we go. Just like that.”
“Joel –
“Gonna ruin this booth,” he says with a rough chuckle. His forehead is tacky when you press yours against it.
“I – fuck – need new ones anyway, don’t I?” 
Joel grins, all teeth as he pounds into you. 
“C’mon, sweetheart,” he says, breath hot on your lips. “Soak my cock. Know you can, so tight and –”
Your orgasm rips through you, a broken litany of Joel and yes and god knows what else torn from your throat as he fucks you through it. His thrusts become erratic and you try to keep your seat as he finishes with a deep groan. 
Joel presses more of those light kisses to your collarbones, the base of your throat, so like the one he left on the back of your hand that first night. You drag your fingers through his slightly sweaty hair.
“I’ll move in a second,” you say, catching your breath. 
“Take your time,” he says. “I ain’t goin’ anywhere.” 
His grip on you is practically gentle, fingers lazily stroking patterns into your skin. You drag a hand up and down his chest. 
It’s tender. It’s…something it maybe shouldn’t be. Something that doesn’t belong in whatever you’re doing. 
You get out of his lap as carefully as you can and stand in front of him, naked. Fucking with a condom is smart and all, but you wonder what it would feel like to have him dripping between your thighs.
He doesn’t hide his stare, though it’s not as charged as before. He’s looking just to look.
“Put your pants on,” you grumble at him. He laughs. 
You scoop your clothes off the floor and head for the bathroom. The tarnished mirror displays your sated smile and bright eyes. You run a hand over the bruises he left on your neck, your hips. Well-fucked is a good look on you. You look exhausted but happy.
Joel is dressed and back at the tabletop when you return. He’s got his usual bottle of whiskey on the wood, two glasses already sporting a pour each. 
“Not workin’ anymore, are you?” he asks you. 
You laugh. “No.”
The soreness starts to settle into your thighs when you take the stool next to him.
The momentary silence isn’t uncomfortable. It is comfortable, which is the strange part. Sitting here with him at your bar after he fucked you a few feet away and sipping at your drinks. 
Joel, for his part, seems unbothered. You can’t figure him out. It makes you feel a little unsteady to know that he sees right through you, but you don’t know what he’s thinking. Would he tell you if you asked?
“So,” he says. “What’re your plans for the place?”
You sigh. A piece of his hair is sticking up and you tuck your hand between your thighs so you don’t smooth it. It’s different with your clothes on.
“There’s a lot to do,” you tell him. “Jukebox is broken. Neon signs need replacing. Plumbing could do with a refresh. I want to refinish the floors, maybe tear off this ugly wallpaper –”
“Make sure you get a good gel for that,” he says. “Shit’s old and won’t come off easy.”
You lean your chin in your hand and shoot him an amused look. 
“Do a lot of wallpaper removal in your spare time?” you ask.
He fiddles with his watch, jaw working around whatever it is he wants to say. 
“I’m a contractor.” 
“Really?”
“Don’t sound so surprised,” he grumbles. “You think I sit on my ass all day?”
Honestly, you don’t know. Most of the thoughts you have about Joel aren’t to do with his job. You have no idea what he does when he isn’t here.
You shrug. Joel rolls his eyes.
“Well, I am,” he drawls. He takes a long sip of his whiskey. “And I know the folks around here who you’ll need. Materials, all that.” 
“Are you offering to help me, Joel?” You keep your voice neutral.
He looks at you head-on. It feels like he’s seeing through you again. “If you want it.”
“If we do that, it has nothing to do with…” You gesture between you. “With this.”
Joel just looks at you, letting you sort out what you want to say. 
“I mean, I don’t want charity, okay?”
He shakes his head. “Ain’t charity. I owe Bill some favors. This’ll square us up. You’ll cover all the other shit, I guess.”
“It’s not his bar, anymore,” you remind him, but it’s a weak protest. 
Joel knocks back the rest of his drink.
You’ve been working out how to finance the renovations all week. All that cash you’ve squirreled away over the years finally has a purpose, other than a cushion in case something really bad happens. It’s looking tight between paying the staff and sourcing the work. You’d only be able to close a week at a time and any delays will fuck the whole thing. 
But if Joel’s offering discounted labor, materials on the cheap? You could get it all done faster, get it done right.
“Why do you want to help me?” you ask. 
Joel huffs and if you knew him better you’d say it was in offense. 
“Let’s just say I’m invested in the state of this place,” he says. “And you really gotta replace those booths.”
Your face feels hot. “Asshole.”
“So,” he says. “You interested?”
It’s not a bad idea. Hell, it might even be a good one. Money aside, Joel, whatever his story is, is connected in this town, and if you’re staying it would do you some good to start making some connections of your own. Start settling.
The fist in your chest, your heart, your mind – it loosens just a little bit. 
“I’m interested.”
Joel knocks on the bar once, twice, and stands. He digs in his back pocket for his wallet and hands you a business card with his phone number. 
“I’ll be here Monday morning,” he says. “We can start goin’ over stuff, figure out when you wanna close. All that. Call me anytime. Sound good?”
You just nod. The fatigue is starting to hit and Joel must be able to tell because he just smiles at you.
“Goodnight, boss lady,” he says. “Put the whiskey on my tab.”
Joel grabs his jacket and unlocks the door, sliding into the cool night with a wave. 
“You don’t have a tab, asshole,” you mutter, but you’re smiling a little. 
It feels like pieces are falling into place.
You know you could get the bar fixed up on your own. But with Joel’s help, it’ll get done faster and you might even have some money left over at the end of it. 
It’s a lot all at once. But for some reason, it feels different this time. It’s not another job about to fall through, not another relationship going south because you got spooked. It’s not you getting bored and cutting your losses. 
You want this. You want it to work. Usually, you’d have left by now, before you got too attached, but it’s too late so you’re going to make it work. 
This thing with Joel, though – you’re going to have to be careful. If you’re not, it’ll run away from you and – well. You don’t want to lose control of it.
You look around the bar and sigh. Unwiped tables, a booth that no one should sit in, floors to clean. A few hours of work before bed. 
You know you’re going to spend them trying not to think about the man who just left. 
thank you for reading <3 reblog, send feedback!
689 notes · View notes
ja3hwa · 4 months
Text
♡ 𝐇𝐮𝐫𝐭𝐬 𝐋𝐢𝐤𝐞 𝐇𝐞𝐥𝐥 | 𝐀𝐥𝐭𝐞𝐫𝐧𝐚𝐭𝐢𝐯𝐞 𝐄𝐧𝐝𝐢𝐧𝐠 ♡
Tumblr media Tumblr media
【Synopsis】 : It's been so long since you've seen your boys. And when the youngest comes knocking on your door, the new life you had only just managed to build comes crashing down.
『Word count』 :  4.8k
-> Genre: Mafia au. Angst. Fluff.
Pairing: Mob Boss!Ot8 Ateez x Reader
[Warnings] : lots of heart ache. The reader is beside herself a lot. Blood. Gore. Death. Torture. Reader gets kidnapped. Tears. Hugging. Lots of cry. Grovelling (we stan a good grovel). And yeah, lots of angst but fluffy at the end. Kissing. Mingi got a dirty mind. Whoops.
Note: uh, so hi. Ahha It's been a while... I finally decided to actually finish the alt ending of this fic. I've had people ask for more, and I honestly forgot about it. But then i saw someone send in THIS request, and it made me want to finish this. So this can be read as a stand-alone. But if you want to read part 1 and the other ending. Go ahead, otherwise enjoyyyyy ♡
Part one | Other Ending
Masterlist | Navigation
Tumblr media
You were alone. Wandering through life with nothing to hold onto. You were going underwater, and no one was around to help you above the heavy waves. You were numb. Heartbreak ridding you of happiness… Or so you thought.
Through a bottle or two... Maybe three or four. You found at the end of it. You were just as unhappy as you were before you took the first sip. You needed a change. A change of scenery. A change of personality. A completely new life. So there you were two towns over. Maybe not a whole country away from the old you, but this was just as good. A new apartment. New job. Architectural design. You enjoyed it, so dearly. It became something that kept you going. That kept you waking up. You were fighting for a glimpse of happiness in mornings that were still hard, and nights were just as restless as ever.
You were alone. Yes. But you tried.
It's been two whole years. You think you’d forgotten everything by now. But the biggest, deepest pain didn’t seem to heal as quickly as everyone says it does. Fucking Liars…
You were having a break from your long hours of sketching a new mansion floor plan, a private owner wanted it done within the week and for a heavy price and as much as it was a distraction you couldn't help but think how the design the private buyer seemed to want a floor plan that resembled something that one of your old lovers would have loved. The vintage vibe with a green and gold theme matched Mingi and Yunho perfectly. Your brain almost thought maybe they were the private buyer. But why would they go to you after what you had ‘apparently done’ to them? Before you could dwell on the idea anymore, the sound of your doorbell broke your gaze from the large sketch in front of you.
You question why someone would be visiting you at this hour, given that most of your clients would email you beforehand and your ‘friends’ would text. So, who could possibly be at your door? Your heart thumped strangely as if your body knew who was beyond the large oak before you. A ball started to form at the base of your throat. Was this anxiousness you were feeling? Gripping the silver handle, you creek the door open slowly, and when your gaze met the other person you feel your heart stop. 
“Hi…”
You looked at the man with a dumbfounded expression, tilting your head in confusion. Hi? After all these years, hi is what he starts with. What does he take you for? A hopeless woman needing a man to catch her when she falls?
You go to shut the door without a second thought, but he catches it in his strong arms. The same arms that used to hold you. Shield you from all the danger―no stop you didn’t need them when you were completely broken and you most certainly don’t need them now.
“Please let me explain. Honey, I just…” He was scrambling to find his words, his breath catching his throat like he was running a marathon prior to this interaction. “I wanted to see you…tell you.”
“I don’t want to hear it, Jongho.” You finally spoke, silently yelling at yourself for sounding so shaky in your voice when you wanted to be mad, tone-deaf, blunt. But here you are, wanting to cry cause of the anger surging through you. Why must you always cry when you get mad. “You don’t get to come here after almost two fucking years, call me honey and tell me how much you miss me and think I’ll just fall back into your arms as if nothing happened.”
“T-that’s not what I want nor expect from you. I just want―I don’t care what you want. Now get off my porch.” You cut him off, slamming the door in his face before breaking down the minute you heard the latch click. Your legs buckle, sliding down the door before your knees hit the ground, sobbing into your hands. Your heart was breaking all over again, just like the night you left. You wanted nothing more than to run after him, beg him to hold you. But you couldn’t. They hurt you so much. How do you even begin to forgive them for what happened all those years ago?
-
Through the next months, you kept receiving letters, flowers, and gift boxes. Even teddy bears. Why would they give you teddy bears? You think they would have known you from being with them for so long. Throwing yet another soft plush toy on the ever-growing pile that sat in your office. You were beginning to become sick of it. You thought after you yelled at Jongho, he and the others would have gotten the hint, but you guess being dumped by eight mob bosses wasn’t as easy as you thought.
Sighing, you click your tongue, looking at the stack of letters you have yet to burn. You can’t even be bothered to open them, not wanting to even listen to anything they might have to say. But another part of you was curious. Maybe one letter couldn’t hurt, right? Reaching for the one on the top, your fingers grasp the small paper. It’s rough against your skin. Like the paper was made from a poor-quality tree. Odd? Why would your ex-lovers gift you such cheap gifts? Not that you were expecting high-priced gifts, but they had enough money to buy half the world, so you think them getting something with a heavier price tag wouldn’t matter. Something wasn’t right. Something wasn’t adding up. 
But before you could think of anything else, a loud, almost anger-filled knock comes from the front door. Your body was suddenly on high alert. Goosebumps erode all over your skin as a sickening feeling clouds your head. Grabbing your letter opener―just in case―you walk slowly towards the noise. Thoughts ran through your head in time with the beats of your racing heart. You knew walking towards the suspicious noise was a bad idea, but what else could you do? Whoever was there would know you were home by the lights being on or how your car is parked in the driveway. You couldn’t just pretend you weren’t home, no matter how hard you wanted to try. 
Your fingers graze the door handle, feeling your breath hitch. You twist it slowly until you hear the creek of the door hinges swing inwards. You brace yourself for whoever it was, but what you are met with confused you. The porch was empty?
No one in sight…
But you certainly heard a loud knock. You were going crazy… were you? You huff, straightening up, feeling relief wash over you. Maybe it was some kids pranking the neighbours again, and you were their target for the day. Who knows. You click the door closed, but you lock it this time because even though you see no threat, you wanted to be sure. Entering your office again you walk over to the letters in order to continue what you were doing but when your eyes gaze over the pieces of paper you notice the one you were going to open wasn’t on the table. Where did you go? You thought, placing the letter opener on the table so you could place your hand on the edge of the oak desk so you could look under it. You looked everywhere and couldn’t seem to find it. It was like it had vanished. But…was that a flash? Something caught your eye.
Looking at the teddy bears, you see the letter sitting in the lap of one of the plushies. Tilting your head you notice a little red flash like as if there was a recor―Your eyes snap open stumbling back slightly before turning to run but your body is met with a very broad object and then before you can get any baring on what or who was in behind of you, everything went black.
-
It was like the world was spinning, your head pinging with an aching pain from the left side of your skull. You tried to open your eyes and look around, but you quickly figured out you were blindfolded and bound to what seemed to be a chair. Typical. Why is it that whenever someone gets kidnapped, they get tied to an old wooden chair? Why couldn’t it be a couch or one of those soft deck chairs? You could hear some scampering around you, three, maybe four people had entered the room you were in. You can smell their shitty cheap cologne that they most likely think bend women at the knees. You knew what kind of people they were before even seeing them. 
“Well well. Looks like my men have caught a pretty mouse of us to play with.” The heavy voice echoed around the room, hinting to you that you were most likely in an open area. A warehouse, maybe? “You are gonna be my ticket to freedom songbird.” 
You had to cringe at the pet name that fell from his lips. The name you were known as in the mafia world. More specifically, Ateez’s Songbird. You tried to sit still, hoping to show a fraudulent sense of confidence, but in reality, you were petrified. You no longer had the eight men you loved dearly to save you. Then again, you had no one to save you. Most of your friends lived out of town and wouldn’t even come to the rescue if you begged. You were alone with these men. Blindfolded and at their will. The man you assume was talking before lifted your blindfold off, seeing your eyes suddenly gaze upon the piercing light from the headlamp above you. You can see your suspicions were correct, four men ranging from sizable jock build to more lean ones but in the end, they were all ghastly, staring you down as if you were nothing more than a piece of meat.
“I want to know where Ateez is….” The grunt that escaped from the immoral male smelled of booze and low-quality cigars. His eyes were painted his redness, as if he hadn't slept in days, weeks even. He was boarding insanity at this rate by his expression. “Well come on, I know you know where they are, and to be blunt, I need them dead. You know business and all.” He rambles, walking around your figure while you sit there listening to his utter bullshit. His words remind you of when a villain in the story starts blabbering to the captor about how they needed to defeat the hero in order to take over the world. But in this case, both sides are just as villainous as each other, and the “world” that’s referenced is stocks… weapons, contraband, drugs, money. The list goes on and on.
“Why are you so quiet, Songbird? Protecting your lovers?” 
Now that one made you laugh, shaking your head in annoyance. Argh, what you would give to be home with a strong whiskey in hand right now. Your reaction sent a shocked expression to the disgusting man's face. He expected you to plea, beg for him to not hurt Ateez, to not hurt the loves of your life and yet here you sit, laughing right in his face like he had just said the most entertaining thing to you.
“I don’t know where they are.” You finally spoke, a sadistic smile painted your face. To never backed down from his gaze, almost trying to intimidate him with your blazed stare. “Why would I know, or care where they are? They don’t care about me.”
His paced. Fuck. He thought. Did his men really just kidnap you for no reason? He was going to shoot someone for this. He began to sweat, you were his only hope of getting the men he hates, attention. And now you were useless. His hand raked through his hair, coming down to scratch the stubble on his chin. What is he going to do with you now? Looking back at you his eyes slid down your body from head to toe, as if he was a predator sizing up his prey. You felt a sudden uneasiness. Maybe telling the man that held your life in his hand you were useless, wasn’t your greatest idea.
He moved away, whispering to one of his men before he sent him off, turning back to you straight after. He stepped one foot in front of the other in a slow and formed way, as if he had come up with the best plan in history. His devious smile brought a lump in your throat and the way he leaned down in front of you, placing both hands on the chair arms so he was face to face with you. “Well, little dove. We can find other uses for you, hmm?”
An idea popped into your head, and maybe it was your hotheadedness or your sheer stubbornness to do things out of spite. Bringing your body back slacked against the chair frame, you watched as his smirk grew, thinking he had finally managed to scare you, but before he could react, you whipped your head forward. Your forehead smashes against his nose with a sickening crack, and a blood-curtailing scream follows. The man gripped his nose with a sharp hiss. You could see blood pouring down like a waterfall from his nose, spilling all over his clothes and floor. Your blurred vision and ache in your skull doesn’t last long as you shake your head. You can see his men crowding around him to see if he is okay.
“Bitch!” He swore, standing up straight from his crouched position to stomp over to you and slap you clean in your face, making you and the chair fall over, smacking your side against the concrete. You can feel your wrist twist before popping out of place from the impact. Your elbow scraped against the harsh floor along with your arm, making you feel the sensation of your blood escaping through the broken skin. A cut on the top of your head also spilled some blood onto the floor making a headache begin to form. Maybe this wasn’t your best idea.
“Get the kit. I wanna teach this whore a lesson.” He spat out some blood that spilled into his mouth from his nose.
“whore? I thought it was bitch? Or as it little dove?” you need to shut your mouth but you choose to keep pushing his buttons. Idiot. He kicked you square in the gut making you hitch your breath before almost coughing up a lung at the pain. Your watered eyes could now barely see as you tried to blink the tears away. You spot out the corner of your eye a bag of what you could only guess, torture tools. Great, now you really fucked up.
-
You had passed out at least two or three times, and every time, you were woken up by ice-cold water to the face. The temperature of the water stung your opened wounds and burned at your hot red flesh. Time was absent to you, not knowing how long you’d been sitting, tied to the comfortable chair. God, your limbs were gonna ache once you were able to get out. that’s if you get out. 
Maybe you will die here. The irony. Dying in a place of crime in a life of anguish when you so desperately tried to run from it. To try so hard to clean up and forget the darkness that lingered in your past. But in truth, you missed. As sicken as it sounded. You missed the violence, the thrill, the wealth and power. You missed being feared by your enemies and adored by your lovers. Call you sadistic for finding nostalgia in torture, but it was true. Even if you were the one who was currently being hurt, you couldn’t help but smile weakly.
“I found her!!” A muffled voice and sounds of gunshots echoed around you. But you were so dazed you couldn’t seem to pinpoint the noise. Your eyes were fuzzed, and blood tainted your view. Everything was happening so fast until you saw the stillness.
“Y-yuyu?” Your eyes glossed, seeing a blurred figure that resembled Yunho. But it couldn’t be him, could it? You must be dreaming, finally getting ready to leave this plane, but why would your guardian angel look like Yunho?
“I’ve got you, baby. Hold on.” You had already passed out for the final time before you would hear another word slip from your ex-lover's mouth. His rough hands gripped the rope that bounded your hands, cutting it away with his pocket knife. He snaked his arm under your legs and on your lower back, picking you up from the old wooden chair with ease. Your blood had pooled on the floor and now trailed behind Yunho as he jogged with you in his arms. His suit was now tainted red from you, but he couldn’t care less. The only thing on his mind was getting you to safety and maybe killing some assholes along the way. 
-
To say you couldn’t explain the pain surging through your body was correct. You had never experienced such torture before, and man, you were definitely regretting some of the stupid shit you had said to the low-life mob boss earlier. Your vision was still so blurred, and your head was ringing. You could faintly see a bedside with a clock on it. But the face was dark like it was unplugged. You know this place. You remembered the smell of vanilla and pine. You remembered the dark spruce bed frame and emerald forest green bed sheets. You weren’t thinking when you started to snuggle into the bedding, inhaling the comforting scent.
You missed his smell. You missed being in this bed. God, you didn’t realize how much you missed them. You wanted to be strong. You didn’t want them, didn’t want to forgive them. But the comfort…. tears were falling from your cheeks onto the silk pillow. You were sobbing, and your mind was beside itself. One part screaming at you, telling you to suck it up and leave. But on the other side, you were so tired. So, so…tired…. and all you wanted was your boys. 
“Sugar…” You froze, hearing the man that belonged to the bedroom. His deep voice, velvet and smooth. You could hear a crack in it like he had been in tears prior. You didn’t move, frozen with fear, because you knew if you looked at him in those beautiful brown eyes, you would be done for. “Baby, are you awake?”
He knew you were, but he didn’t want to approach you without knowing if it was okay. He knew by the way you looked at them last time you saw them that you had feared them. Something he never wanted to see in your beautiful innocent gaze. Torment that he and the others caused. He would never forgive himself, so he understood if you never did either. “I want to go home…”
You didn’t know what else to say. So god damned scared to stay cause if you did, you might not leave. And you couldn’t do that. What they put you through. You couldn’t possibly begin a relationship with them again… right? “Mingi, please take me home…” you felt so small calling for him, you didn’t want to be surrounded by his scent but at the same time, you didn’t so much as budge from the covers. You didn’t want him to be near you, but yet when he sat down on the edge of the bed, your body was screaming to be held by him. Everything was so messed up. Why did it have to end up like this? Why was this your ending with them?
Mingi couldn’t find his wording, his hand coming up to your covered shoulders, putting a firm but gentle touch on it. He wanted nothing more than to hold you, kiss you. Make love to you while repeating how sorry he was over and over while he caused you to come over and over. “I missed you…” His voice cracked. “We all have…” better now than never to explain himself, right? “After the first couple of weeks, we found out that those pictures were faked. A way to manipulate us into crumbling our empire. They thought if they could put us all at each other's throats. I guess they won…”
“How did you find they were fake?” You asked in a whisper, keeping your face covered with the bed sheet. 
“Another anonymous tip went off that San was ‘sneaking’ around with some guy. But Wooyoung was quick to debunk it cause San was with him that whole week. So we quickly found out that this was a ploy to rip us all apart… which worked.” Mingi regretted every word he spoke. They managed to find out San was innocent quicker than you. San was lucky he had an alibi, though unlike you, that was away without their knowledge, just trying to buy a gift for your anniversary... god, they were so stupid...
“It...Worked?” You were confused about that since it only caused you to leave. From your knowledge, the boys were all still together? Mingi sighed, standing up, which caused you to peek out from your hiding spot to see him pouring a whiskey from the small bar in the corner of the room. Before downing the amber-coloured liquor.
“Seonghwa and Hongjoong became obsessed with work. They’ve become biter…” He took another shot of the harsh liquor. “Cruel… The number of people they’ve put in the dungeons just from looking in their direction wrong.”
You felt sick, flashes of them yelling at you, cursing you. The image of them with that anger plus a gun. You felt sorry for any of the suckers that were unlucky enough to gaze at them wrong. You tangled your fingers into the soft sheets, playing with the velvet fabric. You note how the hand that had popped out earlier was still slightly swollen and numb, making you barely able to feel the fabric on your right fingertips. “W-What about the others…”
“Jongho spent most of his time looking for you. Spying on you. Seeing all the achievements you have made.” He sounded proud of you for a moment like he sought knowledge of your life from the youngest. “Yeosang drove himself into his computer work, taking on small tasks in the outer parts of the city. If we hadn’t said we brought you home, he would have still been hiding somewhere.” He flicked his hand in the air, scoffing slightly.
“San and Wooyoung changed the most when you left. They became lost without you, distant… different. Like the sunshine was ripped from their life, and darkness consumed them.”
He took a seat at the end of the bed again. You had sat up, crossing your legs, eyeing his figure. He has gotten bigger than the last time you’ve seen him. He’s bulked up, and from what your memory could recall, Yunho was bigger as well. The way his arms felt being around you as he carried you to safety were definitely bulkier. “And what about you? Yunho?”
He huffed, glancing up at you. His hand was so close to your covered legs. So close yet so far. “Yunho and I are…fine. We missed you.”
You knew fine meant they were both struggling just as much as the others. You shifted, moving a little closer to him. Your heart was still aching, but your body was craving to feel some warmth. and at this point, you were so tired. Tired of fighting, tired of running. Tired of anyone telling you who or how to live your life? who cares if you run back to your exes? Who cared if you decided you move back with them? It’s not like you have friends or family that would tell you otherwise. All you had was them. Eight cruel mob bosses who would do anything for you and who were scared when they thought you had betrayed them. “I missed you too.”
His wide, glossy eyes snapped to yours. Like he had just heard someone spill the secret to life itself. His mouth went dry, a lump forming in his throat. He didn’t know what to say. He wanted to spill his guts about how much he missed your smile and missed your laugh. Missed the way you would tease him for being too clingy, but yet you were just as clingy in the next breath. He missed the way your body would melt against his on cold nights, searching for warmth. Or how you would fit so perfectly around his….
“Min…You mind is wondering…” You knew his tells, and you knew he was sinking into his mind. 
“I uh…I’m just trying to find the words to say I’m sorry without it sounding like it was an excuse.”
“I believe you’re sorry, mingi. I believe you are all sorry. It doesn’t change or fix what happened. And it’s going to take time for me to trust you all again. But…” You leaned over, placing your hand on his shaking thigh. “I do forgive you.”
He broke.
“We don’t deserve your forgiveness. We don’t deserve you…” Tears were falling down his red cheeks, making you jump to wipe each one away without a second thought. You hadn’t realized how close you were until you noted the smell of the whiskey on his breath and the warmth of his body radiating to yours.
“You might not deserve me. But who is here to tell me to stay away…” he gave you a smile. You didn’t want to forgive him or the others fully per se, but you did want this push-and-pull game. This cruel twisted game of forbidden love. 
“The others are going to want to see you…” He spoke cautiously, afraid you might recoil away from him if he spoke too loudly. You just sighed, lowering your hands into your lap once again, sitting back. You could feel your wounds with every movement, but it wasn’t as painful as before. They must have given you some painkillers prior to when you were passed out. You were about to speak when a sudden thud was heard, quickly followed by a bunch of hushed whispers. You couldn’t help but smirk at the childishness, for angry mafia kings they sure know how to act like goofballs.
“They’re outside aren’t they?” You cocked your brow, giving Mingi a simple straight expression. He just rubbed the back of his neck with a small whisper of, ‘Sorry.’
You rolled your eyes, telling him to let them in. Your heart might have been racing faster than a race car, but you tried to hide the growing anxiousness with a plain expression. You were going to hear them all out. You were going to hug San and Wooyoung as they sobbed on the end of your bed with mumblers of ‘I’m sorry.’ over and over again. You were going to give Yeosang a knowing look, so he knew that his silence was accepted and that you weren’t mad. You were going to thank Yunho for saving you, and he was going to kiss your palm as you held his cheek briefly.
And you were going to cry.
Sob at how Hongjoong sat on his knees, grovelling for your forgiveness and pleading how he was so messed up for not believing you. You’d all cry seeing the leader so vulnerable. And Seonghwa. Your darling, hwa… you would see such sorrow in his eyes. But you would let him kiss your cheek, hold you for a moment. Let him have you for a moment while you get your mind into check.
This was not a redemption. This was not forgetting. But a new chance.
Not a new chapter but a new book entirely.
You were going to grow, do your own thing. Be with them while you find yourself. And maybe, just maybe. You’d take Jongho’s offer all those years ago…and finally say yes…
— ♡
668 notes · View notes
erwinsvow · 22 days
Note
no but like imagine kook!reader coming to save jj at the midsummer like a ‘princess in shining amour’ and jj’s not only relishing in it, topper and kelce are peeved but rafe is seething seeing his girl friend with her arm wrapped around jj’s bicep, gently pulling him away from his little ambush of the blond pogue.
Tumblr media
"why is it always like this? why can't you guys behave for once? are you not embarrassed? i'm ashamed on your behalf," you lecture, standing in between jj and your three idiotic best friends.
it seemed nothing ever changed with them, no matter how much they insisted they would stop giving pogues a hard time and just act normal for once.
you were angry, rightfully so, since there was nothing you hated more than when rafe took out his anger on jj, just because the two of you were friends, just because you didn't despise jj the way he did.
but why would you? your other girl friends always bought weed from him, and he was always sweet and charming and funny. he hadn't done anything to incite rafe's anger besides talk to you, and you were sick of dealing with it. after all, if rafe didn't have the nerve to just ask you out, you weren't gonna deal with his possessive crap.
you progress into cursing them out, smacking top's arm when he tries to interrupt, keep an arm on jj's chest to push him away when rafe gets him riled up again.
"please, just stop, rafe, you're being such a dick-"
"yeah rafe, c'mon, listen to your girl here. thanks for the save, princess, i mean your little friends here are out for my hide-" jj starts, holding the hand on his chest and taking it into his own, and rafe lunges towards him again.
"shut up, fuckin' pogue, don't touch her-"
"seriously, get it together. god." you finish finally, turning back to apologize to jj again. he's bleeding from his lip, a huge bruise on his face. you think your friends did this, turning back to shoot them one last dirty look. "do you need ice, jj? i can go get some."
"sure thing. thanks princess." you wrap your hand around jj, leading him away back towards the bar. jj turns back around to say something else but you lean in close, whispering something in his ear that makes the blond smile. he wraps his arm around your shoulder, hand on your exposed skin, bringing you into a hug while walking out.
"he's got some fucking nerve," topper starts, fixing his tie and staring back at rafe for his reaction.
"what the hell was that? now she's friends with maybank?" kelce asks, but rafe ignores them both, talking mostly to himself.
"friends? with maybank? over my dead fuckin' body. yeah, i'll fuckin' see about that."
Tumblr media
284 notes · View notes
thealtoduck · 3 months
Text
Forbidden Fruit
Tumblr media
Theon Greyjoy x Male Reader
Warnings: Smut, Theon in his asshole era, anal sex, loss of virginity, doggy style, use of the word ”whore”, use of the word ”maiden” for a virgin man because it’s a thing in the GoT/Asoiaf, Theon referring to your ass as a ”cunt”, rough sex, unprotected sex, breeding, spit as lube, everyone kinda wants to fuck you too…
Summary: Theon has his eyes set on you and wants to be your first…
——
The sounds swords clanging against each other rang out over the courtyard of Winterfell as Theon Greyjoy and Robb Stark practised their swordfighting. Both of them in full focus on the task of beating the others.
Theon was just about to land a winning strike when someone behind Robb distracted him, stealing his focus. A beautiful young man, Y/n Poole, the son of the steward of Winterfell. Theon was distracted just long enough for Robb to be able to knock him to the ground.
”Come on Theon, keep your eyes on your opponent” Robb said annoyed and turned to see what Theon had been looking at, his eyes landing on you. ”Y/n, the steward’s son?” Robb questioned his friend. ”I’ve heard one of the chefs claim he took his virginity but he was drunk so i think he might have lied” Robb gossiped as he continued looking at you.
”I wouldn’t mind fucking him myself” he then said to the annoyance of Theon. ”Oh please, is the little lord Robb Stark gonna fuck the steward’s son?” Theon mocked him. ”He needs someone to take his boy cunt like the little whore he is” Theon said looking hungrily towards you as you were talking to a couple of castle guards.
”And that’s going to be you?” Robb questioned sarcastically. But Theon wasn’t listening he was already planning.
——
That night during dinner…
Theon watched you as you sat next to Jon, chatting cheerfully. Theon needed to catch you alone. Luckily for him he’d get his shot soon… You were also sat next to Sansa Stark which put you in the crossfire between her and her sister Arya’s never ending war.
Arya loaded her spoon with a piece of meat pie and launched it towards Sansa… but she missed hitting your chest, dirtying your light grey tunic. ”Arya! Look what you did?!” Sansa scolded her younger sister. ”I’m so sorry about her” Sansa apologised frantically as she tried to wipe of your shirt with a cloth napkin.
”Don’t worry about it Lady Sansa, i’ll just go change” you said calmly, standing up from the table and walking off. Theon saw this was his chance to finally meet you alone.
He soon managed to sneak away from the the dining hall. He stopped by the kitchens and snagged two goblets and a pitcher of wine, then he made his way through Winterfell castle towards the small part occupied by Steward of Winterfell and his family.
He knocked on the door he knew belonged to you. ”One moment” came your voice from the inside. Then the door opened revealing you in a nightshirt and underwear, you quickly wrapped yourself in a thin blue robe to cover up more for you’re unexpected visitor.
”Theon” you said happily at sight of him. ”Sorry, i’m not more properly dressed i was just about to go to bed” you said tying your robe. ”Oh no worries” he said with a flirty smile, you were gonna be even less dressed once he was done with you.
”How can i help you?” you asked. ”Oh, i just wondered if you’d like to have quick drink with me” he said holding up the pitcher and the two goblets he brought. You looked unsure. ”If your not too tired of course” he quickly added.
”Of course, a drink wouldn’t hurt” you said and held open the door for him, letting him in to your bed chamber. Theon observed the room, it was smaller than his own. It had a small square window with a nice view. A little fire place where a fire was burning, heating up the cold castle room.
A square table with a set of two chairs and a clothing chest right next to it. And finally the bed, which was draped in soft blankets. Above it hung a banner for your House, House Poole. The room was textbook definition of what Theon would describe as cozy.
You sat down in one of the chairs by the table, as Theon put the goblets on the table, pouring wine in each and then putting the pitcher down. He sat down in the other chair, you both grabbed your goblets. ”Cheers” Theon said and you clinked your goblets together and drank.
The two of you talked for a while. Theon decided to start testing the waters. He moved his leg slightly making it rest against yours, your eyes drifted to his leg for half a second before you looked back to him but you didn’t move away.
Time passed as you told Theon a story, once you finished it became quiet through the chamber. ”You’re really pretty you know” Theon stated boldly filling the silence in the room. Before you had time to respond Theon started talking ”Some of the staff has been talking about it, how they want to fuck you. Even the lordling Robb Stark said so”.
”And i understand them, you are very pretty” he continued. You looked rather unsure what to answer. ”Tell me Y/n, have you ever been fucked before?” Theon asked shamelessly, leaning closer to you. ”I… no, i have not” you told him, trying to stay casual.
”Would you like to be?” Theon then asked immodestly, leaving you slightly stunned. ”By-…By you?” you asked, Theon gave you a smirk as comformation. ”I-I wouldn’t know what to do” you said shyly. Theon played with the strings of your night shirt and said ”Don’t worry, i’ll show you”.
He then pulled you in to a kiss, his lips pushing hungrily against yours. Theon pulled you both up from your seats leading you to the middle of the room as you made out. Theon pulled of your robe, then his own jacket and he continued until you were both left naked in front of each other.
Your dick had gotten erected from Theon’s sudden interest in you and it made Theon’s own manhood swell with pride. He took your wrist in his hand and guided your hand over his slightly fuzzy chest down to his erect manhood. It was the first time you had ever touched another man in such a manner.
He made you enclose your fingers around his hardend cock and tug at it a little, rubbing him off slowly. ”Feel what you do to me Y/n” he uttered.
He led you backwards towards your beds and your naked bodies climbed up on it. Theon laid you down on the bed and the two of you passionately made out. Theon moved his hands to you ass and let his fingers graze against your hole.
You were unfamiliar with his action as you had never experienced it before but let Theon continue. He slowly started pushing his finger inside you, making you audibly gasp against his lips at the feeling of being streched out. ”That’s right relax” Theon instructed.
Once he added next finger he did it more hastily, making you yelp quietly. Theon let out a small chuckle ”Such a warm nice cunt for me to fuck” Theon said before shoving in a third finger.
Theon then stood up on his knees, he grabbed you and positioned you on all fours, ass spread out in front of him. He spit in to his own hand rubbing it on his manhood. ”I’m gonna take you like a real lord would” Theon said which you wasn’t sure if it was a statement or a warning.
Theon didn’t waste any time and started pushing his rockhard cock inside your virgin hole, making you groan, feeling yourself be filled. ”Fuck your tight around my cock” Theon said pleasureably sheathing himself fully inside you.
Before you had time to adjust he snapped his hips forwards thrusting into you making you release a small cry. ”Was this what he had meant? Was this how lords fucked their wives?” you thought to yourself.
Theon grabbed your hips and started setting a pace a his hips thrust against your ass. His raw cock forcing your walls to stretch, you released several whines as Theon roughly plowed in to you. ”Fuck Theon, you’re so big” you said through your pained but pleasured moans.
Theon grabbed your head as he pounded your ass saying ”What would your steward father say? Seeing his son deflowered by Eddard’s Stark ward like some common whore”. As he thrusted as hard in to you as his body would let him.
”Maybe i should go get him after this and make him come look at his son’s cum stained ” Theon said cockily. You however couldn’t answer him as you had your face pressed against the matress moaning endlessly from the ecstasy of Theon’s cock fucking you.
”Maybe i should start coming by every night and make good use of your cunt and fill you with my seed” he suggested, his thrusts rocking your bed back and forth. ”Shame you can’t have my bastards” he added.
From the endless groans to the creaking bed, you hoped no one could hear you getting your virginity fucked out of you by Theon. You felt your own cock twitching getting close to your orgasm. ”I’m gonna cum” you moaned. And soon after your load dripped down on the sheets below.
Theon kept plowing in to you for several minutes, claiming your ass as his. Sweat glazed his and your body as the room had gotten hot and damp. He grunted and uttered a satisfied ”I’m gonna fill you with my cum”.
With one last rough thrust Theon shoved his manhood deep inside you, his cock erupting staining your innocene with his warm seed. He then pulled out of you with a smirk, seeing his cum leak out of puckered hole and running down your legs. You collapsed on to the matress below in exhaustion.
Theon was just about to get ready to leave but he couldn’t leave you like this. He covered your nakedness under the covers and blankets. He then started getting dressed and before he left planted a kiss on your forehead saying ”You were so good to me, Y/n, better than any common whore, you were divine”. He then gave you a last kiss before he left your bed chambers with a smirk and a feeling of satisfaction, and maybe even a little bit of love.
382 notes · View notes
seduzist · 4 months
Text
one more time
wanda maximoff x fem!reader
summary. a failed marriage couldn’t stop you both to have a fun night, right?
cw. a little angst, smut, g!p! wanda and reader are milfs lol, drinking, smut, dirty talk, degradation, basically porn with plot. i wrote this really sleepy when i wake up i will proofread, sorry.
Tumblr media Tumblr media Tumblr media
you liked to think of yourself as a great, great mother, and hardly someone would say the opposite, you only lets your twins eat candy on weekends, always do your best at birthday parties and were the most caring and lovingly as a mother can be without getting weird or overprotective. 
but on the last week you felt you really needed some time with adults, not that you didn’t loves with your whole heart every second you spent with your kids, but you really needed to have a casual conversation with someone who doesn’t believe in santa anymore, or that doesn’t ask you how much is 100 plus infinite, or you would lose it. 
so, when your coworker asked you to go for a coffee after your shift you thought twice about the idea of call your ex-wife and ask her if she could catch the twins after school and maybe take them to the park for an hour, it couldn’t be that bad, could it? that’s what you did.
kate bishop, the coworker who invited you, was very funny, it was clear that she was very nervous being by your side which you find cute and made you feel confident, but you just couldn’t enjoy the moment more than a little bit, you couldn’t see her as someone who could really make you feel anything, at all.
after all the talk you got back home frustrated, texting wanda if everything was fine.
Tumblr media
[you]
hey, everything’s fine? 
on my way to home rn
[wanda]
yep, we’re at the park 🛝
i’m gonna take them for some pizza 🍕🍕🍕
idk when we’re coming back but i let u know 
😉
Tumblr media
you laugh at wanda’s need to use so many emojis in every text, but thanked her in your mind to let you have more time for yourself, so when you got home you made sure to make it worth, you took a nice, long and warm bath and served yourself some wine, enjoying the complete absence of sounds of little steps running on the ground and the constant screams of “mom!” followed by a complaining about a toy or about it’s brother. 
it was very relaxing and relieving but you thought about how it would be when they got back and started the chaos all over again.
fortunately, that didn’t happen, when wanda got back to your house the twins were dead asleep in the car, she only had time to call you before you open the door and see her carrying both of their unconscious little bodies to inside, each one of them resting their head in one of her shoulders. when she got close enough you helped her, taking carefully Tommy in your arms, making sure none of them would wake up, and guiding her to their room upstairs. when you and wanda done putting them in bed and cover them up with a spider man and a batman blanket, you made your way downstairs silently.
when you turned around to take a look at her, suddenly you felt something that you didn’t know exactly what was it. maybe it was the alcohol running in your system - it’s been so long since you’ve got drunk - maybe it was all the frustrations and thoughts you’ve had about her the entire day, maybe it was your fertility period or the fact you didn’t have any sex for the last three months. but wanda looked so, so hot.
with a slight blue jeans and a black shirt, her casual clothes didn’t have anything special as well as her face, with the makeup she always wears, but there was something really different, it was probably in your eyes.
not that this really mattered, because you didn’t even remember how it started, all you could really memorize is how her lips felt against yours and how her hands felt running all over your body, reminding you of the times you were still together.
reminds you of everything, your first time at the bathroom of her fraternity party, that was inexperienced, desperate and hungry, made you discover a few things about her and about yourself. the first time after your wedding, when she made sure to be the most intimate, romantic and loving night you’ve ever dreamed about before the honeymoon. the make ups after a fight, rough, careless, wild, it used to be the most common in the last months of the marriage.
somehow you felt it all over again when you kissed, not knowing exactly how it started, but just like the first time, you were desperate for more.
wanda’s hands reached the hem of your pajamas’ shirt, the silk was thrown over the floor exposing your breasts, the warm skin being such a sight for her eyes, and she wasted no time in closing her mouth around one of your nipples, with both arms wrapped tightly around your waist.
you could feel your pussy almost dripping, it’s been long since the last time you had anything, but now wanda was right there, and she could give you everything, her mouth on your breast felt good but you craved more.
“i want you, now.” you whispered, putting your hands on her cheeks and gently bringing her up for another kiss, in a desperate attempt to make her understand how much you needed her inside of you, but wanda never failed to that before and the cocky smirk she gave you definitely showed she was not about to let that be the first time.
soon, you were sat naked at the counter of your kitchen with her body between your legs, taking off her black shirt and taking just a second or two to admire her body, perfect just like you remembered, her perky breasts begging to be touched, but both of you were so eager. wanda looked like she didn’t had sex in a while as well as you, she was rock hard without much stimulation and when she put her jeans down along with her boxers, your mouth watered at the sight.
looked a little bit bigger than you remembered and made you feel scared for a moment, you knew that would hurt despite the time without it, but a small part of you wanted the pain.
“i missed you so much, y/n.” wanda said, a little breathless, catching your attention to her face again. her strong hands pulled your legs around her waist and her throbbing cock made contact with your center.
you both moans at the contact, so needy for each other, wanda takes one hand to her cock, jerking it off before positioning at your drenched opening, making sure to look at your face while sliding the head in.
the woman’s eyes lightened up when you opened your mouth and let out a quite loud moan, beating your lashes at her with doe eyes, begging her to fuck you without saying a single word, and that’s what she did.
putting a hand above your mouth to keep you quiet and the other holding your thigh to keep you in place, she started moving her hips, thrusting forward and making you let out moans that she would die to hear but this wasn’t the time. your nails sunk into her back at the painful feeling of being stretched out by her shaft, but still you enjoyed it.
“didn’t you missed it? being stretched out by me, hm?” her husky breathless voice in your ear sounded sinful and dirty and you immediately shaked your head as yes, letting out another moan that was muffled by her palm “you’re so tight, fuck, i forgot how tight you were.”
after her last inch entered you, which you take proud of being able to take without asking her to go slower, she takes her hand out of your mouth, immediately kissing your lips while your pussy adjusted her size, her tongue slipped inside your mouth, you tested like red wine and your hands find its way to flood her breasts, you felt her hard nipples against your palms and wanda had to break the kiss to let out a little moan at that, but soon her mouth were on yours again and her hips were moving.
the sensation of her cock going in and out of you was like heaven, her heavy breath against your lips while she tried to kiss you and swallow your moans was so, so intoxicating, she was all over you and you didn’t want this to end.
“you feel so good, you’re so good– fuck, wanda!” you did your best to whisper these words instead of screaming them at the top of your lungs, but at every thrust of her hips her cock reached deeper inside of you, stretching your insides in a delicious way.
“you missed being my little slut, didn’t you?” she said against your lips, her pupils so dilated to the point the green in her eyes almost disappeared. you agreed with your head, scared that if you tried to say something it would be too loud and wake the twins who still sleeps safe and sound in their room.
when her movements became messy and desperate, she brings one hand to your pussy, stimulating your clit in circles with two fingers and that’s how you knew she was close, you closed your eyes, feeling your own orgasm coming, the knot on your stomach getting tighter as wanda’s fingers became faster, as well as her cock inside you.
“cum for me.” she breathed out against your lips and you happily did.
your back arched and your eyes rolled in your head while your shaking legs pulled wanda even closer, if that was possible, the tight of your pussy around wanda’s cock while you came on her made her almost cum inside you, but she couldn’t and she knew, so she did her best to hold it until you finished.
when the last drop of your cum coated her cock she took it out of you, making you feel empty but the sight of her jerking off and cumming all over your belly while calling your name was enough to please you for now.
both of you panted heavily, unable to speak for two or three minutes, wanda rested her head on your neck, while you caressed her hair slightly and for a moment it didn’t felt like a mistake, it felt like pure love again.
wanda grabbed a napkin across the counter to clean your belly and took you to the couch, sitting comfortably by your side and then was your turn to rest your head on her shoulder. your breaths were still heavy and your legs weak, your sweaty bodies fitted each other perfectly.
“we have to put our clothes on.” wanda said after a while, and you agreed, but none of you moved.
the situation would probably be awkward for a lot of couples, but wasn’t for the two of you, maybe it was the intimacy you get after 8 years of marriage but it sounded just like casual conversation, except that there’s no clothes and no inhibitions between you.
“we’ll never do this again, this was an only time thing.” you said calmly, looking up at her.
“yeah, an only time thing.” she agreed, but if you wasn’t so tired to read her eyes you would know that deep inside she wanted nothing more to be with you again.
755 notes · View notes
luvv4j4ybe11 · 4 months
Text
Tumblr media
✧Summary~Your bestfriends let your curiosity get the better of you.
✧Warnings~ A/B/O elements(retractable penis, knots, and bioluminescence cum(is that an a/b/o element?)), oral (m receiving), threesome(mfm), dirty talk, human reader, size difference, and I think that’s it. Lmk if I missed anything, enjoy love<33
✧Translations- Yawntutsip~darling, little loved one,
Tumblr media
“You what?” Lo’ak asked with his brow raised, both brothers stopping in their tracks.
“I wanna see what you guys look like under your loincloths, I’ve heard other scientists talk about Navi anatomy but I wanna see one for myself.” You state plainly, both of them staring down at you with their brows raised and jaws slightly dropped.
Neteyam is the first to break the silence, walking over to you and crouching down at your level. “Babygirl..are you sure?” He asks gently while placing his hand on your shoulder, his fingers almost touching the middle of your back.
You nod your head quickly, sending him a reassuring smile when you do. “Yes teyam I’ll be fine. I can handle it, I promise.” Both of them smile devilishly at this, their gaze on you turning lustful. “Nah mama, I don’t think you can” Lo’ak says gravely, making Neteyam chuckle softly.
“Can’t promise you’re gonna be able to even walk out of here once we’re done with you.” He adds on, standing up to his full height to take off his loincloth slowly. Lo’ak walking next to him to do the same.
Your stomach was filled with butterflies as they were standing in-front of you, watching the last knot on their loincloths come undone before they fall down to the ground in sync.
You stare at them confused for a second, looking back in front of you to what seemed to be a very well lubricated slit of some sorts, which you assumed is where their cocks were.
You’ve heard the other scientists mention this thing called a knot that’s on the base of male Navi’s shafts that swells the closer the he is to his climax so when he pushes it into his desired mate, she’s sure to get pregnant. But they never talked about how their cocks were when “at rest” essentially.
They both look at you with the same smirk plastered on their faces, tails swaying excitedly behind them. “Can I touch?” You ask innocently, looking up at them with curiosity in your eyes.
Lo’ak bites his lip at your expression, while neteyam places his hand on your head. Rubbing his thumb back and forth on your skull softly. “Mhm, that’s why we’re doing this in the first place right, babygirl?” He questions lowly while tilting his head to the side, braids falling in-front of his face.
You nod to acknowledge his question before reaching out to the both of them tentatively, tracing the outside of their slits with your fingertips. Making both of them flinch and buck up into your hands softly at the soft touch.
After a few more minutes you see something coming out from inside both of their slits. And immediately after that, their dicks come out in front of you. Both of them basically the size and length of your forearm, if not a little bigger.
The thought of those going inside of you makes you nervous, but the ache in your core says otherwise. Making you rub your thighs together tightly.
You still keep your hands on the base of their dicks, not fully touching them but still too busy admiring them. Lo’ak has this knot at the base of his shaft just like neteyam, both of them slightly flat but swelling the more aroused they got.
Lo’ak looked more like a human than anything, but was just blue and fucking enormous in length and girth. Neteyam on the other hand had these ridges on the sides, which looked more like the diagrams of Navi anatomy you’ve seen before.
You look up at them with doe eyes, shuffling uncomfortably before wondering what to do. They both laugh at you hesitation,“You can touch mama” lo’ak says softly, rubbing your head affectionately.
You grab both of them firmly, the slick from where they were before aiding you in stroking them fluidly. They both groan at the feeling of your soft hands wrapped around them, both of them reaching down to touch you to reassure you.
They were both twitching and leaking all into your hands, the pre that came from their tips almost looking shimmery and shiny. As if it was glowing. You swallow thickly at this, scooting closer to them to observe them more.
“You wanna taste, yawntutsip?” Neteyam says thickly,his baritone knocking you out of your trance. “Mhm” you mummer quietly before taking his tip into your mouth, whining softly at the stretch it gave you. He tasted so…sweet.
You lick and suck at his tip hungrily, addicted to the taste of him. He groans at the feeling of your mouth on hip, watching how you struggle to get just his tip into your mouth.“Fuck babygirl, that good?” He chuckles breathily before tightening his grip on your hair. Trying to resist the urge to fuck your face and use you until he’s done.
Lo’ak groans needily at the sight in front of him, closing his hand around yours to fuck into your fist the way he wanted. You take a couple more licks of neteyam before switching to lo’ak, wrapping your hand around neteyam instead.
“I didn’t forget about you baby, don’t worry.” you tease before taking his tip into your mouth, letting the taste of him just dissolve on your tongue.
He hisses at the feeling of your tongue on his sensitive tip, instinctively bucking his hips into your mouth. “Fuck mama..” he groans lowly before throwing his head back when you roll your tounge in circles around him.
He places both hands on your head before fucking your mouth softly, making you whine around him and your eyes water. While neteyam was thrusting into your fist tenderly, not wanting to harm you at all.
You tighten your hold on neteyam and suck lo’ak harder, silently telling them to use you. They both pick up on this quickly, giving you exactly what you wanted.
Your the tears finally spill over your eyes as lo’ak uses your throat, causing little whines and gags to come from you. “You look so fuckin’ pretty like this mama,” Lo’ak growls lowly as your throat squeezes him every time you gag. “Such an eager little slut for us, so perfect.” Neteyam coos at you deeply as he fucks your fist roughly. Making you moan around Lo’ak desperately.
The nosies coming from the three of you made you squeeze your thighs together tightly, being used by these two gorgeous men and their dirty words making your pussy throb.
You rub your thumb up and down neteyams tip as your moan around lo’ak again, the vibration making him moan softly.
“Must want us to cum all over that pretty face huh mama?” Lo’ak teases, cocking his head to the side as if he was waiting for you to answer. Neteyam hums in agreement, hips stuttering slightly as his orgasm approaches. “Come one yawntutsip, be a good girl for us and let us make a mess on your face. We promise we’ll make your feel good after…”
Tumblr media
A/N~ ‼️PLEASE READ‼️first thing I wanna say is that I’m kinda upset I had to change the character I had originally(neytiri) bc it’s was js too difficult to write her for this prompt, so that’s why I did lo’ n teyam. I did use Luna (@pandoraslxna) and blues (@blue-slxt) fics as a reference but I DID NOT copy them! So don’t even try to say that I did. That’s the last thing I want to happen so that why I’m addressing it rn, bc id never wanna copy my bbys like that☹️ i tried to fix some of the words so it wasn’t too similar but people will still have an opinion about this so 🤷🏽‍♀️. I can only do so much until it’s out of my control. But thank you guys for reading this. Day 10 will be otw later today. Stay safe and hydrated bbys🩷
Duces🫶🏽,
Luvv4j4ybe11
~
~
~
Taglist: @pandoraslxna @neteyamswillow @neteyamsyawntu @zafrinaxyz @hotdsworld @plooto @alexxie @erenjeagerwifee @inlovewithpandora @somedays-i-just-feel-bad-bitch @marcelruizboba @km-ffluv @urlocalgayblueberry @koalalafications @rihnnx @neteyamspare @mewowsa @tallulah477 @skywonder
Tumblr media
578 notes · View notes